Listen to "While my guitar gently weeps" by the Beatles for effect.
Six months he'd been trying to find a way to get back to the year 1827 but everything failed. It was useless. Arthur had tried everything from using magical incantations, to upgrading the machine to house a small nuclear reactor but it was futile. The thing worked when it was only steam powered, and he thought that atomic power would do it, but still nothing. It was a dead parrot of a machine, except for the strange music it kept emitting now and again. Night after night he toiled, sweated, and came up with theory after theory, all without success. His new assistant, Feliciano Vargas, a young Italian sent there by the agency, wasn't much help. He would take the notes and get them wrong or sit there doing nothing all day, or doing stupid things.
"You are never gong to be able to get Francis back from 1828." he said as he handed Arthur a spanner. Arthur was fixing something under the machine, as once again it had broken down.
"I have to try!" He replied "I can't leave him stranded there all alone. Anything could happen to him. He could be hurt or even killed…" Arthur continued as he fixed the machine. "And all because of this stupid thing. I wish I'd never created it, then Francis would still be here.
"But how do you even know where he is?" Feliciano answered. "If its true what you say about your machine, could he not have ended up anywhere?"
"He could have. But let me show you something." He said and led his new assistant up to the attic where he showed him the photograph album, and the picture of his Great Grandfather Hindley standing next to Francis. The sepia toned photograph having mysteriously reappeared back in its place.
"That is my Great Grandfather Arthur Hindley Kirkland, and next to him is Francis, can you see? That's how I know where in time he is, because of this picture. The strange thing is, it vanished for a while and then I looked back in the album and lo and behold it had returned… so it must be right, he must have had the picture taken and it was replaced in the album.
"Your Great Grandfather looks a lot like you Arturo…" Feliciano said as he admired the photograph. "He has your hair, your stature, your eyebrows…" He laughed. "I would have thought he was you…"
"Alright yes… Francis said the same thing… I don't see it myself." Arthur replied.
"And look how close he and Francis stand, look are they holding hands as well?"
Arthur snatched the photo out of the photo album. He hadn't noticed this before, but Feliciano was right. They were in fact holding hands, although the photo was so faded it was hard to see that. This worried Arthur a little, but he tried to dismiss his thoughts on that, as Francis would never do a thing like that, not when he knew Arthur would come and get him.
Feliciano was looking at some other photographs and pictures in the attic. On the wall was a large oil painting of another of Arthurs ancestors, a man in a dark suit with a ruffled collar and long black cloak. Next to him was someone lying on a bed in a very erotic way, half undressed, and hard to tell if it was a male or a female. Once again the man in the painting was the double of Arthur, even down to the eyebrows and the hairstyle.
"Who is this?" Asked Feliciano, over awed by the painting.
"That is my fifteen times great Grandfather Arthur William Kirkland… who lived in this mansion in the 1500s a very long time ago. The person painted with him was rumoured to be some sort of concubine, but nobody knows who she was."
"Could be a boy there…" Feliciano laughed.
"Well… either way it's a mystery… one that may never be solved." Arthur replied.
"Wow..." Feliciano said as he admired the painting. "What a time to be alive…"
"Indeed." Arthur replied "So you see, this is how I know where Francis went. Feliciano, are you listening?"
"Si… I was… I just think you have so much history in your home Arturo."
"Yes … well… lets get on with the experiments." Arthur said and they went back down to try some other things with the machine.
Arthur handed Feliciano a flowering plant. "Take this into the machine and leave it on the floor… I am going to try to transport it back in time and retrieve it using my new algorithm."
Feliciano wasn't listening. "What?" He asked dreamily. "Take this in there?"
"Yes, take the plant in there…"
Arthur started up the machine and looked over at the plant Feliciano had left on the floor, whilst he went into the machine.
"No, you're supposed to put the plant in there… not yourself!" Yelled Arthur as the machine chamber closed on Feliciano.
"Arturo!" he cried "Your machine is locked, I can't get ouuuut!" he screamed, hammering at the door and trying to open it.
"Feli!" Yelled Arthur, trying everything he could to open the door, but it wouldn't open. As he stood there, the machine let out its flash of blue light and weird music, and he saw a huge swirling mass appear behind Feliciano.
"Oh no… no ….not you too!" he exclaimed listening to Feliciano's distorted screams.
Soon the machine powered down and the door opened, and Feliciano was gone. It just seemed so obvious, could it really be true? Had Feliciano ended up back in the 1500s with Arthur William Kirkland?
"You have got to be kidding me…" uttered Arthur, realising who the concubine in the painting could have been.
In 1592 Arthur William stood on a dark stage in front of a few spectators, holding up a skull and reciting a play.
"To be or not to be… that is the question… whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take up arms against a sea of trouble and by opposing… end them…" he uttered dramatically. As he did this, someone stumbled on to the stage, it was Feliciano, looking lost and bewildered. He took one look at the small audience, and Arthur William on the stage, screamed and ran off.
"I say!" uttered Arthur William. "Stop that man!" He cried and bounded off the stage after him.
