Dramatis Personae in 1887
Cora Levinson – An 18-year-old American teenager. Heiress of her father's fortune.
Isidore Levinson – Cora's father. A wealthy dry-goods store owner and merchant in Cincinnati, Ohio
Martha Levinson – Cora's mother; headstrong and independent, for the day
Janine Bauer – Cora's mother's maid. She is middle-aged and is a widow, after an abusive marriage.
Matilda (Mattie) Baker – Cora's aunt and the sister of her mother.
Frank Baker – Matilda's husband Frank is a wheat exporter, most of which is shipped to England.
Amelia Matilda (Tillie) Baker – Cora's cousin, same age as her. A rather silly and stupid girl.
George Ackerman – 28-year-old secretary to Isidore Levinson. Secretly in love with Cora.
Robert Crawley – Viscount Downton, Lord Downton – The 22-year-old heir to the Crawley Estate: Downton Abbey
Richard Crawley – Lord Grantham, 6th Earl of Grantham – Robert's father
Violet Crawley – Lady Violet, Duchess of Grantham
Lady Rosamunde Painswicke – Eldest child of Richard and Violet. Married.
Sally Ames – Junior lady's maid to Lady Violet
Vance Edwards – Lord Grantham's valet
Duke Chambers - Phillip Brooks-Hill – A friend of Richard's, about to marry in Sorrento, Italy. He asked Richard to be his best man. Nickname of "Brooks"
Angelina Philogio – The fiancée of Phillip, a 22-year-old Italian woman. Pregnant out of wedlock by Philip.
Chapter 42 – Encounter
Finally, Rome and Naples were behind them on the journey and at last the ruins of Pompeii spread Robert's eyes. Robert Crawley scraped at the hard packed earth with the toe of his shoe, and turned up broken bits of pottery, some which were charred on their outer surfaces. "My heavens!" He exclaimed. "Just look at that!" He bent and picked one sherd up, holding the object in his hand. "Look at this Brooks!"
Phillip Brooks-Hill, Duke Chambers, also called 'Brooks,' laughed. "The gardeners have found buckets of those all-round my future father-in-law's villa plus pebbly ash as well." He grimaced. "It must have been a very bad day, that. Twenty-fourth of August, 79 AD."
Their guide, an old man with chipped and yellow teeth smiled and nodded. "Si, signori, very very bad," he said in heavily accented Italian English. "Many peoples? Dead. Burned up. Phfttt." The man waved his hands to the sky as if scattering ashes, or perhaps souls.
The Italian sun was bearing down from a cloudless sky and Robert felt every bit as hot as he had been when in Rome, so he was glad that his mother and father had stayed behind at the hotel. Mother had been very preoccupied lately, so having her stumbling or tripping on these ancient stone streets was not a good idea. His father had settled down with the English papers after he wrote out a few telegrams to send off. Business was always a concern for Father, and falling agricultural product prices did not make him one bit happy, nor pleasant to be around.
Robert turned to look at his father's chum. It was good for the two of them to be together, alone, given that Phillip's wedding was only in a few days. "How are you bearing up?" he asked.
Phillips grunted. "Angelina's relatives have been flocking in for the ceremony and to be honest all that chattering has been getting on my nerves. My Italian is not that bad and…" he stopped and frowned.
"What?"
"Some are not happy nor satisfied with me," he uttered with a sad tone.
"But the wedding is going ahead."
Phillip turned away from the guide and made a small round motion with his hand in front of his stomach. "Since things in that department continue to develop, then yes."
"Ah," Robert took his friends elbow for a moment but then released it. "And you love her?"
Philips laughed. "Oh, well enough. Her papa is loaded with money, and the dowry will be," he smiled, "acceptable." He looked into the distance. "And the girl herself? Well she is pleasant to look at."
Robert had been musing about his father's words about finances and his mother's plan to get him settled. Well, plenty of fish in the sea, he supposed, however he hoped that when the time came he'd be more excited than Brooks seemed to be. Didn't seem fair to Signorina Philigio, given the girl was pregnant. Robert was not quite shocked about the facts; he knew how things worked. That marriages were sometimes performed due to monetary or societal pressures. There were sometimes whispers cast about Lord Somebody and Lady Someone who suddenly became married, and strangely, or not, children were then forthcoming well before an expected due date. In Brooks case it was both, it seemed. Robert liked Brooks, one of his father's youngest friends, they often shot together or met when in London. He was a good fellow, a good chum, but Robert was slightly shocked about the biological necessity of a marriage too well connected to the financial side.
Robert turned around in the narrow street, examining the broken walls which stretched for a hundred yards, for the street and pavement had been completely cleared. Each thick wall was of brick and mortar, and many were as high as his head. Doorways here and there invited visitors to explore rooms beyond. "All those people. Gone," he said sadly.
"And then the Romans forgot about the place for 1600 years," Brooks grunted.
