‘Please tell us what happened in your own time, ma’am.’
Mistress Anna is taking long, deep breaths like I do to centre myself and calm down. The door opens and Francis appears with a tray full of bottles and glasses. He places it on the table, grabs a blue jar, takes out the stopper and waves it under Mistress Anna’s nose. Even from here I get the whiff of rotten eggs. She seems to come back to life though her speech is slow.
‘She knocked on the door. I answered and told her the Master was out. We have a constant plague of visitors here and a woman needs time to digest a book. She said, “Do you not know who I am? Anon, celebrated poet. It is not the Master I seek today but Francis” – her very words. I noted her tone was unusually harsh but it is always her habit to announce herself on arrival. I told her to go away since Master Francis was also taking some air. But she forced her stick through the door and said she was happy to wait. She marched into this room and sat in this chair in her fine silk gown as if she were mistress of the house!’
Francis offers Mistress Anna a glass of what must be gin. She takes a sip, splutters like Grandma does when the pepper soup is too spicy, then continues.
‘I went back up to my room and became engrossed in my reading. Unfortunately, my hearing is far more acute than my sight. I heard footsteps going upstairs on the first floor so was forced to enquire why she thought fit to explore the building uninvited. “I wish to see the Dictionary,” she said. “I have some poetry quotations for Mr Johnson.” I hesitated. Why had she not mentioned this upon arrival? But Mistress Anon is obsessed with the Dictionary and some of the scribes were working upstairs. I allowed her access.’
‘What happened next, Mistress Anna?’ says Francis. I can see he’s enjoying being in control rather than her scolding him all the time.
‘She was upstairs for some time. Then I heard her descending the stairs. I presumed she was going back down to the parlour before taking her leave, so continued my occupation. My book was particularly compelling and I did not welcome a second interruption. However, she seemed to stop mid-flight, between the first and ground floor, which perplexed me, so I left my room and walked down but two steps to see what had caused her to pause. Madam was standing outside the candle cupboard with a bag on her shoulder I had not noticed previously. I opened my mouth to enquire her business when she . . . she . . . vanished in front of my very eyes! All that remained were glittering scraps, as if she had scattered her own ashes after death!
‘Anna, I told myself. You are an educated woman. Apparitions do not exist. I took my broom and discarded the scraps. Then I took to my bed. But when I closed my eyes, the sight of her disappearing haunted me. Were my failing eyes deceiving me or my other senses disarranged? She entered the house but she did not take her leave as mortals do. She disappeared!’
On the word disappeared, Mistress Anna crumples into her chair again, GMT puts the smelling salts under her nose and Francis rushes out of the room and up the stairs. Big Ben and I look at each other, our mouths a capital O. A few seconds later, a strange, strangled cry comes from the landing. Francis! We know what’s happened before he comes back downstairs to tell us:
His marine sandglass has been stolen!
Now it’s Francis’s turn for the smelling salts. He cries so loud the whole of Gough Square must wonder what’s going on. His face is covered with tears and snot and I feel sorry for him. I’m reminded that he may speak like he’s 20 but he’s ten years old and just lost a special present he was only given this morning. No wonder he’s upset.
While GMT looks after him, Big Ben and I have work to do. We walk up the first flight of stairs and see the candle cupboard on our right. We look inside. Just candles. Definitely no sandglass. We’re about to come back downstairs again when something glinting on the carpet catches my eye. A couple of silver sweet wrappers from leap sweets that Mistress Anna must have missed. This is what she meant by glittering scraps. She wouldn’t have recognised it: plastic wasn’t invented then.
‘Evidence,’ I say.
Big Ben nods. ‘Only Anon knew Mr Johnson would give the present TODAY. Apart from us. Unless . . .’
‘Didn’t she mention it when we leapt back to the classroom? She said Mr Johnson was most kind to comfort young Frank.’
‘. . . someone played back the footage from the cameras.’
Of course! The Triple M School cameras. Evil Nine, Anno or Portia could easily have replayed our conversation and found out about the date the sandglass would be given to Francis. Anon announced we were going for tea same date, superior location. Maybe she wanted her sisters to know where we were having tea before we left and made sure she gave them information about the sandglass afterwards?
