Bonds of Time

Giselle shifted slightly and sighed.

She was warm; so very warm and comfortable. She had forgotten when she had last felt this warmth. She was wrapped in a blanket and just by shifting slightly; she could tell that she was on a bed.

And she knew that it wasn’t her bed. Her bed was never this comfortable, either because of the lumpy old mattress or because a pair of small kicking feet kept her awake during the night. The lack of movement of the small feet brought a frown to Giselle’s previously smooth face.

Where was her five year old brother, Ed?

Usually he always slept beside her because he was afraid of their father especially when in one of his drunken rages.

Not that he had ever hurt Ed.

The only victim was always Giselle, Ed was far too precious. Still, he was terrified of their father. So where was he?

Giselle moved her hand around, trying to find him. The bed felt bigger, and she remembered that she wasn’t in her room. So where was she?

Her eyes snapped open and they drank in the room she was in. It was dimly lit seeing as the dark blue curtains were still drawn across the window. And the room was decorated in a Victorian style, although the decorations were quite sparse.

The previous day’s memories came back to her in a rush, leaving her breathless.

Her head swam and her heart rate increased. Her breath came in short gasps as her hands bunched into the blanket covering her legs. She threw it off her, unable to sit still, and stood, hands clenching and unclenching rapidly as she paced beside the bed. Her hands ran through her cropped hair, pulling it back away from her face as she turned and sat down again.

Her thoughts were all jumbled; muddled and incoherent. Thoughts such as “What am I going to do? I have to get back!” And “Oh God, Ed! How can he cope all alone?” And “I’m missing lectures at university!” were running amok through her muddled mind.

She hurried back to the bed side table and picked up her phone, trying to phone her friend, Audrey. But to no avail.

“Of course; she’s not alive yet. Her phone is not here.”

She sat on the bed, her head in her hands, and tried to clear her mind; remove all thought from it. She opened her eyes and looked around her again.

She had slept in front of Sherlock Holmes’ fireplace, while talking to his dog; Gladstone if she wasn’t mistaken. She had fallen asleep at a man’s house, someone who she only knew by name and had previously thought to be purely fictional.

She had travelled back in time, while trying to escape two bullies, an d by doing so abandoned her small brother in a world where there was no one to care for him. She didn’t have a way to get back.

She had no money, nowhere to stay, no one to help her adjust to her new life. Her heart sunk even more as the two most pressing thoughts became even clearer. She was never going to see her brother again. And she could kiss her dream goodbye; doctors who were women were very rare in Victorian times.

A single tear escaped her eye, and she wiped at it furiously, making up her mind as she stood up and started pacing again.

She would find a job and find place where she could stay, until she gathered enough money to buy a small cottage or house somewhere or share a rented flat with someone. The latter option seemed much more viable.

But first, she had to ask for help.

She sighed and sat again on the bed. She only knew Holmes and Watson, and already felt embarrassed due to their help.

She was a proud person, she admitted to herself, and needing help would be a severe blow. Asking for it would mean swallowing her pride.

Another thought popped into her head as she remembered another memory.

She was, most probably, in danger. Holmes was one intelligent detective, and she knew that he had put many a man behind bars. And it was logical and obvious that he had a lot of people, who would love to see him, or someone close to him, suffer. The previous day he had introduced her to London’s underworld as his cousin, thus bringing her into the firing range.

The man who tried to rob her had no intention of aiming at Sherlock Holmes, whatsoever. But he was desperate for money, and information was just as valuable as objects, if not more.

She may not have been as intelligent as Holmes, but she was no idiot. By now, the criminal underworld was buzzing with the news of the odd detective’s equally odd cousin.

She sighed as she put on her shoes quickly, stood up and did the bed quickly. There was only one thing she could do, she decided, as she steeled her spine and turned towards the slightly open door.

She walked out of the bedroom and looked around the only slightly familiar landing. Her eyes travelled to a door, which was also slightly ajar. She could hear someone playing the violin from that room, and she knew that it was Holmes.

Giselle, silently, walked over to the room and knocked.

Holmes turned to look at her, putting down his violin. She frowned at the carpet and crossed her arms, feeling awkward.

“I need your help.” She stated as she looked up, her frown still etched on her face.

“You can speak to Mrs Hudson about the rent.” He said as he turned back to his violin.
Her mouth dropped open.

“I know you’re Sherlock Holmes and that you have amazing deductive abilities. But how did you know what I was going to say?”

“You woke up this morning in a strange place, in a time that is not yours, according to you. You have nothing and no one here, as you so explicitly said to the thief yesterday. Therefore you need a place to stay. Either buy a small house or find a couple of rooms. Buying a house is too expensive for you, so you’d take the second option. Preferably with a roommate, that way it would be cheaper.”

She nodded.

“And what else am I thinking about?”

He turned again and looked into her veiled eyes.

“You need a job. You don’t like to be dependent on someone else, definitely not the type to get married, at least not now. I could gather that much from yesterday.”

She shook her head; still unable to believe that he had just told summarized all her thoughts in half a minute. “Amazing.” She muttered, still amazed.

He shrugged and simply said “Elementary.”

She shook her head as if to clear it.

“Well? Are you helping me or not?” she said.

