Balloon post 3

Second post today to make up for yesterday.
Work in progress, please excuse the mess!

Chapter Two

 

At the top of the stairs Liza hesitated a moment, wondering briefly just how much she should show Mary. When Mary made a small mewing sound of impatience, Liza knew she must show her everything. With a flourish Liza pushed the door open to her bedroom cum laboratory. She smiled at it all as Mary, behind her, took in a sharp breath.

“Sorry it is such a mess-“ Liza began.

“Nonsense.” Mary said curtly, stepping around Liza and going straight for a long wooden work table set up underneath a tall window. Liza liked to work there because the light was so good during most of the day. Mary began to examine the many items strewn across the table, taking a moment to look at each one, occasionally bending over the table a closer look and once even gentle touching a large flat black piece of material that looked like rubber.

“Whale skin.” Liza offered. Mary nodded but was otherwise silent. Liza was not sure exactly what to say, so she waited, her heart pounding, behind Mary, still at the table.

Finally Mary stopped for a long time at what looked like a large silver pocket watch, It was propped open to display the face, but instead of a regular white clock face it had series of marking with the number 28-32 on it. Between each of those numbers were more marks and in the middle, between each number, the number 5. Inset into the main face was a smaller face dial in a cut out section father main face. It was black and had more numbers on it. It was reading just above zero. Mary let her fingers rest on it for a moment.

“That’s an Alti-“

“Altimeter, yes, yes I know.” Mary said quickly. Then she suddenly turned around, red in the face. “Oh, I’m sorry, so sorry, gosh that was very rude of me. It’s just that yes, I recognized it right away.”

Liza’s eyes were wide. “You did?”

Mary nodded. “Do you alight then, in balloons?”

Mary blushed again and looked down on the floor. “Oh no, no, no. I am afraid I am not quite that exciting. I do read lot however, but not much on Aerospace.” The words tumbled out of her, as if she was afraid Liza would cut her off at any moment, but Liza did not. “But, but just the other day, last week, I did happen upon a volume on the sport, sorry, the science, of flight and the importance of altimeters, you know, to determine how far up one has traveled, least one reaches too far… I am sorry, I afraid I am boring you. You must think me some sort of fool, carry on like this…”

“No, no, not at all. I am just, well, dumbfounded to be honest. I don’t think I have met too many girls like yourself Mary. It is I who must apologize to you.”

“Me, but why? You have done nothing wrong!”

“Oh but I have. You see I misjudged you horribly just now, downstairs. I am embarrassed to say I took you for some sort of… socialite or something. Someone totally uninterested in anything I would find interesting…”

To Liza’s surprise Mary laughed. “It’s not funny!”

“No, of course not” Mary said, still laughing. “It’s just that I thought the very same thing. I was sure you were looking down at me as some sort of uncultured country mouse.”

Liza now took a turn laughing and grasped Mary’s hands.

“That is rich! Wait until I tell Grandfather. He’ll be delirious with happiness I suspect. He wants nothing more than for me to be a refined and cultured lady and I am far from it.”

“Not that far.” Mary said her tone serious. “You play a fine hostess.”

“Well, fine enough now tell me Mary, what sort of things to you normally read when not stealing glances at books on human flight…”

“Nothing that exciting, I can assure you, but it does interest me.”

“Go on…”

“Well, I have taken a slight interest in plants, especially plants native to our British Isles and Europe. Mother and Father say I read too much, but I don’t think I read enough, to be honest. There is so much I do not yet know. For example, whilst we were coming into your house I noticed ivy goring up the front…”

“You did? Of our house, ivy?” Liza was puzzled. She’d never noticed it, but as she thought about it she had never noticed any plants in front of the house. Surely there must be some.

“Yes, quite sure. But I am less sure which variety.”

“Variety? There is more than one?”

“Oh yes, many types, and I could tell you the several types that grow well here in the south and in cities, but not which on you have… oh listen to me go on.”

“No, that is fascinating. I just never thought about it. I guess I am too busy tinkering. As I think about it, you know, I have not been out of the house in several days. a whole forest could have grown up outdoors I would never know…”

Mary smiled and then turned back to the table, renewing her focus on the many objects strewn about. “What is all of this then? Are you fixing things for people?”