I put the sweet wrappers in my bag and we go back downstairs. Now we have a problem. We don’t want to leave Mistress Anna and Francis whilst they’re still upset because they might faint like people did in the olden days but we must recover the Glass. It’s as if GMT can read my mind.
‘You guys go get ’em!’ she says, meaning the thief and the thought of it being Anon feels like a punch in the stomach. ‘I’ll stay and look after these two. I got lots of practice from ’68 hangin’ out in fields.’
‘Thanks,’ I say and lower my voice. ‘Give us the location for the building and room we took the Oath. The thief must have gone there first! Remember, the Double M offered a reward for a glimpse of the Glass before it had infinity signs.’
GMT smiles. ‘I’ll text you. You’ll have it by the time you reach the alley.’
We’re going to leap back via the alley near Mr Johnson’s house where we leapt yesterday. Old Meg isn’t there this time. Our coast is clear.
‘BB,’ I say, ‘you don’t think Mistress Anna stole the Glass and made up the story to lay the blame on Anon? Mistress Anna hates Anon. Maybe it’s a trick.’
‘Not sure. Leap now, talk later.’
‘What time and date?’ I say. ‘How do we know when the thief leapt back to?’
‘We don’t,’ says Big Ben. ‘But we left at 5 o’clock on Thursday the 24th of June; let’s leap to 5:01 at The Vicious Circle.’
We check our phones and GMT’s text has come through. We have the location for the building and the room. But we need to be even more specific. This is an undercover operation.
‘Under the table?’ I say.
‘Brilliant!’ says Big Ben.
We sit opposite each other, link hands and concentrate. Under the table has taken on a totally different meaning. It’s not a place of safety; it’s high risk. We’ll be at the heart of The Vicious Circle!
Chapter 17:00
THE UNEXPECTED EXITING OF EIGHT
‘. . . Regrettable but we must always be prepared for the unexpected,’ says Millennia, going into loudspeaker mode. ‘No one ever exits The Vicious Circle.’ Pause. ‘The Vicious Circle exits them.’ Evil Nine!
Big Ben and I are under the table, slightly too close to Millennia for my liking but we didn’t do a bad job. We’re still near the centre. It’s very strange being able to see people’s legs and shoes. I notice that the teens, One and Two, are wearing futuristic trainers that change colour every few seconds, red, amber and green like traffic lights. They’re amazing but I must stop looking in case I get sensory overload. Big Ben clicks the record button on his Chronophone and I give him the thumbs up. We need all the evidence we can get.
‘What of the Glass?’ Meridian’s voice is gravelly as ever yet she sounds more refined than Millennia.
‘Which version?’ says Mr Oily Hair, aka Three.
‘Not this nonentity. It is too new, too perfect. An Anachronism. It does not belong in the present and should never have been stolen from the past.’ Meridian pauses. ‘I refer, Three, to the aged version of the Infinity-Glass. I assume it has been sold. The Vicious Circle awaits its millions.’
‘It is in a safe place, Meridian. My sister—’
‘You have too many sisters and I trust none of them.’
She mus
t mean Anno, Anon and Evil Nine.
‘Silence!’ says Millennia. ‘I called this emergency meeting to inform you of the unexpected exiting of Eight, not to discuss museum objects. Eight proposed their departure this afternoon, directly after the procurement of this . . . infinity-free artefact. It has made my year seeing the Glass purchased by the great Dr Johnson prior to its disfigurement. I paid Eight a generous fee and accepted their decision.’
‘Did they take the money and run or were they,’ Evil Nine clears her throat, ‘forced into the decision?’
‘You did not consult me!’ Meridian has raised her voice.
‘I consulted Grandfather.’
‘He is not an Elder.’
‘Indeed. He is an ANCIENT. That holds more weight.’ Pause. ‘Does anyone else hold any objections?’
