by C J M Naylor
"Does that answer your question child?"
"It does. Thank you Father."
I stood up to leave and reached to slide the door open when the priest spoke up again.
"Child."
"Yes, Father?"
"I'm not sure what trials you are enduring right now, but I will pray for you. But be careful of temptation to do wrong. It will come when we are at our strongest, and our weakest as well."
The idea of temptation frightened me. I did not want to be tempted. I wanted to do good.
"Thank you, Father," I said.
"Go in peace."
The clock tower bells at Big Ben were chiming as I came up to the building. Ian was standing nearby, waiting for me. I was just about to enter the large building when I heard my name being called.
"Abigail!"
I turned around and saw Bridget running up toward me. I began to feel a lump in my throat. I didn't feel like now was the best time to talk to her.
"Did you follow me?" I asked Bridget as she came up to me. My tone was very suspicious, more than I wanted it to be. However, I did not like being followed either.
Bridget looked like I had slapped her across the face.
"Of course, I didn't follow you Abby," she snapped back, "are you saying that you think that is the kind of friendship we have?"
I turned my face away from her and looked back up at the building. Ian was still waiting for me, but he didn't try and come out to see us. I could tell he was trying to be discreet so that Bridget wouldn't see him. I really did not want to deal with this right now. Bridget and I were growing further apart, and the more I wanted to know about myself, the more I had to keep her out of it. But did I have to keep her out of it? Could I trust her?
"Well?"
My thoughts had made me forget where I was for a moment and I turned my head back to look at her.
"No," I said.
"It still sounds like you are accusing me of something," Bridget said.
"No, Bridget, I'm not accusing you! Please stop putting words into my mouth."
"Honestly Abby," Bridget said, "I saw you coming this way so I stopped you. But I feel like you are hiding something from me."
Bridget moved closer and looked me directly into the eyes.
"Please," she whispered, "are you telling me the truth?"
I looked directly into her eyes. I could feel the truth trying to erupt from me, but I forced it down within. I lied to her face.
"Yes. I am telling you the truth. But I have to go now."
I left Bridget standing there and made my way toward the building. Ian was standing there, still slightly hidden so that Bridget could not see him. My thoughts consumed me. What kind of person was I becoming?
Once we were inside, Ian left me in the study with Mathias and then wandered off. Mathias sat at his desk. He was reading over a book. I walked around the study and admired it. The room was very intricate. Designs were etched into the walls of different periods in time. Whoever had built this place, I presumed it was our ancestors and past Timekeepers, had put a lot of thought into it. Mathias finally finished what he was reading and closed the book. I turned to give him my attention.
"So, what are we learning today?" I asked.
"Actually, I thought we'd try something a little different today. Instead of picking a topic and teaching it to you, how about I answer some of your questions."
Finally. There were many questions I wanted to ask him. But then I remembered they were mostly about my mother. I figured those weren't the questions he was talking about. I thought about it for a moment.
"How long does it take to become a Timekeeper?" I asked him, "I mean how long do you usually train someone."
"Timekeeping training itself takes about two years," Mathias answered, "however that is usually for a Timekeeper who was raised learning things as a child. What I have been teaching you so far would be knowledge that most Timekeeping children would be taught all their life before they actually begin the official training. I suspect it will take about three years to train you."
Three years to train. It amazed me there could be that much knowledge to learn.
"Much of the training involves learning the laws, how things work, how things can be abused," Mathias said. "There will also be a lot of history to learn. Time traveling with the Time Line will also take a while to learn. It is not possible to simply learn it once and know it. In order to time travel, you have to do it over and over again. Returning from wherever you travel also takes time. There is also potential learning from other Timekeeper’s that will take time as well."
My next question was a little broader.
"What happens when time stops?"
Mathias gave me a puzzled expression. He clearly was not expecting a question of that magnitude. He answered it anyway however.
"That is quite an interesting question. Obviously I cannot give you a correct answer because it hasn't happened, but I presume it would simply be the end of the world. We cannot continue unless time is moving us forward. Right?"
"Right," I said. At least I thought. Time was a force and we needed it, but what was time. Could we live without it? I assumed the answer was no, but who knew?
I didn't have any more questions. I really wanted to talk to Mathias about myself. I wanted to try and trust him.
"Would you like to go out for a night? With my fiancé and I?" I asked.
Mathias looked taken aback by this question.
"I—I, well, like I said I don't go out much. I appreciate the offer though."
"Well we could have it here," I suggested.
"He cannot come here until you are married, remember?" Mathias said.
"What would happen? Would he drop dead? Surely my mother was allowed in, right?"
"Your mother was allowed in because I was working from a different Headquarters at the time," Mathias said. “My father was here, dying, and I didn't want to be here. She never met him."
I felt a feeling of sadness for Mathias. He didn't want to be here while his father was dying. I wondered what kind of relationship they had.
"We cannot risk your fiancée knowing our secrets about this place," Mathias continued, "until he is bound to you in marriage."
