It was late when at last I climbed the stairs to our bedroom. Lifting the white cotton cover I slid wearily on to my back. Staring at the ceiling, my eyes wide with surprise, I gently moved my hand to rest on my lower abdomen. The baby moved, like the tiny bubbles of the finest champagne dancing deep within me.
The mattress sagged as Simon slid into bed beside me.
“You alright, lass?” he asked, stretching his hand out to find mine.
“I felt the baby.”
“Oh aye?” he said, lifting his hand to rest it on top of mine. “What does it feel like?”
“Bubbles… it feels like hundreds of tiny bubbles twisting in my tummy.”
“Does it hurt?”
I smiled, rolling onto my left side to face him. “It doesn’t hurt,” I said, lowering my head to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Actually, it feels rather nice.”
“If you say so,” he grunted. “I’m not sure I’d like it much, but I’ll take your word for it.”
I laughed quietly. “God bless, Simon,” I said, lifting my head onto his chest.
“Corran?”
“Mm?” I mumbled sleepily.
“Am I forgiven?”
“I’m too tired to fight, Simon.”
“So I am forgiven?”
“I didn’t say that,” I said, laying a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“But you didn’t say I wasn’t either,” he replied, wrapping his arm snugly around me.
******
CHAPTER 5
It was a restless night filled with snap shots of the past, hints of the future and my life’s end. I dreamt that I was a child running freely through the mountains, but growing older with every step. I became tired, weary and weak. I wasn’t an old woman, but youth had long since deserted me. My body burned with fever and a dew of sweat peppered my face. I stumbled in the darkness and fell shaking to the ground. My grandmother’s arms were around me, her voice sweet and tender. I reached out for the dawn, but in my dream I was dying and my mind was preparing me for death.
I awoke with a start. The morning had broken bright and warm, with the sun streaming through the bedroom curtains. I reached out a hand and rested it on my husband’s chest. His eyes blinked lazily open, a smile creasing the side of his lips.
“Good morning, lass.”
My chin quivered as I lowered my head and rested it on his chest.
“Are you alright?” he whispered, in his husky morning voice.
I could hear the beat of his heart, steady and strong. I hesitated and then forced a smile up at him.
“I’m fine, darling. Did you sleep well?”
I wasn’t alright, and although I tried to shake the memory of the dream it hung over me like a suffocating fog.
It was still there in my mind, haunting me - like an ever present ghost, as we made our way through the city toward the shop. Coming through the doors I was surprised to find the previously cluttered counter top cleared.
“What happened to it all?”
“I threw it away.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s rubbish, the lot of it.”
“I was checking every slip, Simon. We can’t just bin it.”
“We can and I have,” he said bluntly.
“And the journal?” I asked.
“It’s safe,” he replied.
“Where would ‘safe’ be?”
“We found this upstairs in Angus’ flat,” he said, ignoring my question.
“What is it?”
“A book…”
“I can see that.”
“Let me finish, lass,” he growled. “It’s a price guide. Most of the items in the shop are listed.”
He dropped the guide on the counter. “Go through the front stock, most of it should be in there. You can price it accordingly.”
“I can, can I?” I snapped. “And what about you?”
“I’ve got a laptop to buy,” he said flippantly.
“A laptop?” I said startled. “You mean one of those tools that Rose has?”
“That’s the idea.”
“What on earth do we want with one of those?” I asked.
“To research the stock items that aren’t in that book.”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Just don’t expect me to use it. I’ve watched Rose on it and I’ll tell you, Simon, I’ve more chance of flying to the moon than making use of one of those things.”
“Don’t worry, Ma. Pa and I have a good idea how to make it work. Rose showed us last night… when you were out.”
“Fine, just keep it away from me,” I said, turning on my heels and heading into the storeroom.
“Where are you going?” Simon’s voice boomed across the room.
“To find something to do, seeing as how you have thrown all the work I was doing in the bin.”
“You’ll not find anything through there suitable for a woman in your condition,” said my husband in a deep dangerous rumble.
“I’m pregnant, Simon. I don’t have a condition.”
“Just stay out of there.”
“Alright, I’ll stay out of the store,” I said, returning to the counter. “But I’d like to know what I’m supposed to do with my time.”
“I told you, research the stock prices in that book.”
“I’d rather buy some clothes,” I mumbled under my breath, not expecting either of them to hear me.
“And you shall, lass, just as soon as we have bought this laptop,” my husband said, closing the door behind him.
A handful of customers came and went. We sold a few things here and there but mostly I spent the day sorting and cataloging the muddle of stock that Angus had acquired. Some of it was vaguely interesting but mostly I grew bored with the task.
Not much changed when Simon and Duncan returned with the laptop. I was all but ignored whilst they explored their new toy. Eventually, frustrated and irritated, I snapped ten pounds from the cash float and went off in search of a coffee.
The city was busy. A frantic bustle of holidaymakers, residents and workers crammed the overcrowded streets. My mind was instantly transported to the first time I had seen York. So much had changed yet in essence nothing had.