He motioned with his head towards the unoccupied armchair and said one simple word. “Sit.”

He walked towards the large window, observing the busy street, before turning to look at her. She noticed an odd gleam in his eyes, and she couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad.

“How do you feel about detective work?” Her jaw dropped open for the second time that morning.

“Did you say-“

“Detective work? Yes. You’ll need training of course.” He said as he walked back towards her. He sat on the armchair opposite her, put down the violin on the cluttered coffee table and put his fingertips together as he observed her.

“What kind of training are we talking about?”

“Deductive skills, disguise, defence, problem solving, general knowledge; anything you’ll need. What do you think?”

She looked at him with narrow eyes.

“Why are you offering this?” She asked. “Why would you offer a woman that you don’t know somewhere where to live and offer her a job with you?”

“I need an assistant and a roommate. You happened to be first one I considered worthy.”

She raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“I may not be as intelligent as you, Mr Holmes. But I am no idiot. You don’t know me, so why are you offering all this? What is your motive?”

“That is easily rectified. Tell me all about yourself.” He said as he settled himself back and crossed his legs.

“Why should I when you can deduce everything by yourself?”

“Yes, I can. But I want you to tell me.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. She knew that he was doing all this for a reason, what she didn’t know was why. He didn’t strike her as a man that would deliberately put a woman in danger. But then again, she didn’t know him.

“What is your motive?” she replied slowly and quietly.

“I simply want a roommate and an assistant. I am not lying to you; I swear on my honour.” He said, highly amused. She calculated him once again. The fact that he didn’t say I am not going to betray you was not lost on her. Still, he was her only chance.

He and Watson were the only people whom she knew and had helped her. If he were to betray, he would already have done so. Although why he should betray her, she didn’t know. After all she had only just arrived. She took a shuddering breath and started her tale.

“Ask me, and I’ll answer.” She said.

“How did you end up here?”

“I was about to start a course. I want to become a doctor. It’s my life’s ambition. I-wanted to escape unwanted attentions and walked through a door in a physics lab by mistake, which happened to be the time machine.” She stopped and shrugged. “You know the rest.”

He nodded and looked at her lightly bruised cheek. “You were escaping the people responsible for your bruises.” He stated.

She nodded, frowning.

“Why?” he asked.

“There’s no need to know. They’re not here. You have my word, it’s not my fault.”

“So you’re a victim?”

She nodded as a response.

He stroked his chin as he regarded her.

“Tell me about your family.”

“I am the oldest child. I have a younger brother; five years old. My mother died during childbirth and my father, well, he died with her. He’s a dead man walking, not supportive. My only family, you could say, is Edward, my only brother.”

She broke off and looked at the window, her eyes suddenly glittering.

“And he’s all alone. I-he won’t be able to cope.”

She stopped and sighed.

“I just hope that Audrey will realize something’s wrong and get him out of the house before he’s too scarred emotionally and mentally.”

“So your father’s abusive.” He stated again as she nodded and turned to look at him.

“I’m not searching for sympathy Mr Holmes, but I did not have an easy childhood. My mother was a sickly person and my father’s attentions were almost always solely on her. I had to make my way alone, and when my brother was born I was the one to raise him. For five years, he’s been like a son to me. He’s the closest person that I will ever have in my time on earth.”

Holmes nodded and looked out the window, observing the cloudy sky.

“You’re not telling me everything.” He said finally.

“I’ve told you all you need to know Mr Holmes. I’m still entitled to some privacy, am I not?”

He ignored her question and asked another of his own.

“What do you think of my proposition?”

She sighed.

“I’ll doubt I’ll find a better offer. Detective work; it’s much better than being a maid.” Her face twisted with disgust as she said the word ‘maid’. “Or nanny.”

“Yes, Mr Holmes. I’ll take the offer, on the condition that I am not used as an experiment, to prove a point or betrayed.” She said.

“You have my word; I’ll keep my end of the bargain if you keep yours. What applies to me applies to you.”

He stood up suddenly and walked to the window.

“Ah, there’s our dear doctor on his way.”

Needless to say, John was not at all convinced with Holmes’ ideas; not that Sherlock was very explicit with his reasoning.

“Of all the ideas that you had to come out with...what happened to your ‘need for privacy’? And ‘any presence hindering your process of thought’?” John sighed, as they walked from the baker back to 221B.

“Hardly, my dear Watson. It’s not as if I am about to spill my life’s secrets to Miss Elmer.”

“Holmes, you hardly ever allow Mrs Hudson into your rooms, and you know her pretty well. How are you going to allow a woman you hardly know into your confidence? Need I remind you what happened the last time you trusted such a woman?”

Holmes’ face hardened into an unreadable mask.

“There’s no need to remind me of such memories, Watson. And all this is to ensure that Miss Elmer is not another Irene Adler.”

“What about rent? How is she going to pay?”

“By finding an occupation, of course.”

John sighed as he looked tiredly at his friend.

“There is no convincing you otherwise, is there?”

Sherlock smiled as he stepped to the side to avoid a small puddle of muddy water.

“No chance at all, my dear friend.”

He purposefully left out that he had offered to train her as a fellow detective assistant.