Well, Steampunk-Shrunk Towers has had its fair share of, erm, unusual residents over the years, but when we noticed this group of individuals skulking around Clockton-upon-Teas, we were somewhat alarmed.
Henry, who is a relatively fearless and friendly chap popped down to have a word with them.
Alas, conversation was not easy. A combination of strong Italian accents and huge masks stuffed with herbs to fend off infection rendered discussion almost impossible.
Gradually, though, he was able to discover that they have arrived here from a far-off city called Roma, where they have been busily administering care and assistance to victims of a dreadful plague. They commandeered a hot air balloon, in order to offer their particular skills to the people of our country, in this time of need.
Naturally, Henry was keen to inspect their transport, but it seems it has been appropriated by the fourth member of their medical team – one Marco by name – who has travelled on in it to the United States, where he has been hired to provide private medical services.
We could hardly leave the good doctors out in the rain, so they have joined our band of residents.
Certainly they are being most attentive to everyone’s health, although their methods seem to differ quite markedly from those we are used to. We can’t quite understand why, for example, they need to check Sally and Lucy’s temperatures quite so often, nor why they need the ladies to strip down to their underwear in order for this to be done. However I’m pleased to report that we are all very healthy at present, and hope that you are as well.
Imagine our delight, then, when Molly hit upon the idea of opening her Literary Emporium to one of us each day. It is an exceedingly small establishment, so social distancing does not permit more than a single individual to enter the building at any time. Each of us has been issued with a card stamped with the dates for our visits and everyone is thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to peruse the many fascinating volumes available.
Only one thing marred our pleasure. Several upstanding and usually trustworthy members of our community mentioned catching glimpses of a tall, shadowy figure skulking around the Emporium. Rumours abounded as to the identity of this personage. This lockdown seems to make everyone a little jumpier than usual and some had claimed it was a creature conjured up by Dr Kopp, our resident mad scientist, who was recently seen taking an extreme interest in certain passages in the ancient 
“You there! Halt at once and reveal yourself!” I cried, in my most imperious tone, hoping earnestly that he wouldn’t misinterpret my hurried command.
It all started with tea. Hardly surprising – our little hive of fairly pointless but hugely enjoyable industry runs largely on tea most of the time. Not, I hasten to add, the sweetened, milk-infested mud-brown builders’ variety. We are partial to fascinating infusions – green, white, herbal – with 
More tea was imbibed, more empty boxes found, and interesting paint or paper applied to every surface. That clear plastic box in which the tea bags had arrived was pressed into service to make arched windows. Curtain rings, cocktail sticks, drinking straws and various beads were gathered. The extensive stash of adhesive tapes – metallic, decorative, double-sided – was raided. Gradually a rather wonky, rust-toned, multi-towered building emerged.
The town hall of our new urban development was judged a success. Soon more buildings followed and before we knew it, the town of Clockton-upon-Teas started to form.
Just imagine our amazement when the infamous Dr Oskar Kopp and his ‘enhanced’ assistant Bjørn arrived. They had left us several years ago to accompany a reknowned storyteller and share their tales with her audiences. Now, it seems, the good lady is moving to another continent and asked whether she could return these gentlemen and their laboratory to us.
“But what about these small, er, devices of yours?” Mrs S enquired.
The very next day, Mr Coggleford the furniture restorer and young Jasper, his son and apprentice, told us that they intended to follow in Gus’s footsteps and would be taking one of the time machines as well as one of their finest cabinets with them.
She rummaged in her pocket and brought out a rather crumpled envelope. To my surprise, her eyes filled with tears.
“But that means, ma’am, that I’ll have to leave you and the Emporium, and whatever will you do, ma’am, to get the visitors to come and read the books if I’m not there to encourage them?”
Molly clapped her hands in delight and agreed that this was a splendid idea. I then told her I’d found her ladyship’s partly written journal in a dusty corner of Steampunk-Shrunk Towers and asked Molly if she would kindly take it with her, so that Josephine could continue to keep a record of her adventures.
“I’d just persuaded that chap to begin stocking some useful items in his shop,” Hugo told us. “He’s doing spare parts for mechanical arms, steam engine oil, time traveller pills oh, and some rather fine powder that improves one’s hearing quite astonishingly.”
We stared at one another in total astonishment.
Jeremiah scratched his head. “We’re furniture restorers, lad, not house builders. Don’t you think it’s rather a lot for us to take on?”
“I knew you’d love it Pa,” laughed the boy. “Shall we get started?”
Steampunk - Shrunk! 