Titanic, 1912 by T. L. B. Wood

Author:T. L. B. Wood [Wood, T. L. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947833463
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2019-01-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The train left London early in the morning, as the fog was lifting from the Thames to shroud the rooftops like a damp, white ceiling so dense it blocked the view of the sky. Smoke from countless chimneys combined with the cloying mist to create a seemingly impenetrable wall through which our carriage had pushed on our journey to the train station. Leaving Kings Cross behind, we began the trip towards Suffolk, where the land gently sloped to meet the sea, and the landscape was thick with bogs, marshes and other wetlands.

“Okay, Kipp, what’s up?” I asked as my body rocked back and forth with the motion of the train. We had a first class compartment to ourselves, and both Kipp and Elani were craning their enormous heads to view the countryside as we passed. Small villages dotted the mostly level landscape where a few rolling hills were segmented by thick hedgerows gone dormant from the previous winter.

“There’s a tale of a spectral dog called Black Shuck which is rumored to haunt the eastern coastal regions.” Kipp hopped up on the seat next to me and rested his head in my lap. I was wearing my spare traveling skirt with the matching tweed jacket and a fresh blouse; I’d ditched the bucket hat for the new one I’d purchased. While not as stylish as current trends demanded, I never bothered over minor details involving fashion. Rolling my eyes, I looked at Peter who smiled.

“I thought you’d had enough of ghosts and haints,” I replied teasingly, gently tweaking his big ear for good measure. My jest was met with Kipp’s amber eyes, serious and unblinking, as he stared back.

“I’ve had enough of worrying that the Twelve or others might want to use me. This particular trip is to satisfy my curiosity.” Kipp adjusted his position on the seat, stretching as he did so.

“Which is what?” I asked. I glanced out of the window as our train sped over an elevated trestle, where a gently flowing stream curved beneath, the sunlight flashing off of the surface of the water. A short distance away, a young boy and girl played at the edge of the water, throwing rocks to watch them splash since the weather was still too cool for wading. Now that we’d cleared the big city, the sky, which was free of soot and smoke, was bright blue, lit by a yellow sun that failed to bring any heat to the chilled earth.

“There’s speculation that Arthur Conan Doyle wrote The Hound of the Baskervilles after hearing of the tale of Black Shuck. The image of a large, black, spectral hound has been documented for centuries, crossing the marshes and wetlands, terrorizing the inhabitants,” Kipp intoned dramatically, half closing his eyes as if he was casting a spell upon us.

Elani darted a quick glance at me, not sure if Kipp was purposely building a tale just to frighten us. Slowly, I closed one eye and smiled at her; she was far too naïve and trusting, a result of her youth.

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