Time After Time

A banging came from above; someone was trying to get into the chapel. Kate hurried down the steps. They might rip the chapel apart and find the passage or Mabel might tell them. Kate did not know what to think about Mabel, but she was sure her host would want to keep the passage a secret.

There were only a dozen or so steps until Kate arrived at the bottom. She was at the end of a circular stone shaft tunneling under the field in the direction of Wigan. The light from her candle only extended a few feet, so Kate could not tell how far the passage stretched. She stooped to enter, as the ceiling was a couple of inches too low for her. The height would be right for Mabel and most of the other people in the household.

Water leaked from flooded land above. It ran down the walls, turning the floor of the tunnel into a shallow stream, through which Kate waded. She reached out; the stones were slimy to the touch and crumbling in places. This tunnel was ancient, even now in the middle ages. She wondered who could have built it.

Kate hurried along, taking care with the candle. Looking for sub passages might lead back to the surface. After ten minutes, her back ached from her bent posture. By now she must have crossed under the fields and be beneath the woods.

Apart from the dripping, there was no sound apart from Kate’s own breath. Would there be enough air if the passage continued much further. There must be. Someone had built it for a purpose, and Mabel had used it. Where had Mabel gone that night?

Something scurried over Kate’s foot. She jumped and dropped the candlestick. The candles flickered out, and she was in darkness. She put her hands on the walls to steady herself. The sound of tiny scratching against the stone echoed through the tunnel. Which direction had she been heading? Kate stumbled on, dragging her fingers along the oozing walls, desperate to find a way out.

On she went through the endless void; the passage narrowed, pressing in on her. The water on the floor grew deeper until she waded through water that reached her waste. Something swam past her in the opposite direction, and she wondered whether she ought to do the same.

Mabel must have been going somewhere. There must be a way out.

There was a distant flickering ahead, little more than a speck. She doubled her speed. The water slowed her, but now she had hope. The darkness soon lightened, until she could make out the walls again. The waters shimmered with light.

Kate arrived at the brightest spot and looked up to see a thin shaft. Sunlight poured through, but the shaft was too narrow for her to climb. She leaned against the wall, filling her lungs with the fresh air. In the filthy damp tunnel, she had forgotten it was daytime on the surface. It was late afternoon now and the light was now fading.

She could not stay like this for much longer. The shaft was too narrow to climb. She had to either continue or turn back. If she returned the way she had come, Lancaster would capture her, and execute Tom and Pete. She had no idea where the tunnel would lead, or whether she would ever see daylight again.

She ducked into the tunnel and carried on into the darkness.

Was it another hour? It seemed an eternity. The water had gone now, though soon the roof lowered until Kate had to crawl on her hands and knees. There was a rhythmic repetitive sound. The tunnel had narrowed so much she had to wriggle along; scrapes and bruises covered her skin. The sound grew clearer, it was chanting. There was not enough room to turn around now, even if she tried. Light burned ahead, flames. The chanting grew louder. In the distance, she could say a halo of yellow light growing larger as she pushed herself along. The roof of the tunnel had broken away in parts, so she had to push large pieces of stone out of the way to squeeze through. After a long exhausting struggle, she made it to the opening.

She peered out into a small corridor. There were burning torches fixed to the wall and two doors with tiny grills. Stairs led upwards and other tunnels ran in different directions. The voices echoed around the chamber.

She slipped through the hole and collapsed onto the floor. There was no time to pause. She crept to the first door, and peeped through the grill.

Inside was a large chamber crowded with people in brown, hooded robes. At the centre of the room, a man in white robes stood in front of a stone altar, tied to which was a struggling goat. His voice boomed, and the others repeated his words, which Kate could not decipher. The man at the centre held a long sharp knife. He slit the animal’s throat, sending blood spraying across the room.

Kate turned away in horror, and headed for the steps, but another sound stopped her, a sobbing. She strode to the other door, and looked through the grill. Inside, a spluttering torch lit the room. There were more goats, unaware of the fate waiting them. Also, sat on a bale of straw, was a girl of about ten. Kate tried the door. It was locked but the key was still in the hole. She turned it and pushed the door open. The girl cowered in the corner.

“It’s ok,” said Kate.

Kate rushed to the girl and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to the door. The chanting had stopped. There were footsteps in the corridor.

“Sit,” whispered Kate. The girl obeyed. Kate ran back across the room and hid behind the door. She grabbed a loose heavy stone from the floor and waited.

A man entered the cell. He was tall, robed and confused by the open door. Kate slammed the rock into the side of his head. He collapsed to the floor.

“Quick, come with me.”

They ran through the door. Kate closed it, and they climbed the stone steps. At the top was a trap door, which Kate pushed open. She stepped into the cool night air and pulled the girl after her. She closed the trap door and looked around. They were in the gardens of a church.

“Here, help me,” said Kate.

Together they lifted a heavy rock and dropped it on the trap door. They found two more and did the same.

Something slammed against it from underneath. There was shouting.

“It will slow them, but I don’t know where the other tunnels lead. There could be other ways out. Come on.”

Kate ran through the gardens looking for a way out, while the girl followed. Kate recognised the building. It had not clicked at first because the stone was light and clean, and there were no other buildings around.

By the 1980s, the stone would be black, covered with the soot that had poured from chimneys for a century, poisoning the atmosphere and settling upon the town like a mourning veil. This was the Parish Church.

The town was no more than a few buildings clustered together on a little hilltop. The centre of the streets ran with raw sewage. The only light flooded through the windows of an inn, a little further uphill. The door opened and a man with long greasy hair flew out. He landed in the gutter, the sound of laughter and loud music following him. A stout man with thick bare arms and a long white apron barked at him not to return and slammed the door. Kate and the girl hurried on. Within a few minutes, they emerged onto a hillside, almost empty of habitation.

At least she now knew where she was. She had spent hours crawling underground in the wrong direction. Now she must turn north again to get to Charnock Richard.

“What’s your name?” Kate asked.

They had been running for fifteen minutes with no sign of anyone, so they slowed to a walk to conserve energy.

“Mary Aindow, Miss.”

Kate examined the girl as they walked. She wore the clothes of someone from a Victorian workhouse. Her mousey hair was pinned into a bun, and on her feet, she wore a heavy pair of clogs. She avoided eye contact with Kate.

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know miss. I was looking for my dad. They said he was in the pit when it happened It’s not true.. He likes to walk in the Plants, so I went...,” she sobbed.

“What happened?”

“There was an explosion. The men were all in the pit...”

“Do you have any idea where you are Mary?”

“No miss. I mean, it’s like the book by Mr. Wells.”

“The Time Machine?”

“Yes Miss, they opened a library for the workers last year... Well, 1909 I mean. I go there all the time. I like Mr. Wells’s stories. When I read them, I escape to another world.”

“There can’t be many girls your age at the library.”

“The others reckon I’m strange.”

“Do you remember how you came here?”

“There was a green light. I got lost, and those people took me and put me in the cell. What were they going to do to me?”

“Don’t worry about it now. We’ll get somewhere safe. I need to find my friends. It’s going to be a long walk. Do you know Charnock Richard?”

“My Auntie Nellie lives there.”

“Do you think you can make it?”

“Yes Miss. Mam sends me there every Saturday with some food.”

“Good, you can help me. I’ve only been once. Can I ask you a personal question Mary?”

“Yes Miss.”

“You mentioned your dad. Is he your real dad?”

Mary looked Kate in the eyes for the first time. “No Miss. My mum and dad adopted me.”

“You don’t need to call me Miss. My name is Kate.”

“Yes Miss.”