Cracked Diamonds: Victorian Jewellers: Travelling Towards the Present, #4

By E.M.G Wixley

Step into the mesmerizing world of the late Victorian East End. Johnny Webb and his kin defy the ordinary, blending their craft as jewellers with the tumultuous dance of politics and society. But in this era of upheaval, their extraordinary talents become both a blessing and a curse, casting them into a maelstrom of cosmic conflict.

 

As war rages across both heavens and earth, the lines between past and future blur, plunging our protagonists into a gripping saga of destiny and sacrifice. Who is the enigmatic Maya, beckoning from the depths of dreams? What secrets does Ivan the Russian bear from distant lands? And as fate's dice roll, whose story will end in tragedy, and who's in triumph?

 

In this riveting tale where the threads of time intertwine, brace yourself for a journey that will leave you breathless, teetering on the precipice of the unknown.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.M.G Wixley
• Release date: Mar 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224156122

E.M.G Wixley

Elizabeth Wixley was born in Hertfordshire in the United Kingdom but has moved many times during her childhood. She attended the Camberwell Art School and joined a design studio in Convent Garden. Moving to Bristol, some years later, she worked full time for the Local Education Authority supporting children suffering from emotional and behavioural difficulties, whilst ensuring that the transition into a mainstream school was done in a supportive and nurturing manner. Whilst providing children with a safe haven for learning, she raised two sons as a single parent while studying for a degree in education at the University of the West of England. Her love of fiction started at the age of six when Elizabeth’s grandmother died of cancer and to ensure that the rest of the family was safe, she would spend the nights roaming the house looking for the 'C' monster to make sure that he did not claim any more victims. One sunny bright day, her sister told her that fork lightning would come and strike her down after which she would spend her days hiding in the garage and when she heard that the sun was falling out of the sky, well needless to say, she very seldom ventured out. With trial and error, Elizabeth soon realized to fight her foes, she had to stare them straight in the eye, explore them and conqueror the inner demons in order to stand righteous. This helps fuel her love of horror and the many mysteries of the world. Creating a why and what if scenario that runs prominent in her fascinating fiction. Throughout Elizabeth’s life, creative arts have been her passion whether it is visiting galleries, painting or writing. She enjoys nothing more than sharing a compelling horror story with others and holding the sanity of her readers in the palm of her hand.

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Cracked Diamonds

Victorian Jewellers: Book 4

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THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED to my caring, kind and generous father, who passed on the 26th of October 2021. Go with the angels. My thoughts and heart remain as always with my courageous and creative mother, whom I greatly admire. I would also like to thank my family and friends for all your encouragement and support in my endeavours.

Copyright: Cracked diamonds

victorian jewellers: book 4 of the series travelling towards the present

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, photocopying or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Where real locations have been used, their settings and characters are entirely fictional.

Contents

Chapter One: The Future

Chapter Two: Restraint and Calmness

Chapter Three: Waiting to be Tricked

Chapter Four: Equality of Opportunity

Chapter Five: Our Greatest Prize

Chapter Six: Cracked Diamonds

Chapter Seven: Dagger

Chapter Eight: Courtyard Breakfast

Chapter Nine: The Knife

Chapter Ten: An Illuminated World

Chapter Eleven: Black Sun

Chapter Twelve: Ivan

Chapter Thirteen: A Turn for the Worse

Chapter Fourteen: Separating the Colours of a Rainbow

Chapter Fifteen: The Bicycle

Chapter Sixteen: Peeling Back the Skin

Chapter Seventeen: Memories of Home

Chapter Eighteen: A Question of Sin

Chapter Nineteen: The Possessed

Chapter Twenty: Fear Driven

Chapter Twenty-one: Exorcism

Chapter Twenty-two: Hoisting

Chapter Twenty-three: A Performance Within a Play

Chapter Twenty-four: Waiting Under the Arches

Chapter Twenty-five: The Search

Chapter Twenty-six: Stalking the Dying

Chapter Twenty-seven: Unjust Killings

Chapter Twenty-eight: A Thin Place

Chapter Twenty-nine: Capture

Chapter Thirty: Mourning

Chapter Thirty-one: Rehabilitation

The Future

Chapter One

Noah lay on his bed holding a cold compress against his bruised eye. I’m jealous of others’ happiness and want to fight the world, he said through gritted teeth while wallowing in the anger that bubbled inside. What old-world advice would you give me, mother? he shouted to Eliza, who was always resident within his heart and mind. I want to enjoy the small things again without the shadows.