"Well then come out with us. It’s the least you could do."
Mathias stood there silent for a moment. He seemed to be contemplating whether or not he should actually go through with this, and finally he sighed.
"Very well," he said.
I smiled. I figured this should be interesting.
I stood before my bedroom mirror and assessed the situation. I was wearing a short black dress that came down to my knees as well as my black heels. I grabbed a black cardigan to place around my shoulders and made my way down to the hallway.
"You look beautiful!" my mother told me.
My mother and Mrs. Baxter were standing by the front door.
"Woo wee," Mrs. Baxter said in a high tone. "I remember the days when I had a figure like that, I would just let myself go and dance the night away." She began to snap her fingers and shake her hips. My mother's eyes looked like they were going to roll back into her head.
"Alright, Mrs. Baxter," she said, laughing, "can you run into the kitchen and check on Dean?"
Mrs. Baxter nodded and wondered off. She purposely muttered loud enough for us to hear that we were just trying to get rid of her.
I had told my mother I was simply going out with Phillip for the night. He had the same story to ensure she didn't find out the truth. Again, I felt like I was deceiving her, but at the same time, I felt like it was necessary. There was a knock at the door and my mother pulled it open. Phillip stood in the doorway looking very clean-cut in his suit. My mother gave Phillip a hug. We were almost out the door when Mrs. Baxter came running down the hall.
"Now Phillip don't you leave without giving me a kiss!" she said.
"Of course, Mrs. Baxter. I would never leave without kissing you."
Mrs. Baxter
planted a large kiss on Phillip's cheek and pulled him into a hug that lasted longer than it needed to. My mother finally intervened and untangled Mrs. Baxter. Phillip led me outside and opened the car door for me.
"So, we are picking him up at Big Ben?" Phillip asked as he was getting in the car on the driver's side.
"Yes. I told him seven o' clock, so we better get going. It is already a quarter till."
"I hope this goes well."
Phillip had seemed very hesitant about the whole thing. I was too. I only hoped it did go well.
The three of us sat in silence for a while at the restaurant. We had decided to go to Kettner's in Soho. It was my favorite restaurant and also where Phillip had taken us for our first date. We all ordered our drinks and meals and waited in a silence that was thick enough it could be cut with a knife. Finally, Mathias broke the silence by speaking up.
"Do you two have a date set yet?" he asked, after taking a sip of his drink.
"No," Phillip responded, "we were thinking about summer, but I know Abigail wanted to wait a while before we got married."
"Yes. It is probably best she be focused on her studies right now."
I wondered which studies he was referring to.
"How long have you two known each other than?" he asked.
"Two years," Phillip responded. Why was he answering all the questions?
"Not very long at all," Mathias commented.
I couldn't help but give him a questioning look—I don't think he saw it though. How was two years not long? In some relationships, that was too long before waiting to get married.
I was going to say something, but Phillip piped up again before I could.
"How long were you and Abigail's mother together?" Phillip asked.
My body tensed up so fast I felt like someone had slapped me across the face. Why was he asking that? Just because Mathias didn't talk about my mother didn't mean Phillip had to fix it.
Mathias gave Phillip a look and then answered.
"About a year and then we were married."
"Not very long at all," Phillip commented.
Mathias' face went bright red—I knew it was anger—I had seen it before.
"Phillip," I intervened suddenly, "darling...could I have a private word with you?"
I didn't give him a chance to respond. I stood up and pulled him by the arm to the lobby of the restaurant, leaving Mathias brooding in his seat.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"No offense Abigail, but your father is a prick!"
"Phillip, you are a prick."
"Okay, fine, but the guy suddenly wants to act all fatherly and say we haven't been together that long. Ever since you met him he has been the guy teaching you, not loving you. Now he wants to play father, just because I'm here. I'm not having it."
"Forget his intentions. This night is about trust. I want to trust this man. If this is what it takes, we will deal with it. Now let's go."
I pulled him back to the table and we sat down. The meals had arrived and Mathias was staring at his food, but not eating.
"I didn't want to be rude and eat without you," he said. I could sense a bit of sarcasm directed at Phillip.
"Thank you, Mathias," I said.
We all began to eat our meals and Phillip spoke up again once more.
"Abigail tells me I cannot enter your Headquarters until we are married. I quite understand. I'm just wondering why your wife was allowed to enter before your marriage. Abigail said you allowed that?"
I had stopped eating mid bite and stared at Phillip flabbergasted. Why were men so stupid? Seriously, I told him not to do something and he does it anyway.
Mathias gave Phillip a look. If looks could kill, Phillip would be buried already.
"My wife," Mathias said, "was allowed in because we were in our Headquarters in the Tower of London. It is a backup Headquarters we do not use anymore."
My attention was taken off Phillip for a moment.
"Did you say the Tower of London?" I asked.
Mathias was taken aback, and then I understood. He had not meant to say it. He had never told me where the location was before, why would he now? It was one of the many pieces of information about his past, and my mother's past, that he was keeping from me.