“For myself. Well, for my grandfather, to be precise. That is his altimeter. I am trying to get everything ready for our trip…”

“Trip? Where? In a balloon? Oh, I am sorry, I am being rude again…”

Liza came up beside Mary and turned to face her. “My dear Mary, let us decide to be friends and if we are friends, then there are no rude questions, agreed.”

Mary blushed again and nodded, she then chuckled.

“What is it Mary?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that Mother sent me down here to meet young people, perhaps a girl my age to teach me proper social graces. And here I am, having met you. Yet I suspect dear mama would not consider this” Mary swept her hand over the table “as proper graces.”

“No, I guess not. Now you are sounding like my grandfather.”

“Does he disapprove?”

“Sometimes, but mostly not. After all the trip is his idea.”

“Yes, the trip, do tell me.”

Liza started to say something but stopped. The she started again.”Mary, I will tell you all, I promise, but I am not sure how much I should tell you… or anyone” she added quickly” until we know more. You see, my grandfather and I have found out something, something that could be amazing. However we need to find out more and to secure.. certain things, and people, first. Until then I am sworn to secrecy,”

“I see, well that sounds very unfair. I thought perhaps I was starting out on some grand adventure, but perhaps not.” Mary sounded genuinely sad. Liza bit her lip.

“Alright, look, I really can’t tell you very much, but I can tell you this. Tomorrow morning Grandfather and I are sailing for a town not far from London to find a Mister Cogwright. We think he can help us. If he agrees too do so then our trip is much more likely.”

“Oh take me with you please! I swear I won;t interfere, but I have never sailed before. In a balloon I mean.”

“Really?” Liza sounded unbelieving but Mary jus nodded. “Well…. I guess it might be alright.”

“Oh thank you, thank you so much!” Mary grabbed Lizas hands and smiled a bright smile. What had seemed like dull grey eyes not seemed like stormy blue ones, full of life and energy.

“Now, I must ask first of you can go, and I guess you should ask your Uncle. We’ll leave early, around eight int he morning.”

“I can be here whenever you like!”

“And you’ll have to wear something sensible…” Mary nodded.

Balloons post 2

Oops, forgot to post yesterday, so today you get two posts.
Work in progress novel as I write it!-----------------------------------------------------------

At exactly three minutes of eight Liza made her way down the stairs, past the study, to the first floor dining room. Her Grandfather’s row home was not a mansion, but it was pleasantly roomy. He had done well overseas and this afforded a comfortable house. Liza gave her Grandfather a hard time, she knew, but she was grateful that he had taken her in after the death of her parents. It could not have been easy for him to find out, upon his retirement from her Majesty’s army, that he would become the caretaker to a little rambunctious 13 year old in pigtails and a dirty sundress.

And now, six years later, she was no longer little but still rambunctious. Tonight however, she had cleaned herself up, even going so far as to have the upstairs maid help her arrange her hair into something decidedly un-pigtail like. She had also scrubbed her face and put on clean clothes, a dress this time.

 

She came into the parlor to find her grandfather already entertaining his guests. Standing near the roaring fire was a tall thin man, whose thinness and height seemed even greater next to Liza’s stout grandfather. This, she knew, was Colonel James Rodney Thornsberry. He had served with her Grandfather in India as his second-in-command. He had a haughty air and a pencil thin mustache, but was nice enough, she guessed. She would have liked him a bit more if he had been capable of talking about anything other than his life in the army. He would prattle on for hours about what he used to do, how well he did it and how much he missed it.

Seated on a small settee to the side of the fireplace was a young girl with black hair done up in a severe style. She had on a dark blue velvet dress down out with black ribbons. She had a rather sour look on her face, dull grey eyes and pursued lips and sat with her back so straight is was as if someone had stuck a broom down her back. Liza steeled herself inwardly. She had met this type before- stuck up uptight and nary a single original thought worth mentioning.

It was going to be a long evening.

 

“Ah, here is my Granddaughter now Thornsberry. You remember her.”

“Ah yes, of course. So lovely to see you again.”

