The Gateway - Chapter III: Alice

‘Time is running out John,’ said the bandaged figure that had previously claimed to know what lay beyond the gateway.
‘What do you mean?’ I stammered.
‘The clock is counting down to the day when ordinary people will take up arms and fight the enemy.’ He answered, his voice inspired and yet creepily cold at the same time.
‘Who exactly are the enemy?’ I inquired.
‘We have two enemies; firstly and most importantly, the Germans. Secondly, the single type of people who are causing the destruction of society, who mock the word of God with their constant sin and hypocrisy, those who tie us down with the morals they don’t live by themselves – socialists.’ With that foreboding note the rebel child and the world outside of the gateway blurred and I sank once more into the darkness and tranquillity of a deep sleep.

I awoke to the smell of eggs frying. I would have liked to smell bacon cooking as well but alas Aunt Laura did not have any pigs on the farm and had not recently purchased any bacon or pork from any of the neighbouring farms. All of the farmers surrounding Blackberry were on pretty good terms, if a farm couldn’t sell to the villagers then they could always sell to the cities and so any competitiveness was unnecessary. Furthermore all of the farms were self-sufficient thus meaning profit was not necessary though it did of course help with regards to repairs and new equipment.

William came up to our bedroom with eggs on toast neatly balanced on a tray with a glass of milk, a separate smaller plate with plain toast, a pot of jam and a knife to spread it with. I thanked him and commented on how I could get used to breakfast in bed everyday to which he reminded me that this was not a hotel, as I would soon find out. I ate quickly, eager to explore the village in the full light and to be able to experience my first day of country life.

Shortly after I had finished my breakfast William showed me around the village. We started in the centre, which, in similar fashion to Outset, was home to a large church. It had a tall pointed spire with a rather ominous, black weathervane casting its beady eye upon me, which reminded me of the idea that God is always watching you. The public house was to the east of the church at the other end of the village. William told me this was done consciously so that the public house wouldn’t be linked to the church, geographically speaking anyway, as many of the ‘holy men’ of Outset Village would intoxicate themselves after a sermon. From what I could gather after my first ten minuets in Blackberry is that this place took religion much more seriously than in the city, which had seen the rise of decadence and immoral behaviour recently according to my father, whom spoke of a playwright named Wilde who supposedly endorsed this behaviour before calling him some sort of derogatory term of which I’m afraid I am unsure of the meaning.

Blackberry also had a post office, a bakery, and a tool shop, which sold items ranging from screwdrivers to sickles. This, as William informed me, was where we would go to get new tools if our current ones broke or were ineffective. This did wither my spirits a little as it seemed apparent that I would have the job, some days at least, to cut grass with the sickle to make some fodder for the cattle. Still I looked forward to the day I may be able to ride Isaac or even Equestrian. There was a small primary school about five minuets east from the church that educated until the age of eleven, which meant that I would be attending first thing on Monday. To be honest this did make me feel quite nervous, I had not fitted in all that well in the city and I did not feel that the highly religious primary school would make me feel all that welcome either. There was no secondary school and William said that either you went to a school in Outset Village until you were fourteen as he had done or you could catch a train to nearby Kent to learn there.

William showed me a few other features of the village before announcing we were going to see a friend of his. He said that she had a little sister would be in my class at school and it would be a perfect opportunity for me to make friends before I start.

William knocked on the wooden door, which had a doorknocker in the shape of a lion. The house was situated just round the corner from the bakery. A woman with black hair and rose-tinted cheeks opened the door. She was slightly rotund, but had a very jolly demeanour and beamed as she saw William and I.
‘William, my dear, what a lovely surprise, and this must be your little cousin John.’ She smiled at me, and though I did feel rather patronised by her, I smiled politely back. She turned her back to us briefly and called through her house to the kitchen.
‘Jane, darling, William is here,’ a distinct sound of movement and the putting down of plates could be heard and with that the woman smiled at us one last time and retreated to the kitchen passing her teenage daughter on the way.

Jane had long blonde hair that was tied back into a ponytail and unlike her mother had a slim figure and blue eyes. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a plain white top.
She smiled with brilliant white teeth.
‘Hey, William,’ she said breathlessly, ‘I’ve just been making ham sandwiches. Y’ know, for our picnic later?’ With this I cast William a questioning look, as this was the first I had heard of a picnic and was rather annoyed that William had conveniently forgotten to inform me of this. William smiled at me apologetically, though I doubt it was at all sincere; he had probably been planning this ever since he heard news I was coming to live with him. It was a perfect set-up for him, there was no doubt in my mind he had feelings for Jane and when we go to Dark Moor to eat our picnic I would be with Alice and he would have time on his own with Jane. Clearly William was quite a contrast to the simple farm boy I imagined he would be, for so far he was turning out to be a sly as a fox.