Don’t nurture the envy of others as it fuels the flames of evil, Eliza whispered. You may choose not to drown in your emotions but instead catch them in a net of hope, take a good look and learn from what you witnessed. Envy, self-hate, and trauma lead to destruction and make good people bad. Be humble, step back, view the bigger picture and focus on creating one beautiful thing every day until you grow to think that you’re good enough for the world.

With the comforting sound of his mother’s words, Noah fell asleep and watched another’s life drama play out.

THE DREAMER WATCHED from afar. In the sombre dawn and the lacerating cold of the Dresden winter, Maya stood in the snow, shivering and chattering her teeth. Her mother, Shira, was beside her with her head bowed, weeping silently. Ice crystals formed on her father Ezra’s moustache, as in disbelief, he searched for his pocket watch, a comforting reminder of stability, until he remembered it had gone. Her elderly grandmother Bubba, with her sunken cheeks and sallow skin, stared bleakly into the ether, holding her younger sister Louisa’s hand tightly. The seven-year-old child whimpered, her body drooped, and yellow and purple bruises were already visible on her face, where she’d been pulled out from under a bed and thrown about like a rag doll. They were all suffering from deep despair and humiliation, jumping every time the dispassionate voices shouted commands and the dogs straining on their leashes growled and bared their teeth.

This was the result of a long list of indignities bestowed upon them, which her father had mostly ignored. I’m a patriotic German with medals from the first war, he would state as he urged them to make the best of things.

Soon, their non-Jewish friends and customers stopped talking to them or visiting their jeweller’s shops. A curfew was inflicted upon them, and Maya’s father had been forced to register property and assets valued at more than 5,000 reichsmarks. Even when his businesses were confiscated under the threat of deportation, and several of his friends had killed themselves, her father remained unable to act. His hope and faith in humanity had delayed their leaving until it was too late. Almost to the last minute, he’d thought someone would come to their aid and rescue them.

Maya had tried to persuade him to consider fleeing and going abroad. Father, they’re saying the Jew’s wealth comes from stealing off the Aryans. They blame us for the country’s defeat during the great war.

They just need to look around as most Jews are desperately poor, especially those in the country, Ezra had replied. We have many non-Jewish friends and families I’ve known for most of my life. Besides, we still have our home.

Father, none of our old friends speak to us – we’re ignored in the street, Maya said in desperation when she was ordered not to attend school. They have been told we’re parasites – non-humans who survive by attaching themselves to respectable citizens and sucking their lifeblood. We should make plans.

I would like you all to know, Ezra said once when they were gathered in the drawing room. I have buried a bag of diamonds and gold under the statue of the angel Michael in the garden. Gold is eternal and never corrodes, fades or dies. If anything was to happen and we were sent to these labour camps, on our return, there would be enough money to start over. We must have faith in God.

At first, it had been a slow decline, and then events happened in quick succession. Rumours had passed from person to person throughout the Jewish community that the Germans were organising the theft of homes and property, but by then, it was too late. That morning, the troops had broken down their door, severing all connection to the previously wonderful life they’d known.

MAYA DREW HER COAT tight around her body and glanced back at their once fine house. Every window had been smashed, and a yellow star painted on the door lying in the mushy snow pointed towards the heavens. Behind the walls, the scale and intensity of the looting was immense. Men shouted and laughed as each one relished the thought of glory and instant wealth and was eager to erase the parasites from existence.

Maya’s gaze turned to the crowd of ordinary German citizens waiting to loot whatever was left behind. The penetration of anti-Semitic ideology had even pierced two of her oldest friends, who’d stuck close right up until she was driven out of school. She watched, and when their eyes met, she saw their mouths twist with contempt. They turned their heads, fearful of being forced into acknowledging they once had a friendship with one of the destroyers of civilised society, violators of their rightful space on Earth.

A soldier passed by carrying Maya’s violin and her empty chair from her bedroom. This was followed by her bed in which Maya wished she could lie content one more time. As it was lifted onto a waiting truck, the air burst with a gun blast. It kept firing. Maya saw a man being chased down the street, followed by a soldier pointing his weapon. The man fell, and the snow turned red. Bubba tried to stifle a blood-curdling cry but couldn’t contain words from stuttering from her numb lips. Sons of the devil.

