A Peace of Time

Time Beans

Dear Chroniclers,

so do you believe in fairy tales?

We're all firm believers in the House of electrofried, and that's why we're about to introduce you to the time-beans.

Where we live

It's good neither to live in the past nor live for the future, but just to live in the time-beans. We've grown them for many years now on the estate and they're best sellers on the vegetable stalls of Little Wittering.

Transformation

You see, the best thing about fairy tales is that they transform how we see life. And, of course, that's exactly what our time-beans do.

Here's one growing now. Shortly, it will fall from the stalk and take root in one of the pastings below. Why not scroll down the page and see where it lands! Rest assured, there will be others to follow.

Streaming

I knew you would get here eventually - I've been watching you ever since you began visiting the House. Not that you seemed to notice me standing by the portal on your way in. No-one ever does, until it's too late.

So have you guessed my name? I'll give you a little clue - cast your mind back to that very first walk along the corridor.

Armoured

"We walk, braille-like, the length of the corridor, careful not to trip inadvertently into one of a series of mounted suits of armour that line the wall."

Tentative steps and a light that beckons toward the end of the corridor. Past silent rows of rusting armour in search of the sound of a tapping type-writer - I slip away into darkness and the noise gets louder as you close in on its source.

Footloose

I see you approach. The sabeton lames of the armoured feet stretch tight across the tips of my toes, set ready to flex. It's hot in here, so hot.

Buried deep within the metal suit I wait patiently for you to appear. The quilted layers of the aketon lining are sweat-stained and bloody from so many encounters before. But I dare not move a muscle.

Until, of course, you arrive ...

Peek-a-boo

I sense your footsteps close by and the visor drops open to reveal a pair of deep-blue Predator sunglasses.

BOO!!

... I grab hold of you and now we're streaming in time.

Life is a Beach

A shadowy figure beckons to us, its hand playing out patterns across the surface of the cold saline water. We're sucked out by the current into a triangulated trench toward the bottom of screenshot and leave the page together, embraced in a metalled armour suit.

We interrupt this pasting

Hello!

It all seems a little Gothic round here, don't you think? And rather confusing, if I may say. I guess that's what you might expect when time starts to stream the wrong way.

I should explain. But first, would you mind holding out your hand.

A simple Borlotti bean

Well caught! Now I guess you want to know what you're holding. Lift it up to the light and take a look. Do you see an oval shaped, pale brown legume?

That's right - it's a Borlotti bean. A rather special Borlotti bean, grown exclusively in the kitchen gardens of the House of electrofried. It has a sweet flavour with a creamy, smooth texture. But may I suggest that instead of tasting it, you dig a small hole in the ground before you.

Yes, just like that. Now plant the bean at the bottom, cover it over with soil and stand well back.

Blossoms

Nothing much happens for a little while. Time is like that - it requires great patience to bring to the boil.

Then a small crack appears in the soil. It spreads rapidly and begins to divide - once, twice, four times then eight. And before we know it, the ground in front of us has fissured and fractalled into a spider-patterned web.

A small shoot appears at the epi-centre. It leaps free into the air and spins round in a gaudy green-leaved waltz that has us both dizzy before we know quite where we are. It's all we can do to hang onto its tendrils as it pushes upward.

Taking hold

The shoot chases toward a triangulated channel in the time-stream and locks on to a medieval armour suit just a few seconds ahead. This suit has a whitened body clasped firm to its metalled breast-plate.

There is no escape! The shoot takes hold of the armoured feet and begins to wrap around. It covers the armour in a green-leafed bower from which blossoms a sweet smelling orange flower. As the metal begins to rust and flake the suit releases its captive cargo.

A portly horologist steps forward, shakes the cold saline spray from his hair and smiles. He has in his hand a magic time-bean.

The confusion of time

We're all very confused!

Those of us who have not visited here before may fail to spot the joins. But there's no getting away from these strange interruptions throughout this pasting. Why do we leap from a darkened corridor to a shadowy figure on the beach, then on once more to a the stalks of a green legume?

And for those who have travelled this path in the past, the shifting sands of time have changed this pasting beyond recognition. On our last visit we were flowing out of a computer screenshot in the cold grasp of a metalled armour suit - but now?

An explanation is required.

The power of fairy tales

Do you believe in fairy tales? They have an uncanny power to transform things so we see them in a different light.

Welcome then to a modern-day fairy tale and shake hands with the time-bean that is the invention of one Master Clesiastes, the keeper of the Horology Factory.

Too confusing by far? Then here are some questions to puzzle over until next time we meet:

• Who greets us as we enter the portal to the House?

• What's the significance of the suit of armour?

• Why do fairy tales have the ability to transform?

• Just who is Master Clesiastes?

Hope to see you soon. And, before you go, here's a present from the horologist who lives here - a time-bean of your very own. Keep it close to hand, just in case you need it to transform something in the future!