There’s silence but a bit of shuffling from One and Two. I do the same. I have lots of experience living under the table from when I was younger but it always made me stiff. Big Ben’s decided to lie down on his back and I don’t blame him. His head was hard up against the wood. But I hope he doesn’t fall asleep and start snoring. That would be a total disaster!
‘Then we must act according to protocol,’ Millennia continues. ‘When a member exits, the remaining members move clockwise to fill the spaces, unless they are under a reprimand or due a promotion. In this case, no one has disgraced themselves; nor has anyone excelled themselves.’
‘With respect, esteemed Millennia,’ says Three, ‘I have timetabled two thefts in one week so I was hoping—’
‘You have done a lot of talking and texting, Three, but taken no risks whatsoever. One does not get promotion for dumping what no one wants in a place no one visits in a year no one leaps to. Nor for having talented family members. There is no substitute for hard work and skill.
‘Which leads me to make the following proposal. After the rotation, we have a vacancy for One. I propose Portia. She is young and has a lot to learn but has proved herself over the years, and this week in particular, to be worthy of The Vicious Circle. Who will second this?’
‘I do, Millennia,’ says Three, soon to be Four.
‘And I,’ says Evil Nine.
‘Any objections?’
‘She shows too much mercy,’ says The Grandfather in his high-low voice. ‘She messed with me mid-job, in her high-flying car!’
‘You shot the wrong girl!’ Evil Nine laughs and laughs and I freeze under the table. If they knew I was here, a few feet away from them, what would they do to me? Evil Nine continues. ‘You should have left it to me.’
‘Your boys failed to fix the 800 metres. Our enemies beat us hollow!’
‘Enough of this dissent. Grandfather, I respect your concern. However, I override it. Rise from your seats, everyone. Let each of you from One to Seven move one space clockwise. I will contact Portia. She has the right to refuse but I don’t think she will, if she’s as wise as I believe her to be.’
There’s a scraping of chairs on the oak-panelled floor and I use that opportunity to rub the pins and needles from my legs. Big Ben stretches, sits up and rubs his eyes. His allergies are playing up again. It’s an old room and probably hasn’t been dusted for weeks. He tips his head back and oh my Chrono, he’s going to sneeze! He goes still as a statue for a couple of seconds then relaxes. Thank goodness, I think.
But then it comes: ATISHOO!
It happens during the second scraping of chairs, when everyone takes their new place round the circle. I hold my breath.
‘What was that?’ Evil Nine.
‘What was what?’ Millennia.
‘I heard a noise. Like a shot.’
‘I heard it too.’ Three, now Four. ‘A shot from the chamber below. Esteemed leader, would you like me to investigate?’
Please don’t, I think, my hands clasped together in prayer. If they find us, we’re dead!
‘I think not,’ says Millennia, ‘unless Grandfather has been doing target practice.’
Several people laugh and then there’s silence.
No one peeps under the table.
No one tells us to come out with our hands above our heads.
We’re safe!
For now.
Portia has arrived and taken her place in the vacant seat. Millennia has given a long welcome speech, going into loudspeaker mode three times. It’s clear Portia isn’t particularly impressed with words. She’s a woman of action.
‘Esteemed leader, what’s my assignment?’
‘To recruit new-millennials. I need talented young people and I need the best. So far, I have both failed and triumphed. The Time Squad is dead; it’s time for the next step of the grand plan. I am not getting any younger.’
She pauses and I imagine several of The Vicious Circle nodding their heads. No one knows how old Millennia is but according to Ama, she’s def over 100!
‘What’s the grand plan?’ says Portia.
‘To form a Leapocracy; government by Leapers. Why be led by Annuals when we can foresee? World leaders can only make predictions: Leapers with The Gift can access the future. We KNOW what will happen.’
Meridian shuffles her feet. ‘What MIGHT happen, Millennia. You know very well the future is not fixed; it is constantly changing, depending on our present actions.’
‘Then we Leapers must act. Seize power and use The Gift to the full!’
‘The future is green—’
‘THE FUTURE IS GREY. The future is in technology: the internet, smartphones, robots.’ I hear the familiar click of a Chronophone being switched on. Millennia’s. ‘Whoever controls technology, controls minds. And whoever controls minds controls the future.’
