Chapter Six:
"There's just something about you I know, started centuries ago."
I had arrived early. Largely because my last lecture was cancelled and because Charlotte had her boyfriend visiting, so they had occupied the flat until he got his train home later tonight. So here I was, singing along to my iPod – though I really shouldn't – I'm in the library and I keep forgetting their silence policy. But I can't help it! Music is too infectious, I can't help but sing. The time is nearly three o clock.
More research on Google suggested that 'dreams often held vital information like: dates, people, times and certain events.' So, with this in mind, I decided to scour the newspaper section. The library had a catalogue of newspapers that stretched back to the early 1800's. It was interesting to flick through some and see articles on 'Jack the Ripper' and the Second World War. I nearly got side-tracked reading an article on the Ripper's second victim, Annie Chapman, but then I was snapped back in to reality and carried on searching.
The dreams seemed rather dated –the majority of the dead people were wearing old-fashioned clothes, and from my recollections, they looked Victorian. Top hats, monocles, smoking pipes, tailor made trousers and coats. It all seemed to fit. I felt I was about to come across some vital evidence that would unravel these secrets and mysteries.
That's why I chose the newspapers. Secrets on paper. Every newspaper published from New Year 1800 was sorted in a giant, black leather bound folder, separated by plastic wallets and categorised chronologically.
I decided to start when the Victorian era began. 20th June, 1837. The day Queen Victoria was placed on the throne. I had more than 60 years of history, and I had to go through every day of it! Ugh! OK then, the Summer of 1837…nothing.
Winter 1852? Nothing!
New Year's 1867. Still nothing. What was I even looking for? Articles on the living dead? A dead bride with a living man? The after-life on Earth? Yikes!
I checked the time – 16:20. Blimey, that had gone quickly. Victor will be here soon, and I'd love to greet him with some new information. Something to set our minds at rest. But this was like searching for a needle in a haystack…as big as London…when the needle was microscopic!
But then…I found it! My luck was finally here! But this delight was more for Victor, not me. Regardless, with a giant smile on my face, I grabbed my notebook and took down the details of the newspaper – title, date, page number and who wrote the article. Then Victor showed up. I saw him coming. The newspaper section in the library looks out on to the main staircase and I saw him walking up, looking for me. He caught sight of me, and with my free hand, I waved at him, the other hand steadying myself on the table. Using my notebook as a bookmark, I shut the newspaper catalogue on top of it and greeted Victor with a smile.
"Thought I'd find you here" he whispered, dropping his bag by the table. "Garibaldi."
"What about him?" I asked.
"No, biscuits. Garibaldi biscuits, hope you like them. And, tea." He smiled, pulling out the giant familiar flask from yesterday and a brand new packet of biscuits.
"Oh, I see. Good choice. You alright?"
"I am, yes…and judging by your smile…I guess I don't need to ask you the same question…have you found something?" he asked, his eyes lighting up, like a dog being presented with the biggest tennis ball it'd ever seen.
"Depends what 'something' is." I teased. "I did find something, a little trace of history…but I don't know what you'll make of it."
"…How bad is it?" he asked, assuming it was tragic news.
"Not bad at all. I'm just awaiting your response" I said. I folded my arms and nodded my head towards the giant black folder of newspapers in front of me.
"My response?"
"Victor, how good are you with history?"
"I only know what I learned at school. Henry the Eighth and his six wives, the Gunpowder Plot, the Plague, Jack the Ripper, Titanic and the two world wars. Why?" he shrugged.
"Do you know what happened in 1875?"
"Nope" he shook his head. "Anything important…for us? Is it something to do with our dreams?"
After hearing his answer, I placed my hand on the newspaper folder.
"1875. Ice hockey is played for the first time indoors in Canada. The SS Gothenburg sinks off the coast of Australia. A man called Matthew swims the English Channel for the first time…" then I opened the folder to where my notebook sat, removed it, and turned the folder so Victor could see what I had found. Using my index finger, I pointed at a black and white photo.
"It was also the year that the Van Dort's – a family fishing business in London – engaged their only son to the Everglot's daughter, their local neighbours. This is their engagement announcement. Recognise the bride and groom?"
Victor was silent. Still as a statue. He just stared at the paper in front of him. Moments later, he bent down to take a closer look.
"That can't be right…"
"It must be. How much of your family history do you know?"
"Evidently, not enough…you cannot show this to Victoria!" he blurted out.
"She doesn't even know we're doing this research, where would I even begin in telling her?" I responded, reaching for the packet of biscuits.
"Touché" he whispered back. "This is too weird" he shook his head.
"All of this is weird. Do you think it's linked?" I asked.
"No idea…if this…if this is historically accurate…Victoria and I could be related!"
"I think you're over-stepping the mark, Victor."
"Over-stepping the mark?" he cried out. "I'm looking at my engagement announcement to my girlfriend…in 1875! I married Victoria in a previous life."
"On the bright side…it could be a lead" I shrugged.
"Some lead" he scoffed. "I can't believe it…this seems too…barbaric" he finally looked up at me, tearing his eyes away from the article.
"At least you've got a lead. I still have nothing. Didn't find anything to do with me in any of these newspapers. Not yet anyway."
"Maybe we can focus on that now. I can't look at that photo."
I couldn't blame him. He was looking at a black and white photo of himself AND Victoria, dressed in old-fashioned Victorian clothes, with the title 'Van Dort son to marry' clearly printed in bold black letters. Victoria looked exactly the same as she did in today's world, except today you could see more flesh. In the newspaper photo, every inch of her was covered in clothing, except her hands and face. Well, that was tradition back in those days, wasn't it? And Victor was dressed in a well-tailored suit, complete with tie, waistcoat and combed hair – the complete opposite of what I saw in front of me now.