A soldier marched forward, flashing his white teeth in an evil grimace as savagely as his dog. He pulled her gold-rimmed glasses from her face and, clenching his fist, struck the old lady in the jaw. You people dare to disdain the law of the land, he hissed through gritted teeth. Another word, and you will also be lying dead in the gutter. He stamped on her glasses and walked back to help with the loading of the trucks. Maya helped her grandmother to her feet.

Property was worth more than a Jewish life. Stung with humiliation and clamped in the fist of terror, the family were driven to watch as the plunder continued. The soldiers wanted everyone to witness the state-sanctioned theft. Furniture, paintings, financial documents, clothes, shoes, hats, clocks and even the lowest valued objects, such as crockery and utensils, were taken and placed in many waiting trucks.

FROM HIS VANTAGE POINT of seeing through Maya’s eyes, Noah’s internal vision studied the unique events unfolding. At first, his attention was captured by the futuristic vehicles, the soldiers in their striking uniforms, and the magnificence of the large house whose occupants were surprisingly dressed in rags and appeared starved. However, what engaged his emotions and caused him to weep so profusely in his sleep was when the family were ordered to remove their shoes and drop them into a box. In their place, the soldiers threw them wooden clogs, hard soles with a leather band to keep them on their feet – one size fits all. It was the final act of degradation and humiliation worse than the seizing of their possessions and freedoms. The crowd laughed as the family shuffled towards the cattle truck, unable to keep the wooden layer from slipping off their feet and preventing the biting cold from burning their skin. Nobody could walk in the useless items, and the shuffle was a hideous, demeaning sight. How the audience roared with laughter as if they were attending one of Mary’s shows.

The last thing Noah saw was the sickening, twisted expression of shock and despair on the father’s face, and the final words he heard before waking were from Maya as she stepped up into the truck. One day, I will get my revenge.

NOAH WAS RUSHED ALONG the thundering deep river of darkness and was sent crashing over the waterfall of his nightmare. He struck something hard and unforgiving and awoke with a pain throbbing in his head. He lay like a stone between the warm white sheets while in his core, he sensed much was alive. Please, God, make me forget and stop me from seeing these atrocities, he shouted in his mind. The angry shadows which stalked him at night always caught him unawares. He was afraid of sleeping and, during the day, was too scared to glance behind.

Dripping in sweat, Noah sat up in bed. He clenched his hand into a fist and bit into his knuckles as he turned his mind inwards to examine the dream before it dissolved. It was hard to grasp what he’d witnessed. Who was the girl, and what did she want? Most of all, he feared being forced to enter another future battlefield.

Hearing the wind shaking his windows, he remembered he needed to go next door and help William out with the shop. Looking at the clock, he saw he was late, jumped out of bed and rapidly dressed.

Stepping around the raging fire of his emotions, he opened the front door, went out onto the dusty pavement, and looked up at the grey clouds and smoke scrawling over the sky. It was a dull autumnal morning. Yawning and with a still dreamy mind, he strolled up to the shop next door.

Warily, he entered. The bell rang as though tolling a warning. A large shadow appeared in front of his eyes and then came into focus.

I see you’ve had another drunken fight, his uncle Will said, peering at his bruised and cut lip. Your eyes are bloodshot. You’re not in a fit state to work.

I fell on the pavement, Noah said, noticing the points of pity in the older man’s eyes. His being caught out caused his cheeks to colour, and he bowed his head. He wanted to explain his nightmare to his uncle, but he’d moved beyond talking as the words he had were too small to describe what he’d witnessed and besides, he had yet to understand the nightly occurrences himself.

Your thirst for violence will drive our customers away, Annette said. Noah glanced to the side and saw his aunt standing behind the counter, pushing escaping strands of rippling hair back under her scarf. You’re so lazy and unmotivated you might as well not be here, she continued in a chilly manner.

Noah, to do such fine work, you need to protect your hands, Will interjected as he glanced down at his nephew's bleeding knuckles. With damaged fingers, you’ll achieve nothing.

Noah slouched over to one of the two chairs where customers waited to be served. He flopped down onto the hard surface and sighed. Annette would not understand his struggles to commit to anything, knowing that things could change in an instant. Since arriving back from the other world, he’d lost direction and could find nothing to point the way ahead. Life had lost its flavour and colour. He envied and despised her for her ignorance of the darkness he’d endured.