Millennia’s voice has risen into loudspeaker mode. She sounds properly scary, even worse than when she shouted in my face on last year’s trip. I shudder and Big Ben freezes. It’s wrong to think Leaplings with The Gift should have more power. Other people have amazing gifts, too. Imagine if Millennia ruled the world! Her dream is our nightmare.
‘I get your quest for world domination, esteemed leader,’ says Portia. ‘But if you want me to recruit the best minds, there are too few Leaplings with The Gift in the world. And if I’m targeting teens, fewer still.’
‘Include Annuals.’
‘How? Surely it’s impossible to prove we have The Gift without revealing it? What about the Oath of Secrecy?’
‘BREAK it!’
A hushed silence. No one contradicts Millennia, not even Meridian, but I sense The Vicious Circle are shocked. This is the first time they’re hearing this. Big Ben and I do what-big-eyes at each other under the table. Breaking the Oath to gain power or money or fame is the worst thing a Leapling can do. The same for the few Annuals who’ve sworn it to protect their Leapling relatives, like Ama has for Kwesi. We’ve always been taught if too many Annuals find out about The Gift, no Leapling will be safe. Bad Annuals will exploit us for money. The Vicious Circle is proof of what bad Leaplings can do. I hate to think how much worse it would be with bad Annuals, too.
There’s a long pause before Portia speaks. ‘I’m happy to recruit. But I’ll never break the Oath!’
‘I admire your spirit,’ says Millennia, ‘and your honesty. Welcome to The Vicious Circle. Henceforth you will not be referred to as Portia, but as One.’
‘Thank you, esteemed leader.’
‘And you are permitted to call me Millennia. Your allegiance ceremony will take place next week. But you may commence work immediately. You will find your Chronophone gives you a higher level of access to, for example, the Archives. But not the Treasury or the Anti-Leap.
‘I now declare this meeting closed. Four, I wish you to stay behind to brief One about the ceremony. I am sure you will enjoy exercising your vocal chords, now you have been promoted clockwise. I shall be back in 40 minutes to attend to some business.’
Big Ben stops the recording and I smile even though my whole body aches from being under the table so long. We don’t have precise details of the latest the
ft but we know the original sandglass is on the table above us, we know Eight has exited or BEEN exited and we know all about Millennia’s grand plan! Four and Portia have left the table and are chatting at the edge of the room. It sounds like they’re close to the chamber I leapt to on Monday. It’s quite difficult to hear what they’re saying, like they’re whispering. That’s odd! Why do they need to whisper unless they’re plotting something?
Suddenly they start talking normally again and Four clears his throat.
‘Whoever you are, and I believe I can guess, come out from under the table or suffer the consequences.’
Chapter 18:00
ABOUT TIME
‘To gatecrash The Vicious Circle once was an accident, but twice? That’s a death wish. Do not assume you can leap out of this. I just activated the Anti-Leap. Our esteemed Millennia is far too lax with security.’
Four is right; we can’t leap. We tried from under the table just now and it didn’t work. But Millennia’s laxness did us a favour: it let us leap here in the first place. I narrow my eyes at him.
‘Our friend’s in Do-Time for something he didn’t do. We’re not giving up till he’s free!’ I say. ‘AND one of your members stole a present from a child. Was it Eight?’
‘Who delivered the Infinity-Glass to The Vicious Circle? You did. I was totally fooled at the time but Portia here enlightened me. You know too much of our business. It’s a pity she didn’t run you over outside your school. But knowing your stubbornness, you would still have leapt back to that morning to stop the theft. Unsuccessfully.’
‘Not if I’d been killed,’ I say. ‘But that wasn’t meant to be. You can’t change what’s already happened; you can only change the future and this is how it will be: you in prison, not MC2!’
He winces. ‘Delighted to meet you, Elle, Big Ben. The name is Nano, by the way. I prefer it to Four. Four is the name of a nobody.’
The Time-Thief Page 12