Liza gently shook his proffered hand and smiled.

“Allow me to introduce you to my niece, Ms. Mary Petronilla Gosling. She is my sister’s daughter, my, ah, niece.”

“I am so happy to make your acquaintance Mary.” Liza said, trying to sound as bland and nonthreatening as possible. Mary smiled without moving any other part of her body other than he mouth and her right hand, which she offered up to Liza.

“Likewise.”

Liza wanted to scream, but instead smiled back and turned to the Colonel. “So, your sister is in town then?”

“Oh no, no. Emma felt it would be good for Mary to see the city, take in the sights. You know, do the city tour.”

“You’re not from London then?” Liza turned back to Mary.  Mary shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“Up north.” the Colonel said, as if that explained everything.

“Well! I am sure Liza would be happy to show Mary around town, show her the sites as it were.” Liza’s Grandfather bellowed. Liza shot him glance.

“I am sure you are already very busy.” Mary said quickly.

Yes, yes! Liza wanted to scream, but instead she said “Oh no, of course not. I’d be glad too.” And I also want to stab my hand with a dinner fork, she thought.

 

Dinner was not a total disaster. Liza was able to keep things moving along, although the effort to keep things light and to get Mary to say more than three words practically did her in. By the time desert was brought in Liza was on the very last of her polite stories and charming anecdotes and was about to launch into a detailed discussion of how she planned to take Mary to the Thames and shove her in. She had never been to glad to see sherbet in her entire life.

 

After dinner, as the four of them left the dining room, Liza’s grandfather suddenly turned to Liza. “Why don’t you show Mary your laboratory? I am sure she’d like that.”

Liza was mortified. Why would some stuck up socialite want-to-be have any interest in something other than dresses or parties?

“Well, I don’t think, that is, I am sure we could play cards instead, right Mary?” Liza turned to Mary. To her surprise she saw, for the first time that night, a light in Mary’s previously dull eyes.

“Oh, yes, could we? I mean, just for a moment. I hate to intrude, but that would be ever so interesting if we could?”

“Well, yes, yes, of course then. Follow me.” Liza led Mary up the stairway. She had a wide grin on her face. Maybe this girl would turn out to be slightly interesting after all.

Balloons - Chapter one

[here is the second 1500 word chunk- remember, this is a work in progress, so be kind! Feedback in the comment sis welcome!. ]

The next afternoon Liza bounded down the stairs two at a time. Liza had lived in the old house since she was a young girl and her parents had been tragically killed. Her Maternal Grandfather, her closest living relative, took her in. Her Grandfather, General Robert XXXXX, had served in his majesty’s army in any number of the empire’s far flung colonies. Although he had started in India, by the time he had rented, shortly before the arrival of Liza, he was stationed in Tanganyia as the head of the British Colonial army of East Africa. Upon his retirement he had purchased a large row house in one of London’s more fashionable neighborhoods. Friends of his had remarked that he bought too large a house, but the General had a large number of artifacts and he devoted many of the rooms of the house to displaying them. Unlike some his friends he did not have very many game trophies, he found the hunt boring and grossly unfair to the animal. He did, however, have a large number of scientific instruments he had collected from around the world. Celestial map making tools from India, precision compasses from Turkey, sea charts from New Zealand and codices from Timbuktu. Liza had a fee run of the large house with its many rooms stuffed with oddities.

Whether these rubbed off on Liza or Liza just came to it by genetics, the little girl who wandered into the large house became a young lady whose passion was tinkering with machines of all types. A few weeks after settling into the house she had asked her Grandfather for a table in which to set up small workshop. The General indulged her, after all he was frankly unsure if young girls were supposed to take machines apart to see how they worked or not. The General had never really given much thought to raising children and sort of assumed they could look after themselves for the most part. So, later, when she would ask for a specific tool or to be allowed to go with the kitchen maid to shop for spare parts, her Grandfather again indulged her.

 

By the time Liza was in her teen years she had blossomed into great beauty, tall, statuesque with a pleasant smile and long light brown hair. Wives of the General’s friends gossiped that it was all for naught however, that the young girls was only interested in machines, not boys. This was, perhaps, unfair, as Liza made many friends who were boys. In fact they were mostly boys. Boys shared her interests in machines, girls usually did not.

