Only in America: Skinner's Story

A TPDoEQ special edition

by Lady Norbert

6 April 1900

Well, up until today, this has been fun.

We went to the White House, where the American President lives. Took the guided tour; I spent most of it keeping an eye on the tour guide. He kept cosying up to Bess. She didn't seem to mind too much, so maybe I should've left it be, but I couldn't, somehow.

After the tour ended, we had a bit of a chat among the League about going back to the sub for lunch, and I excused myself to the water closet. Came back just in time for all kinds of trouble - somebody made off with some of the gilt silverware from the State Dining Room. They noticed it was missing right after we were in there, so we all got jostled into a room to be questioned. We all stood there looking at each other, and then one of the guards threw down something he said was found "at the scene of the crime."

I recognized it right away. It was mine - one of the handkerchiefs Bess gave me for Christmas, with my monogram. I put my hand in my pocket, and sure enough, it was gone. She and I looked at each other; she was pale as death.

"That's mine," I said quietly.

I saw the other League members exchanging looks, like they'd been afraid this would happen. Bess was frozen, I think she was in shock.

"I'm afraid you'll have to come with us, sir," someone said. I found myself being shuffled out the door.

"I didn't do it," I said. From the doorway I looked back at her one more time; she was staring at me. "I swear it!"

They took me "downtown," to the jail on East Street. Tom came along, which helped a little; it's never a bad thing to have a government agent on your side. At least they treated me decent. They searched me, but I didn't have anything on me - how could I, when I didn't do it? I'm a thief, but I'm not stupid. Even if I'd wanted to nick something from the White House, I wouldn't have done it with everyone watching.

Hell, I wouldn't have done it, period.

The long and short of the matter was that I ended up in a little corner cell, with a bench to sleep on and not much else. Tom couldn't stay; he had to get back to the ship and tell the others what was going on. Maybe he believed I was guilty; I couldn't say.

"You'll be all right," he told me before he left.

"Do me a favour, Tom," I said. "Look after Bess. You know how she gets into trouble without even trying." He nodded - he does know that, after all - and with a shake of my hand, he was gone.

I took off my coat and folded it up to make a pillow, then lay down on the cot and tried to sleep. It was going to be a long day, and a long night.

7 April 1900

She shouldn't have done that.

I was sitting in the cell, trying not to think about what was going to happen to me. How was I going to prove I didn't do anything?

"You've got a visitor, Brit," I heard the guard say. Brit - well, I was the only English prisoner. I looked up, and I could barely believe what I was seeing; he was opening the cell door, and Bess was stepping inside. Half an hour, he said we had.

"What on earth are you doing here?" I asked her. Not that I was complaining, mind. Right about then, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"I wanted to see if you were all right," she said. She sounded a little funny, almost nervous. We sat down, and she passed me a basket. "I brought you a few things."

"You shouldn't have come. Not that I'm not glad to see you - been miserable in here, if you want to know the truth." I was glad to see her, but I didn't really want her to see me. Not like that, not there.

"I just thought somebody ought to look in on you." She's a right stubborn little thing, honestly.

I asked how the others were taking it. I knew they probably believed I was guilty, but she shook her head. "I think they don't know what to think. We were all a little shocked...give them time, they'll come around."

"You believe me, don't you?"

"Yes." She was so calm about it, didn't hesitate for a second.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but...why?"

"Well, it's not hard to have faith in someone who's never let you down." Bess is the only person in the world who would say such a thing about me. She reached out to touch my hand; I took hers and didn't let go. I had to hold onto her - right then, she was all I had. And all I needed.

"We are going to get you out of here," she told me. "I promise."

Much too soon, the half-hour was over. We stood up, and I really didn't know what to say to her. I couldn't figure out how to tell her what it meant that she'd come, that she believed. Hard as it was, I told her not to come back; I didn't want her in that dark place. I much preferred to think of her outside, free, standing in the light.

The moment for goodbye came, and I couldn't say it. Instead, I kissed her hand, trying to tell her everything without saying anything. The guard escorted her out, and the light which had filled my cell faded from view.

He came back, looking mildly amused. "She's a pretty thing," he said.

"Yeah. She is." I didn't feel like talking, but he didn't give me an option.

"Who is she? Your sister?"

"No."

"Not your wife?"

Thanks for pointing that out. "No."

"Who is she, then?"

"Bess."

He looked a bit irritated, which I liked. "I mean, what is she to you?"

I didn't answer right away, but when I did, I couldn't believe what came out of my mouth.

"Everything."

Later, I decided to look through the basket she'd brought, see what was in there. I didn't exactly have anything better to do. She'd packed in a few oranges, books, paper, and - sweet, sensible Bess - my jar of face paint. Now I could wash without worrying about giving away my secret.