Meanwhile back in 1946 Arthur gazed in wonder at the machine. First it sent Francis back to 1827 and then Feliciano back to 1592 but would it work for him? No… it was being temperamental. Just like a time machine… with a bad temperament.
"Gerrr!" Roared Arthur at the machine. But it was a machine and had no personality, or did it? Thinking about what happened, Arthur began to pace the floor. Francis sees picture of Hindley, is transported to Hindley's time… Feliciano sees picture of William… is transported to William's time.. hmm.. I get it…" he grumbled. "They go to whatever their mind has fixated on.. whatever time that…" He stopped realising he had a photograph of Francis in his pocket that he kept there just to look at and weep over occasionally. He took it out and looked at him again. "It's whoever they were fixated on when they went into the machine isn't it Francis? If I am fixated on you, the machine will find you and send me there…. But… but then how would I get back?" He grumbled. "I'd have to take a machine with me… and then Arthur had an idea. A big smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up. "EUREKA!" he cried out.
Meanwhile in 1827 Arthur Hindley had introduced Francis to his son Arthur and the boy seemed to have accepted him as his father's friend. Somehow it was as though Hindley was easing him into the family, hoping that young Arthur would get used to having him around and doing things here and there. Francis got to work teaching the boy French twice a week, so that the servants would believe that's what he was there for, and then no awkward questions would be asked. He occupied the end room upstairs and had his own space but mostly he spent his time with the master, who would take him out riding and other activities.
Young Arthur was doing well in his studies, and as he finished, one fine afternoon, Hindley entered the little study.
"I hear Arthur is doing very well Monsieur Bonnefoy." He said as he looked to Francis and then his son who smiled back innocently. "What can you say in French now Arthur?" He asked the boy who looked very proud of himself.
"Hello Father." He replied politely. "I can say many things now." He said. "Bonjour, ca va? Ca va merci, et toi?"
Hindley chuckled as he spoke "That's very good Arthur…" he said.
"Je t'aime mon Pere…" He said proudly, happy that he could speak French.
"My word… you have taught him well Monsieur Bonnefoy…" He said. "I think we can let young Arthur have the afternoon off don't you?"
"Oui Monsieur Kirkland. He has done so well today. He may have this afternoon off."
"Aw brilliant, I'm going to play outside…yaaay…" he cried and ran out of the room. When the boy was out of sight, Hindley turned to Francis and moved closer to him, so close that Francis could feel the heat of his breath on his lips, and his arm sliding around his waist.
"I think my son likes you…don't you?" he uttered with a small smile on his lips.
"He…is a very clever boy. Just like his father..." Francis replied as he looked into Hindley's deep green eyes.
"I want you to be… like a second father to him." He uttered. "Would that be a problem Francis?"
"I would be honoured…" He replied.
Hindley gently kissed his lips and hugged him. "It's almost like…a family isn't it?"
"Very much so." Francis replied allowing himself to be held and loved by Hindley. In the few months he'd been in this time, despite the fact that Hindley could get rough when he made love to Francis, everything else seemed idyllic and perfect.
"You were playing your guitar beautifully last night Mon cher… I heard you.. it was inspiring…" Francis said. "You are so talented…"
"That song I wrote for you." He chuckled. "Come outside to the summerhouse, I'll play it for you."
"Oh.." uttered Francis, who was flattered by this. "But of course…" He replied and they went outside to the little summerhouse, that was by this time, covered in green climbing Ivy and roses, and looked so romantic in the afternoon sunshine. Hindley took with him his beautiful redwood guitar and when he was sure that they were alone, he started to play the song he dedicated to Francis.
"I look at our love, and I feel my heart beating, while my music cries for you…
And I watch you there when I know you are sleeping, while my music sighs for you…oo
And the night touches your soul, a heart of gold, I will invite my love
As our bodies entwine, I will make you be mine, I will excite my love…"
Francis sat mesmerised, listening to the gentle stepping notes of the guitar, and Hindley singing like an angel. This was wonderful, and it made him feel special. They stayed there all afternoon and into the evening. It was lovely and warm, and they were alone.
"You know what would be nice…" Hindley mumbled as he kissed Francis and nibbled on his earlobe. "Wine." He uttered. "You wait here and I will get the wine…" He said. "Don't go anywhere my love…"
"I do not intend to Mon amour…" Francis replied and sat down on the ledge. The summerhouse was lit up by a few small candles and it felt so nice to be there. The last thing that he was expecting was to hear a familiar voice whisper to him from outside.
"Francis… Francis…" came the voice. He recognised it… this wasn't Hindley… it was Arthur. In some sort of alarm and fear and whatever else, Francis exited the summerhouse and there standing a few feet away wearing a backpack, with all manner of cranks and cogs on it, was Arthur.
"Arthur?" Gasped Francis. He didn't know whether to run to him or stay where he was or what.
"It worked!" He said excitedly. "I made a smaller version of the machine and brought it with me… I've come to get you, to bring you home!"