But beyond the discussion of mechanics or spring loaded turn keys, Liza was not interested much n boys, or anyone for that matter. She could spend hours in her room / workshop working on a device. It was only at her Grandfather insistence that she would occasionally go to formal parties. She always found them dreadfully boring and was sure to tell her Grandfather this. The General had to agree; he himself had never much liked the social aspects of his job and was glad to see the back of it. He would have allowed her to stay home altogether except that Liza herself found a small group of friends that shard her interests, or would at least let her go on about the latest mechanical marvel for a while before changing the subject on her.

Lately she had taken up an interest in ballooning. Often they used to get around, above the crowded streets of London; she had taken them for granted. Then one day her Grandfather’s Balloon’s gas jet had broken. It was with immense pleasure, and some pride on the part of her Grandfather, that Liza fixed the jet. This led her to examine, and eventually dismantle and rebuild, every aspect of her Grandfather’s balloon sedan. She had even begged him to book a flight on the channel balloon, an immense balloon with a large cabin hanging underneath. This balloon crossed the English Channel on a daily basis in order for Europe to be connected to England. That trip had been a highlight f Liza’s young life, and it whetted her appetite for more travel.

 

It had been a month before the break-in that her Grandfather had received a strange package in the post from a former friend of his. The friend has passed away and had entrusted a large packet of papers to the General. As the General sorted through them he came across a strange document.

The General had read the document over many times over the course of a few days. Finally he had called his Granddaughter into his study and asked her if she would up for a journey by balloon, one that could change the course of history.

Once she had calmed down, Liza agreed whole heartedly, promising to outfit the sedan with all of the latest gadgets and widgets she could find. The general thought this marvelous, but told her that they first had to find a man who lived in the North of England. They would send him an invitation to come down to England and discuss the document in question.

It was at that point that Liza had been allowed to read the document. Her eyes grew wider with each passing moment as she read it.

“Grandfather” she said, her voice almost breathless as she finished reading “This is incredible. Do you suppose it is even remotely true?”

“I do, or at least I believe that what was written down was said by this young man. My colleague was not one to make up stories. But this is why we must speak with this man as soon as possible. If what he said here is true-“

“It would change so much!”

“Yes.”

“When can he come then?”

“Well, I have sent him an invitation just today. I expect we would hear back soon. Meanwhile, we must keep this document very safe. I imagine there are people in this very city who would give a lot to see it.”

“But how will we keep it safe?”

“I will hide it in this study, but in a place no one would ever look. Hmmmm, ah yes!” The General got up from behind his desk and strode over to the large wall of bookcases and picked out a volume whose binding was dark green with golden letter. “Johnson’s Actuary Table for North Cumberland 1856. I cannot imagine a more benign place.”

“Aren’t you being a bit dramatic Grandfather? Do you really think anyone would even bother to look?”

“One never knows…”

 

 

 

So the morning after the break in Liza burst into her Grandfather’s study with a loud bang as she pushed the door open hard enough to make it hit the wall.

“Did we get a reply?” she asked breathlessly.

“I am afraid not” replied a deep baritone voice from behind a copy of the London Times. The man behind the paper, Liza’s Grandfather, hardly moved as he perused the evening paper. He did not seem the least bit disturbed by the sudden and loud appearance of his nineteen year old granddaughter.

“Perhaps he did not get the invitation then? Maybe it was lost in the mail?”

Slowly the old man lowered his newspaper and peered at Liza over pair of half-moon spectacles.

“Young lady, the British postal services does not lose the mail. I can assure that he received our letter.”

“But then why hasn’t he written back?”

“I am sure I do not know. God heaven girl! What are you wearing?” Liza’s grandfather put the paper on his lap and stared at her, his mouth open. Liza tiled her head at him with a question and then looked down at herself. She furrowed her eyebrows. Her work shirt was fairly clean, much cleaner than normal. Only a few oil stains were on it, plus one spectacularly crimson circle where red ink had spilled. Her pants were a different story; they were covered in black marks and dust. She gave them a quick brush, satisfied that all was put right.

