Jane Van Dijk

Jane sat up with a start. What had happened. One moment she was blowing her nose at the office and the next, what, well, where the hell was she. She got to her feet. And what the hell was she wearing, as she pulled the layers of her ankle length skirt with her to get her newly boot-shod feet on the floor. Had she blacked out? Was this a dream? She was in a small uncarpeted bedroom where everything was wooden. A chair a vanity table, a wardrobe and the bed... which smelt revolting. She looked at herself in the mirror with a gasp. Her outfit looked so.... old! and she had never worn anything like this before in her life! Quickly she tried the door handle. Thank fuck it was unlocked, and she darted outside onto a small wooden landing that ended in a flight of curved stairs from where downstairs general chat and the sound of a badly played piano could be heard. She dashed down as quickly as she could. The other female patrons wore versions of her outfit or something a little more grand. The men however were in the main part, grubby, unshaven and getting drunk.

What the hell was this? A fancy dress party? Jane decided not to speak to these crazed lunatics and made straight for the front door, whereupon she was met by horses parked outside where she expected rows of hatchbacks and the darkest night she had ever seen. The only light coming from the glow of a few other winfows along the street. Jane turned to go back in and decided to speak to the bar staff. Surely she could get someone to call her a cab. However as she turned, directly in front of her stood a grinning bearded yokel with a wide-brimmed hat. He smiled to reveal more gaps than teeth and said. I'll give you two bits for yer time darlin, and as he swayed to one side, grabbed hold of both of Jane's boobs.

Instinctively, Jane lashed out and slapped him hard across the face causing the yokel to stagger into another patron and his hat to fall off. The second patron spilled some of his beer on the woman he was talking to and turned to the yokel and slugged him hard across the other cheek causing him to pass out instantly on the floor.

"Luck he di'nt shoot ya Zeke!" called the overly made up woman who was spending time with the owner of the right hook.

"You!", cried a small blonde woman in her late thirties, storming towards Jane. "We don't behave like that in this house, and she grabbed Jane's arm and led her towards the door once more. "Get out and don't come back till you can behave yourself proper"!

Disoriented and alone, Jane drifted out into the dark night. She had no purse or phone or money and n oidea what to do. She hadn't even seen a car, let alone a cab or the police. It really did look like she had gone back in time to... when? 19th century at least. That couldn't be right. The weather at least was mild so she wasnt going to freeze to **** she guessed. But this, this. This had to be some elaborate prank didn't it? She couldn't really be back in the 19th century.