Oh, funny girl. One of the books was A Tale of Two Cities, the one I'd "fallen asleep" while reading. Suppose that's her idea of a joke; well, it did make me grin a bit.

Hell. I'll read it.

8 April 1900

Gonna go mad in here.

If I somehow don't, though, Bess gets the credit. I'm not a fast reader, so working my way through the French revolution is killing time. I do sort of relate to that Carton fellow, like she said.

Sawyer came to see me last night, which was good of him. The guard gave us half an hour, same as he gave Bess. "I offered to bring Elizabeth with me," he said, "but she said you made her promise not to come back."

"Yeah, I did. Bad enough I'm in here - I don't want her in this place."

"Well, we're working on getting you out."

"Thanks."

There wasn't much to say, really. "Everyone all right?" I asked.

"Pretty much." He knew what I was really asking. "She misses you."

He's a good egg, Tom.

9 April 1900

Finished the book this morning. Definitely feel for that Carton chap. I guess when he told that Miss Lucie that there's nothing he wouldn't have done to protect her or the people she loved, he meant it - he let them cut off his head to save her husband. I admit there's not much I wouldn't do for Bess, but her husband? If she married Sawyer, maybe.

Tom showed up in the late afternoon. I thought it was just a regular visit, until he pointed out that my cell door was left open. I dunno how he did it, but he got the real thief, confession and all. He'd come to take me back to the ship.

I pulled myself together fast as I could and got the hell out of there. The sun was warm and everything just looked really, really good. We climbed into a hansom cab and headed for the river, him telling me that everyone had pitched in to help get me out, even though they'd had their doubts initially.

"She didn't, though." I knew who he meant.

"I know. Hell if I know why."

He said she was mad at everyone else for not believing, and I had to laugh. I can't picture Bess mad at anybody. Then he said she'd threatened to go hunting for the real thief by herself, if he didn't help her; that I can imagine.

"So that's why you did it."

"Well, yes and no," he said. Eventually, he said, he'd realised that I couldn't have been the thief. "Because if you really had done it, it would have really hurt Elizabeth. And I know you'd never do anything that would hurt her that much."

Have I mentioned that Sawyer is a little too smart for his own good?

He figured everyone would be in the main stateroom, and he was right - it was teatime. "I'm back!" I said, holding out my arms. "Didja miss me?"

It's funny, but I almost think they did, they were smiling so much. Nemo came and shook my hand directly, saying "Welcome back." Jekyll did the same, and said, "It's good to have you back, you old scoundrel."

"You know you love me, Jeks."

Then Mina gave me her hand, and I made a production out of kissing it and asking how she managed to live without me; I'm not even sure what she said, but she seemed amused. Bess was standing beside her, and when I'd finished teasing Mina, she offered her hand as well.

We just stood there for a minute. "Kept yourself out of trouble, Bessie?" I didn't know what to say to her.

"Of course." After that, Tom and I were given our tea, and he told them all about the confession of the real thief. They really did seem like they were glad to have me back; we spent most of the rest of the day just goofing off in the stateroom.

11 April 1900

Bess said last night that she was getting up early today to go to church. Nobody else seemed interested, so she probably thought she'd have to go alone, and I know she doesn't like to do that. She looked plenty surprised when she came out of her room and saw me waiting for her, but she seemed happy when I said I'd take her.

Afterwards, it was such a nice day we decided to walk back. I have to say it felt good, walking along the river - free to breathe the air. Having a certain girl on my arm didn't hurt either. I talked to her, a bit, about how it felt in jail, and she listened, and nodded. I didn't tell her much, but I think she understood. We sat by the river and watched some geese swim; at least, she watched the geese.

The wind picked up, and we were showered in cherry blossoms from the trees behind us. She put one in my buttonhole, and I accused her of trying to turn me into a dandy, which amused her. We fell silent.

"Don't think I thanked you for coming to see me," I said after awhile.

"I was worried about you."

"Thought I'd go mad in there, honestly." I told her I'd missed the sky more than anything; that was almost true. The sky definitely placed second.

Eventually I thought we ought to head back. "The others'll wonder where we are, probably accuse us of eloping," I told her. Then - I don't know quite what possessed me to do it - I asked, "Want to?"

Startled her, that did. I was actually half-serious, but all she said was "What?" so I told her I was just teasing. I thought...well, to be honest, I don't know what I thought. Just that maybe I'd get an idea from her about, well, what she'd think of such a thing. From the look on her face, she just seemed surprised.

As we left, though, she took my arm again and told me she was glad I was back.

"So am I, love." And I meant every word.