“It is 1901 Grandfather; women can wear most anything they want. And you know I’m working Grandfather, I almost have the altimeter fixed too. But, no changing the subject. We don’t have but a few more weeks and if Mr. Micajah William Cogwright doesn’t answer soon-“

“I know, I Know! I am quite aware of the necessity for action young lady. If you like we can buzz out to Crumpleshire tomorrow first thing and call on Mr. Cogwright in person.”

Liza smiled. “Hooray! Thank you Grandfather! I know he’ll say yes. I mean, I think so, don’t you?”

“Yes dear.”

“Can I finish up before supper then?”

“Yes, run along. The bell will ring at eight I am told. Oh! That reminds me, I was not changing the subject. Colonel Thornsberry will be dining with us tonight-“

“Oh do we have to? I could just take a cold plate upstairs.”

“I am sorry you do not find Col. Thornsberry pleasant company young lady.”

“Oh no, it’s not that. It is just that you two will trade old war stories and I will have to sit there with a bemused expression on my face for hours…”

“Well, then you are in luck. I forgot to mention that he will be coming with his sister’s daughter, Mary something. She must be about your age too.”

“Oh, well then.” Liza smiled and bit her lip. She hated to complain, but she also was not looking forward to spending the night trade pleasant small talk with some stuck up socialite either. “I’ll be back down then at eight.” She turned and made a dash up the stairs.

“And dressed in proper clothes!” her Grandfather called after her.

“These are proper clothes!” She called back down.

“Not for a lady!”

“I’m not a lady!” Liza yelled and shut the door to her bedroom behind her.

Her grandfather stood at the landing looking up the stairs, shaking his head.

Prolouge - Balloons

Hi,
OK, so this is it, the start of my Nanowrimo novel (that's National November Writing Month) - I actually started this one last November but go sidetracked around Thanksgiving (long story). SO I am going to try and finish it this year. To spur me on I am going to post daily posting of what I wrote already up on the blog, eventually catching up to what I am writing now. This is a quick and dirty process- which means that what I will post will have plenty of errors, grammar issues and typos. Bear with me.
Thanks
-D H Richards
PS - I need a new name for the novel, 1000 Balloons was already taken ;-)

Prolog

Liza woke in the night with a start. At first she was not sure if she had really heard anything. The window nearest her bed was open to let in the cool night air. So she thought perhaps she had heard a noise from the street. Although her neighborhood was a quiet one, even the best neighborhoods in London in 1901 had their fair share of noise at all hours, whether it was stray cats knocking over cans or even rag pickers going through the dustbins.

She lay still, trying not to breath. She listened for it again. There, a soft thump. It did not sound like it was coming from the street, rather from inside. In the light of the half-moon she could barely see the clock on her worktable. It was 2 in the morning. She doubted her Grandfather was up at this hour, perhaps it was one of the servants, but event that sounded doubtful. She told herself it may have just been something in the house. It was, after all, a fairly old house, built in the early 1800s along a very good street full of similar large row homes. Maybe it was mice or- there is was again!

She got out of bed. If it were her Grandfather, Liza thought, she should make sure he was alright. After all, he was getting older, and she had heard of people falling down in the middle of the night. She would just go down and check at his door, to see if he was ok. She slipped into a pair of pants under her night robe. Her grandfather would no doubt comment on her choice of pants, but she always felt somewhat naked under her night robe. She was keenly aware that at nineteen her body was often the object of stares from men (and women sometimes even). She did not want any of the servants she might run into in the halls to ogle her.

A quietly as she could she opened the bedroom door and went into the hallway. She knew her way around well enough not to need a light, plus the weak moonlight that came in through the windows at the end of the hall was enough to get her to the stairs. She crept down a flight to the second story, being sure to skip the two steps that squeaked. Stop stopped in front of her Grandfather’s door and listened for a moment. She was about to call out when she heard the noise again, this time it was coming distinctly from downstairs on the first floor. It sounded louder, like someone dropping something on thick carpet.