"Do you think it has any connection? Have you seen Victoria in one of your dreams?" I asked.
"No. The dreams began with me walking through some woods, in the middle of winter…what date is that article?"
"29th November 1875" I responded instantly.
"End of November? There was snow in the woods, wasn't there? Winter time, end of the year…around November and December time, perhaps?" he suggested.
Ping! Another connection!
"You're right. When I chased you, that little lake was frozen over. And there was snow on the tree branches as well. OK, so our dreams are at winter time" I silently rejoiced. "So…how does this help me out?"
"Do you think you were killed in winter?" Victor suggested.
"No. I was too decayed to be freshly buried. I was missing flesh on the entire of my left arm and right leg. And my ribs were exposed. I'd been dead for a while."
"Are there any articles on missing people, from the 1800's?"
"I haven't checked that yet. It took me an hour and a half just to find that article" I sighed, pointing at the folder.
"OK" Victor nodded, slowly taking off his jacket. "You pour the tea and I'll get started on the missing peoples list."
"And what else will I do? Just sit here, sipping tea? I need to do something" I urged.
"OK. Maybe find out more about the Van Dort family from 1875?" he suggested.
"Good idea. Biscuit?"
Two hours later:
"What time does the library shut, Emily?" Victor asked, leaning over from his computer seat.
"Eight o clock" I answered. Prompted by his question, I looked at the time, astonished to see it was half past six. "Any joy?"
"Some. I've found the missing persons list from 1870 to 1880, but the details are rather minor. No suggestion on where they lived, where they disappeared. Just their name and birth date. You?"
"Nothing much…hang on a minute! I tell a lie, listen to this. The Van Dort's were a famous fishing business. They opened their first shop in 1856 close to the coast of Dover, but as business grew and prospered, they opened several other shops around the country. One was located in a little village just outside of London. The village is gone now, it was replaced with a supermarket in 1963. However, the local forest is still standing." And then it hit me.
"Oh my god. The petition to knock down the forest was unsuccessful when it revealed a graveyard…that would be 300 years old now." It was like Victor hadn't heard me properly.
"Victor?" I asked. "Did you hear what I just said? Victor?"
"Sorry…I…I think…"
"What?"
"I think I've found you. Well…the Victorian you" he mumbled.
"Show me" I demanded, leaning over to see the computer screen. Victor leaned back in his chair to show me his discovery. I started reading aloud.
"'The search still continues for 20 year old Emily Hunter, who disappeared from her family mansion on the 15th July. Miss Hunter was last seen by her parents, Lord and Lady Hunter, the evening of the 14th July upon her retirement to bed. On the morning of the 15th, Miss Hunter's maid discovered her chambers empty, the bed slept in, her clothes and possessions missing. In addition to Miss Hunter's possessions, Lady Hunter discovered her bridal gown to be missing from her wardrobe. Lord and Lady Hunter are urging anyone with any information on the nature of their daughter, to come forward to local authorities in the hope for the safe return of their daughter.' Oh my god" I sighed.
"This was in 1873. Wait for it though" Victor added. He clicked a few buttons on the mouse, which opened a single photo of a young Victorian girl, with long wavy locks of dark hair, slim neck and flawless features, wearing pearls and a light coloured dress. It was black and white so it was hard to tell the colour of her clothes. But that didn't matter.
"Almost identical, right?" Victor said.
"Almost" I whispered, barely audible.
I was looking at the ghost of my past. It was scary to admit, but we were very much identical. The girl in the picture – Miss Emily Hunter – was me.
That night:
It seemed logical. To have a nightmare the same day that Victor and I have a 'dream breakthrough', if that's what you'd call it. OK, so where am I now?
I'm sitting on a bench, with Victor to my right, the view of the Land of the Dead stretched out before us. We were on a hill, of some sort, sitting on a rotten wooden bench and there was a box in Victor's hands. A faded, decomposed box with a discoloured red ribbon tied to the top. Victor was shaking it, ever so lightly and I could hear the rumble of something light in there. He set it down on his lap and took the lid off. We both nearly screamed in response, but Victor was more set back than me. I'd seen a dead body before. Well, I say dead body; it was a rotten half-decomposed corpse of a fox that had died in my school ground. So I wasn't too shocked to see a pile of bones and a skull sitting there in the box…with a red strip of fabric.
Victor merely picked up a single bone and looked at me through squinted eyes.
"Thank you" he smiled, obviously creeped out by this ordeal. But then the box started shaking. Almost like there was an earthquake going on inside. The bones shook, Victor placed the lid back on top – why? It was no use. The box tipped over from his lap and the bones spilled out on to the floor. They then shook – again – and assembled themselves, like a magic jigsaw puzzle.
It was a dog! Oh my god, it was a dog! And the strip of red fabric was its collar. Victor was delighted, I could see it in his face as he held the red collar in his hands.
"Scraps!" he cried. "My dog Scraps!"
FIZZ! BANG! Back to reality! 4:25am, and the dream was gone. Quick as that.
I had left my phone on, just in case. I was right to do so. Victor texted me two minutes after I woke up.
"You gave me a present" he said.
"Did you ever have a dog called Scraps?" I texted back. Five minutes passed, no response. But then…
"Yes. He was hit by a car when I was 12. And he had a red collar."
The tables had turned. Only ten hours ago we had made a ground-breaking discovery on our dreams…but now things were getting spooky. And it was freaking me out!
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Thanks! Corpsegirl93 :D