Jane beckoned for us to come in and showed us seats in the living area and told us to make ourselves at home whilst she finished making the sandwiches and packing them in the hamper. The living area had a dark sort of wood for the floorboards; there was a bookshelf in the furthermost corner from the door, which contained book that ranged from factual subjects such as gardening to fictional novels. Also near the bookcase was a gramophone. It was very homely, though small and there was a pleasant mellow smell that had filled the room and with it came a sense of tranquillity and peacefulness.
‘Jane?’ a voice descended down the stairs. ‘Where did you put my hairbrush?’ Soft feet tread on the wooden stairs, they went down one by one and from my position of the sofa I could see the purple socks that dressed these feet. Soon a dress came into view, which was azure in colour. The person going down the stairs suddenly broke into a canter and I only glimpsed the brunette colour of their hair.
‘Jane?’ a small face popped round the edge of the doorframe and it was then I first laid eyes on Alice.

Her azure dress flattered her large blue eyes, which sparkled with an excited intensity. Her chocolate hair draped her shoulders and an awkward smile formed on her lips, the colour of which reminded me of rosé wine I had seen in shop windows in London. Her cheeks looked a soft as a peach and her frame was slender and graceful like a lady of position and stature.
‘Sorry,’ she started apologetically. She looked at William and then at me. She shyly turned her head and looked back at William, ‘do you know where my sister is?’
‘She’s in the kitchen Alice, this is John by the way,’ he said and gestured to me with his head. Alice looked at me again and gave a nervous smile before retreating to the kitchen.
‘Shy isn’t she?’ William smiled after Alice had left. “Still, so are you by all accounts so you two should get on famously,” William added and smiled cheekily at me. I smirked, discarding what he had just said though, I suppose there is some truth to it, I was never the most social person at my school in the city, but perhaps things will change here.
‘Hey John,’ said William in a hurried voice.
I lifted my head to look at him.
‘Did you see that guy who’s about my age, blonde, blue eyed, got three siblings; looks German?’
I assumed he was talking about the old man’s grandchildren and Andrew in particular. I nodded my head.
‘Did he come on the train with you? I haven’t seen him around before. Have you seen that huge dog he has?’ William seemed excited; he was clearly intrigued by Andrew.
‘Yes, he was on the train, but I have not seen the dog before.’ I stated, not really interested in discussing anything at present; my thought were still with Alice.
‘Rumour has it that he and his siblings are staying with Reverend Osborne.’ William said.
‘The reverend?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, it’s a wonder Father Osborne lets him keep a dog like that.’
This was true. From what I had heard Father Osborne was an extremely strict Christian. Aunt Laura said he was bordering on extreme. I wondered if Andrew had any influence over the reverend. It seemed to me like Andrew, despite his years, had an awfully commanding presence.

Jane entered the room with Alice at her side carrying a hamper.
‘Alright,’ she smiled, ‘we have about two dozen ham sandwiches, half a dozen tomatoes, about three pints of homemade lemonade and a cake mother made yesterday’. William rose from his seat, wrapped his arm around Jane’s waist, pulled her toward him, and proclaimed:
‘Let us get going then.’

The four of us set off with Jane and William walking at a slightly quicker pace than Alice and me so their romantic whispers were well out of earshot from us. Alice and me, still too uncomfortable with each other to have conversation, made a game out of getting close enough to them to hear their clichéd utterances of love and devotion. Naturally William and Jane did not take kindly to this and I received many scowls from the former as Alice did from the latter. This, for the sacrifice of vexing the two teenagers, did make Alice and myself more comfortable with each other.
‘What do you think of Blackberry John?’ she asked, her voice not quite assertive but with notably more confidence than the first sweet words I had heard pour serenely from her mouth.
‘It seems nice, it is much smaller than I expected though,’ I answered.
‘Everyone knows each other so it’s good. Well nearly everyone. Will you be at church on Sunday?’
I nodded my heard and glanced away for a second or two as to survey Dark Moor.
‘We never went to church in the city though.’
Alice stopped dead and eyed me with reproach. Her eyes fell to look at the ground with embarrassment.
‘You never went to church?’ she said still staring solemnly at the ground.
‘No,’ I started tentatively; clearly the former piece of information I had given had shocked her and thus I must tread more carefully from henceforth as not to put myself in darker light than I am already in, ‘religion in the city is not revolving around the church, it is revolving around the shilling and the pound.’
‘You have much to repent for John, you should attend mass everyday from hereafter as so to repay the sacrifice Jesus made. He died to cancel your sins; you can at least pay tribute to him by hearing the word of his Father, the Lord God.’ Her eyes lifted from the grass of the vale and bore into mine as she spoke this. I looked away, uneasy from the intensity of her blue eyes, and my eyes fell upon the Red River, which gently slithered along the riverbed as a snake does through grass, bending and turning at certain points in an almost rhythmic pattern. In my repentance that I had not repaid Jesus I had failed to notice that William and Jane had stopped and were staring at us.
‘Cheer up you two, you look like you’ve both been told you’ll be executed at dawn,’ William said gleefully, ‘let us climb this hill and have our picnic upon it.’