As quickly as she could go quietly she made her way down. She knew where the sound was coming from and her heart was beating rapidly. It was coming from her Grandfather’s study, which meant…

In front of the closed door to the study she steeled herself and then with a coordinated twist of the knob and a push of the door sprang into the room.

There, at the large ornate red oak desk, stood a man dressed all in black, shuffling through piles of paper. He looked up, his face obscured by a black mask. Without waiting Liza raced across the room, but the man had already moved himself and made for the open window on his side of the room. With a fluid grace he launched himself through the open sash in an arched dive and disappeared. By the time Liza got to the sill all she could see was a dark figure racing down the alleyway and hoping over a fence.

She knew if she gave chase or called for help that either way the man would be long gone. She turned around and surveyed the room. Books were pulled from shelves, drawers were emptied out. That must have been what she heard.

Just then the door to the study burst opened again and Rupert, the family’s butler appeared, bleary eyed.

“What on earth!” He exclaimed, but then quickly took in the scene and went over to Liza. “You alright Miss Liza?”

“Yes Rupert, thank you. There was a man in here…”

“A break in?”

“Yes. Is grandfather up?”

“I am now.” A gruff but warm voice said from the doorway. Liza’s Grandfather, Robert XXXXXX stood there. He was a large man, well over 2 meters tall and sturdy stock. In his younger day he, when he was fitter, he cut an imposing figure. He still was imposing, but his soft belly belied too many years of good food and wine and fewer days of hardship. “What happened here?”

“I heard a noise Grandfather, and came down here. I found a man looking through… wait! Do you think he was looking for-“

“Quite possibly!”

“Is it, is it still-?” Liza asked but the General was already striding across the room. He quickly grabbed a book from the shelf and opened it. He face fell into relief.

“Yes, yes, still here. Although, I shall have to move it now. Rupert, how did he manage to get in? I told you explicitly to lock all windows, especially those on the first floor.”

“Yes sir, but it seems that he cut a hole in this one.” Rupert stood by the wind through which the man had tumbled. A large hole had been cut, enabling someone to stick their hand inside and turn the sash lock.

“This is worrisome.”

“Yes Grandfather. I hope we get a response to our letter soon.”

 

“Yes, we should tomorrow in the post…”

November - posting new novel "in progress" thingy

OK- last November I got about halfway (a third?) through a "steampunk" type of novel. In an effort to get more of it done this November I am going to post 1500 word chunks of it up each day in November. I will be writing at the tail end of it as I post the from the front end - the idea being that as I get closer to the end of November I have enough done to continue posting.

One major note- what I will post will be a "raw edit" - pretty much as I write it- not corrected or proofed in an meaningful way. There will be plenty of typos, passive voice and incomplete sentences. But it is a chance to see some of the creative process. At the very least I hope to have something at the end I can go back and edit/correct for eventual publication.

Tune back in Oct 31 as I post the first bit as a teaser.

November - posting new novel "in progress" thingy

OK- last November I got about halfway (a third?) through a "steampunk" type of novel. In an effort to get more of it done this November I am going to post 1500 word chunks of it up each day in November. I will be writing at the tail end of it as I post the from the front end - the idea being that as I get closer to the end of November I have enough done to continue posting.

One major note- what I will post will be a "raw edit" - pretty much as I write it- not corrected or proofed in an meaningful way. There will be plenty of typos, passive voice and incomplete sentences. But it is a chance to see some of the creative process. At the very least I hope to have something at the end I can go back and edit/correct for eventual publication.

Tune back in Oct 31 as I post the first bit as a teaser.

It's a slog- National Novel Writing Month

So only 12 days left (!) and I am not even half way through. I have had a couple of days where I did not write anything and a few were I only did a little. The real issue, however, is that most days I have done under the 1600-1700 daily minimum. Right now my average is around 1200. This means some double down days over Thanksgiving (and hopefully no missed days). Eeeek.
On the plus side the story is still unfolding. It is not great literature (and may never be) but I can see where I can go with this one.
One thing is, after November, I am going to have to do some research into Edwardian England for this thing to hold together. It takes place around 1901.
One more note, so I am 44% of the way done and the big balloon in the picture that inspired me has yet to show up (!)

D H