"But Pliny the Younger wrote about it; the eruption I mean." Robert added, as he turned his gaze towards the volcano Vesuvius which had destroyed the city and surroundings that terrible day. He tried to wipe away the mental image of panicked people trying to escape while the sky rained fire. At the same time though, he imagined the street alive with carts and donkeys, townspeople, tradesmen and sailors, while slaves patched a wall cracked by an earthquake.
Brooks laughed. "Your father tells me you were always a marvelous Latin student; better than I. And a student of history as well."
Robert nodded with thanks. "Nothing like reading the original letters in their original language. I do appreciate you introducing me to Dotore Fiorelli."
Phillips nodded. "Giuseppe Fiorelli, from what I have heard, is quite an excellent director of the excavations, and he is also a good friend of my future father-in-law. The man's been directing the excavations here since 1860. He is a tough customer, and he has stopped all treasure hunting that had been going on before his time. Paying for guards to protect the site from his very own pocket." He nodded towards their guide. "I wonder how much this one's dug up on a dark night," he whispered.
Robert juggled the pottery piece in his hand, lowered the object back to the ground, and then tenderly and carefully buried it back in the shallow divot he had scraped out. There, he thought, that is something for future scientists to find properly. He arose and turned his body when he heard voices around the corner. "More tourists," he muttered, slightly upset that their moment communing in this ancient empty street would be ruined by noisy people.
Well, no help for it, and despite himself, his legs turned him around, so he started to walk towards the disturbance.
Cora Levinson asked, "Is it safe?" She eyed the rickety ladder leaning against the cracked masonry wall with disdain. She, her mother's maid, and George Ackerman had been exploring the ruins of Pompeii for over three hours. She was tired, and thirsty, waiting for luncheon, and her shoes were pinching her feet. The large hat she wore shaded her face and neck, and though her silk dress had seemed a suitable garment at their hotel, in this heat it stuck to her back and chest like a wet blanket.
Their guide, a youngish man, who had slicked back hair, and also smelled faintly of sweat and garlic, smiled hugely. "Signora. I hold your hand as you climb. Yes?"
George Ackerman coughed into his hand. "I'll help with that," he volunteered as he elbowed the man aside.
The Italian guide smiled, while thinking this American was assertive, but given the stimulating beauty of the young lady, he himself would be protective of her. "Si, si!" he replied as he stepped aside. "You hold hand, yes? Wall is thick and from up there?" He pointed upward. "Much better view."
The Americans were obviously in awe of the ruins, and the guide was quite informative, plus his English was very good, so they got quite an appreciation of the sites of the ruined city.
Cora handed her parasol to Janine the maid, then started to climb, using both hands and feet. As she ascended,
George ended up standing below her, like the safety man underneath a trapeze performer at a circus. Mrs. Levinson had instructed him to take great care of Cora; see the ruins, and make her happy, but keep her safe. Feeling more like a guard dog than anything else, he stood below the ladder, which quivered as Cora climbed, and had to will himself to look away from her bottom, now well outlined by her dress. He caught the Italian sneering back at him, then the man looked upward with a leer.
He was about to give the man a piece of his mind, when he heard Cora exclaim from above, "I am on top, and oh my… it's wonderful to see. You must come up here!"
George turned and waved to the maid Janine. "You're next," he told her.
The woman shrunk away. "I'm perfectly happy to stay right here on solid ground, Mr. Ackerman. But do not let me stop you from enjoying yourself."
Atop the wall, Cora scanned the surroundings. Walls of houses and shops stretched away in all directions crisscrossed by streets and lanes. She looked down to see George start to climb up the ladder. "Oh George, you must see this!"
As she looked up from the ladder, she saw three men approach in the street below, just from around the corner. A guide and two people dressed in fine attire. One man was older, but the younger one – and the way he strode confidently along – seemed familiar. She turned away from the ladder, and carefully crept a few yards along the top of the wall, which was surprisingly flat and level, but she could see bricks underfoot; ancient bricks laid by workers so very long ago.
She pondered what they were like, those workers, what were their names? She bit her lip as she thought about them, lost in a sort of daydream, and then she felt her right ankle fold as she took a wrong step, or the brick had crumbled – thinking back she was never sure which – and then she was crying out as she fell.
Robert looked ahead at the noisy party as he rounded the corner. Two men and two women. Amazingly, one of the women was walking atop of the wall. She was a pretty thing; tall and slender with raven haired, wearing a sleek dress of rose and cream, and then the woman – no, a young lady, a girl – stumbled and began to fall. He immediately raced forward and sprang forward in an attempt to catch her.
He must catch her, for he had suddenly recognized her as Cora – that American girl.
Author's note:
I profusely apologize for letting this story languish for far too long. When I stopped I had gotten hung up, thinking about all the little details to be written, the research to be done, and just how long was I prepared to keep writing Cora's Journey? Writing, even fanfiction, can be a slog. Of course there were other things to keep me occupied – other hobbies and all the rest of life's concerns.
But since I grew up near Cincinnati, Ohio and presently live near the city, "Cora" is from 'my' town. :)
Well, I have finally decided to get this tale completed. We are nearly there…