William needs to speak to you, Annette added sternly, fixing her eyes on Noah. I will make some tea. She flounced out of the room, and William walked towards the other empty chair. They both sat at the dividing table.

Noah glanced over at Will, who wore a facade of contentment, convinced that the course he was taking through life was for the best. If asked, his uncle would claim to be happy as the uneventful nights spent with his nagging wife spun into indifferent days, while Noah viewed their union like holding a fragile glass that, without serious care, would, one day, break. The shop provided him with a refuge where he could escape Annette's intolerable nagging and where he could deny that she had nothing other than a loving heart. It also provided relief from his dark thoughts, a chance to stifle his regrets of not returning to Australia and was where he could build his resolve. His only satisfaction after a busy day was sitting by the fire and dreaming of a happy future yet to be realised, with the prospect of children being the only hope of true joy. Above everything, Noah hated his uncle’s acceptance of the permanence of his situation.

Sorry, I’m late, Noah said quietly, as he didn’t want to create more problems for his uncle.

What’s going on with you, Noah – the drinking and fighting? Will said with genuine concern. You were born into a different world to me with every advantage. You don’t need to be like this.

Noah resisted telling his uncle and friend his deepest thoughts of how he carried around in his head the burden of many deaths and how he was struggling to make sense of the futile nature of existence.

I suppose it makes you feel like a man. Gives you a break from the monotony of life.

You don’t understand. The Gentiles hate us, Noah said, giving Will an easy answer. If we don’t give them a beating, they’ll keep coming back for more. I can’t walk down the street without being jumped.

At your age, I was the same. I didn’t want to follow a stable and predictable path, but you are better than this and me, you’re full of potential.

Is this what you wanted to speak to me about because I promise I’ll avoid the streets if that’s what you want.

That is not so much the issue, William said, lowering his voice. In truth, Annette wishes to play a greater role in the shop – make some changes. From now on, we’ll be closing on the Sabbath, and she will be working with me behind the counter. It will only be for a short while. To give you a chance to straighten yourself out. Your father and I have fought our enemies so you wouldn’t have to.

Many of our good customers are gentiles. I thought we were a good team. That you liked working with me, Noah moaned as the crack beneath him opened. Who will make the watches and design the jewellery?

As you said yourself, bad feelings are emerging, and we think it best to work with our local population. You’re to go to the cooperative.

So, my father can control my every move.

It’s not like that – lives change. I’m a married man now. There is more space and equipment in the workshop and experienced tradesmen on hand to advance your training.

Noah sensed the roots of dread spread under his last remaining secure relationship. He’d thought his uncle had understood him, unlike others he’d never before put pressure on him to be perfect. Previously, he’d given him the space to make mistakes and accepted and expected him to get things wrong. He’d not made an issue of him turning up in less than the best of shapes as he understood he was compelled to follow a tune nobody else could fathom.

Noah abruptly rose and, swallowing back his tears, marched towards the coat stand. He wasn’t going to wait around to be undermined further or to be set up for more failure.

Don’t take it so hard, Noah. We just want you to make the most of every minute of your life and not waste it on nothing.

Leave him, William, Annette said as she walked back into the room. The problem with that boy is he spends too much time in his head and has no respect for anyone else’s feelings. Noah sensed her eyes boring into the back of his neck. Well, William, I think it’s time you dismantle that useless machine and put it in the attic. Noah slammed the door as hard as he could.

Outside, Noah thought about going to speak with his mother but changed his mind when he thought of the burden his sorrows would place on the overworked woman whose daily heroic actions and tender heart put him to shame. Her loving soul was one to be protected at all costs. He thought of his siblings, all younger than he, bright-eyed, content in the arms of their mother, playing innocently and dreaming of a future he already knew would not happen. The only other person he could talk to without fear of judgment was Mary, a fellow teller of fortunes so dark nobody wanted to listen.

A tree in a nearby garden shedding its leaves in the wind sent one swirling at his feet. He bent and picked it up and scrutinised its colours. Its death held an astonishing beauty. A million shades of green splodged or blended beside a rich dark orange of an equal variety of hues. This was unlike the monstrous and tragic slow murders he’d witnessed in his nightmares. There was something