A Climb to the Viewing Room

There are some thirty three irregular steps that make up the Tower stairway - they lead to a small, flagged corridor at the end of which is the Viewing Room. Shall we ascend together?

The Eastern Approach

The Tower lies east of the House and to reach it we must walk a gravelled path that leads from the kitchen garden. Let us leave behind the licquorice scent of Florentine fennel and make our way across.

Tread carefully as you go - the gravel will incise sharp reminders of the passage into our well-worn soles!

Gargoyles and butterflies

As we near the entrance to the Tower, we notice its Gothic stonework loom up to greet us. A flying buttress supports the outer wall and a party of silhouetted gargoyles hangs languidly from a mooring-point close to the apex.

They point toward a strange stone tableaux a little further up the buttress. This depicts a bleach of butterflies in pursuit of a stout gentleman. His arms flail wildly as he seeks to avoid their deathly white embrace - two of their number have already taken hold of his eyes.

Another Portal

We recommence our walk.

At the end of the gravelled drive lies a single lancet opening to the Tower. Our way is now barred by an oak door on which is mounted an elaborate metalled door-knocker. It's in the shape of a gargoyle head, similar to those which adorn the buttress overhead. Two white butterflies partially obscure the face - they look, for all the world, like a pair of albino sunglasses.

As we reach out for the door-knocker the butterflies take to the air, leaving two vacant eye-sockets to greet us. These blink, and the door swings open to reveal a high-vaulted Hall within. The Tower bids us enter.

A decision to make

Shall we go in? You look so apprehensive standing by the portal, but there's really nothing to fear - many have travelled this way before.

I can sense you're unsure. I'll leave you a while to decide what to do. If you want to go back, just retrace your steps along the gravel path, no-one need ever know you left the kitchen garden. But if you do decide to go further, then step through the portal and join me.

In the meantime, please excuse me. There's a gentleman who's been waiting patiently outside this door for some time now and I must speak to him for a moment.

A decision made

I'm so glad you chose to venture on. If I were to be honest, there are times when it's quite lonely waiting for someone to enter the Tower. Did you pass my friend on the way in? He says he knows you from way back, but then again, he says that of all my visitors!

So take a good look around while I check if the stairwell is clear.

The Hall of Flowers

The far wall of the Entrance Hall is pierced by a series of mullioned windows - their crossing trefoils and quatrefoils dissect the sunlight into a series of intricate patterns on the floor in front of you. Look up and see the dog-rose motif that decorates the lintel to each window.

As your eyes focus on this motif you're drawn back to a dim memory from an earlier visit to the House - the memory of a walk across a beach. A bitter scent pours from the dog-rose vine, and time becomes a loop as you float into a foaming sea next to the thin bearded man who plays with a laughing baby. He wears a stethoscope around his neck.

And now you're rising up into the air. The dog-rose carries you to the very height of the vaulted ceiling then lets you down in a fall of Autumnal leaves.

The stairway is clear

Please forgive me, I should have warned you about the Hall.

It's a long story involving experiments under the tutelage of Eudor. Unfortunately things went rather badly wrong with the regrettable consequence that time has become a little tangled in there. Best just to step through it and ignore the mess - I'll sort it all out one of these days.

So, if you're ready to proceed - I've checked, and the stairway is now clear.

Vestigial stumps

Four easy steps to begin with. They're so well worn they've become little more than vestigial stumps, but nonetheless they ease our way up to the first level of the Tower.

It's here the staircase begins to turn. Do watch your step; one foot in the wrong place and you may find yourself back in the Hall of Flowers. And we both know what happens there, don't we?!

Round the bend

Easy as you go, now. There are five more steps to negotiate, each one curving a little further into a loose cork-screw.

Do you notice how smooth the walls are? This part of the staircase has been decorated in the finest Penteli marble. The craftsmen who set it in place have done a superb job, don't you think? The marble joins are so close you could be forgiven for thinking the whole thing's been fused together into one enormous slab.

May I suggest we press on - there's still some way to go and I do find this part of the Tower rather chilly.

Catching hold

Five more steps to climb and these are much more substantial fare. You may need to grab hold of the cord that runs the length of the staircase - you'll find it over there.

Now follow me up to ...

The Cage

It's much lighter in this section. There are twelve steps to mount and each is illuminated by a small barred window.

"The Cage", as it's known in the House, is guarded by twelve stained-glass watchmen. They oversee the approach to the final part of the staircase.

Almost there!

Shaken in transit

I must warn you about the last seven steps. Don't rush on ...

Oh dear, too late! Hang on tight, I'm just behind. You see, the last seven steps have an alarming tendency to move quite without warning, especially if there's someone in the Viewing Room.

I do hope you're not too alarmed. Just wait for a second or two and the staircase should stop shaking.

Jolly good! So, now we're almost at the top, would you like to go and see who's there?