I begrudgingly moved forward and neither Alice nor I had the courage to meet each other’s eyes as we climbed the hillock. Jane opened the hamper and laid down a white cloth with red stripes running through it vertically and horizontally creating squares. On this cloth William and Jane placed the sandwiches and the tomatoes, the lemonade and the cake. Jane passed Alice and me a sandwich and we began to eat.
‘So how is school going Alice?’ William asked. Alice finished her mouthful of ham sandwich before replying:
‘Very well, thank you William, we learned about growing crops today. Incidentally, how are things on the farm?’
‘Hard, but it’ll be better now we have John and Uncle David and Aunt Lisa to help rear the cattle and grow the crops.’
Jane leaned toward William.
‘You know I’ll help you with the animals if you need me to.’ She said smiling sweetly at him.
‘I wouldn’t want to burden you with such things darling.’ William replied smoothly.
The sun was presently shining upon us and so it was a great shock to us when a shadow fell upon our picnic. We all raised our eyes to find a pair of icy blue ones meeting them. A lock of blonde hair fell over the left eye, which was brushed aside, and a slow smile formed upon the lips.
‘Hello all, I am Andrew.’
‘What do you want?’ asked William slowly, an edge of aggression present in the tone.
‘Well have you not heard of what we must do?’ Andrew asked, his eyes narrowing at William.
‘In regards to what,’ Jane asked with irritation to Andrew’s cryptic manner.
‘That they plan to make us go to church! Ha, what a highly comical idea. The church is a house of lies; it is distinctly similar to the House of Commons.’
William rose from his sitting position, and in an authoritative voice said:
‘How dare you speak of the church in such a way, have you no honour, no grace? What causes you to blaspheme in such a way, the Lord God gave you life, he can take it back also.’
‘What, with using you as a vehicle to do so I suppose?’ Andrew scorned. ‘The only political institution existing in England that is pure is the House of Lords.’
‘And why is that?’ William scowled.
‘Why? It is pure because it is not contaminated by public opinion of course. The House of Commons has Mr. Herbert Asquith spouting lies and deformed ideas as how to make this country better. His corruption is emphasised by the forcing of passage of The Parliament Act 1911 which was passed last year; making the House of Lords weaker as it was stopping his outrageous acts being passed. Perhaps you have heard of something called the People’s Budget; something which leeches from those with land. It effectively steals from those who have worked hard to earn money, or those who are in polite society. It feeds the monster they call the National Insurance Act 1911. That Act is an abomination to what this country stands for; it promotes idleness by giving no less than seven shillings a week for up to fifteen weeks to those to lazy to get a job. It appears to me that this must be stopped. Asquith and his Liberal government must be brought down.’

William had at this point become speechless, no doubt he had not heard of the Acts of Parliament and had no idea what Andrew was talking about. It was around then when William’s eyes lit up for his gaze had fallen on a particularly attractive girl of fifteen approaching the five of us. Her brunette hair was shoulder length and her hazel eyes were filled with bleakness of which I have never seen before in someone so young, not that William gaze was fixed on her eyes, it was in fact fixed slightly lower than her neck.

‘He is a cruel liar, like all men, that Asquith is,’ she said coldly. ‘He promised…’ She bit her lip to prevent seething anger getting through, ‘he promised the vote to women who owned property in the nineteen-ten election campaign and what did he do? He gave the vote to all adult men the subsequent year, November last year to be precise. He is a disgrace; we need a heroic prime minister to lead us against the Germans if we do go to war with them. I think Emmeline Pankhurst should be the prime minister.’ Stated this girl, she looked wild with her passion for women’s suffrage, but in a rather romanticised way than an uncultured way as Andrew would have you believe. Andrew laughed deliriously.
‘Don’t be silly Susan, there shan’t be a female prime minister for centuries and when there is they certainly wont be a raging feminist like Pankhurst. They shall be domestic and motherly as women should be.’
‘You know brother, you shouldn’t think women of being so innocent and incompetent of intelligence and rational thinking; it may just be your downfall one day.’ Susan retorted darkly.
‘One can hardly blame me for thinking women are incapable of understanding politics and factual information when the strongest opposition to my thoughts is someone as fantastical as yourself.’ Andrew snapped, angry with his sister for trying to undermine him.
‘Calm yourself brother,’ said another girl climbing the hillock, her hair was a straw-blonde colour and she had intelligent green eyes and a bemused smile plastered on her face. At a guess I would say she was about eleven or twelve years of age. ‘We have more important matters to deal with at the moment than that of which sex is better.’
‘Felicity is right,’ said another boy climbing the hillock with the girl, he looked thirteen years old. A large black dog accompanied him, it had no leash; the boy seemed to have complete control of it.
‘Cerberus sit.’ The boy commanded. The dog did as it was told.
‘Nice to have you join us Felicity and Peter,’ Andrew conceded, unwilling to engage in further argument in front of myself, William, Jane and Alice.
‘I suppose I’ll be seeing you all soon. Do have a nice picnic.’ Andrew said before he departed with his siblings and Cerberus.
When he had gone William turned to all of us and said, in a rather rough voice:
‘Well, that was weird.’

I supposed it was but I had an unwelcome feeling that Andrew and his brother and sisters had more extreme and highly controversial views that they had yet to voice.