"I didn't say anything," Mathias said.
"Really? I'm not stupid Mathias. You didn't mean to tell me. Why don't you want to tell me anything about my mother's past?"
"Abigail, the circumstances surrounding your mother's death are already muddled. I left the place and haven't returned since. What concerns you are your Timekeeper preparations."
"No.” I was livid. Once again, it was about teaching me, instructing me. "I came to you because I wanted to know who I was and where I came from. I wanted to know why my mother left me that night and find out what happened to her. I'm not saying Timekeeping isn't important to me—it is—but what's more important is having a father who cares about me enough to tell me about my mother."
Mathias was angry again. His face was bright red.
"Abigail your mother is dead. She left no information for me about you. She just disappeared and then she was dead. You say I don't tell you anything, but she was a very private woman and there isn't a lot to tell. I have accepted it and have not pursued the reasons why. You shouldn’t either. I'm sorry, but I cannot even begin to understand why you have such an emotional connection to a woman you didn't know."
I stood up. This night was over.
"I invited you out tonight so that Phillip could meet you. So that we could talk about our lives and my mother. I came to you to find myself. Obviously, you have no emotion. I don't trust you at all. I'll see you at class!"
I left the restaurant with Phillip following in my wake. During the drive back to his flat, we exchanged no words. The silence was engulfed by my anger. I realized that I was being irrational and that I wasn’t thinking. I knew that I shouldn’t be continuing to see Mathias, but I needed to know, I had to know, about my biological mother. And if that meant spending my days with someone I didn’t trust, I was going to do it.
I locked myself inside Phillip's bedroom and undid my hair. I let it fall down my back. Then I pulled off my shoes and unzipped my dress. I pulled open Phillip's dresser drawer and found a large shirt and put it on. I then put on his extra pair of pajama pants. I walked back out into the living room and he was in the kitchen putting dishes away.
"I like it," he said, grinning.
"Shut up."
I walked over to the window and pushed it open. It was hot in here.
"What the hell did you say that for?"
"Because you ruined the whole night!" I shouted at him.
"I ruined the night?" Phillip repeated. "How did I ruin the night?"
"You didn't have to provoke him!"
"The guy is a pretentious, self-righteous, and narrow-minded bastard, Abby! What did you want me to do? Sit there and let him talk about us and bring down our relationship just because he is obviously lonely."
There were no words I could say to respond to that. I stood there. My body was shaking with anger. I knew I was probably red in the face. My eyes were burning with tears that I wouldn't allow to fall.
"And please shut the bloody window," Phillip shouted. “It's freezing."
I turned around and pulled the window shut. Phillip walked up to me and pulled me into him. We stood there for a while, him holding me. Only did he let go of me when there was a knock at the door of his flat.
He walked over to the door and peeked out of the peephole and then opened the door. I looked around him, but there was no one there. A note was taped to the door however. He pulled it off and read it and then let it fall to the floor.
"Lock the door behind me," he said. He ran out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him. I didn't have time to say anything. I didn't want to, but I ran ahead and locked the door. I looked down at the note and picked it up. I read it over and once again felt terror within me.<
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I enjoyed throwing her body off the Tower Bridge and letting it hang there like it was trash.
CHAPTER TEN
Phillip was gone for a while, but he returned. He had no luck in finding the person who had left the note. He was furious. He was even considering moving, but I said whoever it was would probably just follow us there.
"I was thinking," I said, changing the subject, "maybe we should go to the Tower of London. I want to try and find the old Headquarters."
"I thought he said it was dangerous," Phillip said.
"It could be, but clearly he relocated because he felt the need to. Maybe there are secrets there? He could be hiding something there and he doesn't want us to know."
"Well what if this person that is following us, follows us there?" Phillip asked. "That wouldn't be good, would it?"
"Phillip if they really wanted something that bad they would've busted through that door," I insisted. "Obviously they didn't. They are leaving these notes for a reason. And don't forget that not all of the notes have been threatening. There are two different people writing notes here and I think one of them is Mathias."
"What? How does that make any sense?"
"You saw the notes too. Who else could it be? I have no idea why he would do it—maybe he's terrible at being social because of being underground all these years and that is his way of communicating in a positive manner, or maybe—"
"Maybe he's the one leaving the threatening notes," Phillip finished. "Alright, fine." He reached up and scratched the back of his head. "Say we do go there. How are you going to find your way in? It isn't just going to be there. We can't just show up at the Tower of London and start looking around."
"I don't know. Maybe we'll get lucky."
Phillip rolled his eyes. "I'll think about it. I'm going to bed. Are you coming?"
I sighed and threw my hands up in frustration.
"I'll sleep on the couch," I said.
"Abigail! Wake up! They are coming!"
My eyes fluttered open. My mother was hovering above me. I could hear the sirens going off outside the house again. We had to get to the bomb shelter. I threw the covers off of me and got up, slipping into my shoes as I did. The house was warm and I was not ready to go out into the cold, freezing night. But we had to get to safety.