I thought about Eilidh and wondered if I had done the right thing, leaving her in the village. She was a farm girl, happiest amongst the green hills and mountains of Scotland. I missed her terribly and was sure my son did too. He hadn’t said as much, but then he had never been one to share his emotions. Could they have had a future? I didn’t know. But I was sure that the girl didn’t belong in a city, nor did she deserve to be hurled through time and imprisoned hundreds of years in the future. Marta would take care of her, of that I was certain.
Lost in a million thoughts, I found myself outside Barley Hall staring up at the building. I heard a familiar voice and turned to see Rose in the gift shop stacking new stock. Her face lit up with a beaming smile when she saw me.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” she chirped.
“Not sure,” I said, making my way into the hall. “I got insanely bored at the shop and went out for a coffee. Somehow I ended up here.”
“Well intentional or not, it’s nice to have some company.”
“Do you want some help?” I asked.
“Yeah, if you want. I’m only putting these souvenirs out and then I’m closing up. You can walk home with me if you’ve no other plans.”
“I doubt Simon and Duncan have even noticed I’ve gone.”
“Well how about I give them a ring and let them know where you are?” Rose suggested.
I was still annoyed with them for ignoring me over the laptop and was half tempted to tell Rose not to bother but instead I just nodded and let her make the call.
“You fancy a Chinese takeaway tonight?” Rose asked, putting the last book on the shelf.
“I’ve never had one, but I’m sure it will be nice,” I replied, grabbing the keys off a hook behind the till.
“You’ll love it. Come
on, then. We’ll get it on the way home,” she said, leading the way out of the Hall.
I turned the key in the lock and slipped them into Rose’s hand.
“Ta,” she said, stuffing them into her purse.
“Have we told you that we used to live here?” I asked quietly.
Rose turned to face me. “No, you never said. Where?”
“In there,” I said, pointing towards the great hall.
“You lived in the great hall?” she asked with clear disbelief.
“No, not in the great hall. You know where the toilets are now?” I asked.
She nodded.
“That was our front room, well, it was our only room downstairs,” I said softly.
“Really?” Rose said. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I don’t know. I guess it just didn’t come up.”
“It must be strange, I mean seeing it now.”
“It is.”
“You know this street hasn’t always been called Grape Lane?” I said, absently staring down the cobbled road.
“Really?”
“When Simon and I were here, you know when Duncan was little, it was Grope Lane.”
“Eww, that sounds horrid,” she said, screwing up her nose. “What on earth inspired them to call it that?”
“I guess it was on account of the nightly activities down there,” I paused, remembering my own encounter on the lane.
“You OK?”
I blinked and shook off the memory. “Sorry, I just remembered something that happened, just down there,” I said nodding my head at the lane.
“Go on then,” Rose said. “You can’t not tell me now.”
“Oh, it’s little or nothing really,” I said, shivering at the memory.
“I’m all ears,” Rose said, taking my hand and leading me into the Slug and Lettuce bar. “I’ll buy us a coffee and you can tell me.”
“Do you know they used to keep pigs down here?”
“Well I kinda guessed, seeing as how it’s called Swinegate,” Rose said, ordering two cappuccinos from the waiter.
“I’ll show you something on the outside wall of this restaurant when we leave,” I said, staring out of the large window onto the cobbled courtyard.
“Cool, but I want to know what you were thinking of just now,” she said, lifting her elbows onto the table and resting her chin in her cupped hands.
“There really isn’t much to tell.”
“Just tell me.”
“Alright, but it’s not as exciting as you think,” I said with an impatient sigh.
The waiter returned with two large round cups of frothy coffee, a delicious looking slice of shortbread balanced to the side of the saucer, and two small jugs of milk.
“Cheers, mate,” Rose said, nodding up at the man.
He smiled down at her. “Give me a shout if you want anything else.”
I lifted the jug of milk and swirled it into the white froth.
“Go on then, Corran.”
“Do you want some?” I said, holding a tube of sugar across the table.
She shook her head. “No, ta.”
Staring down at the cup I sprinkled the sugar onto the coffee. “It was a cold Saturday afternoon,” I began, staring down at the grains of brown sugar nestled in the folds of the froth, “not long before we were due to leave York. I left Simon at home to finish the packing with Duncan and went looking for a pound of cheap mutton. It was getting late when I started to head home, so I took a shortcut through some alleys which brought me out here, on Grape Lane.”
“But it wasn’t called Grape Lane then.”
“No, it wasn’t, and it was a route I usually wouldn’t have taken,” I paused and lifted the cup to my mouth. The coffee was good. “I got into a bit of trouble …” I stopped and stared down at my cup.
“What kind of trouble?” Rose asked.
“A man grabbed me from behind and threw me against the wall of a house. He… well, you know,” I said, trying not to remember too many of the details.
“You were assaulted?” Rose said, wide-eyed.
“I suppose you could call it that, but no, not really, he… errm, he didn’t get a chance to do anything.”
“Why?”
“Because someone came to my rescue.”
“Who?”
“A man.”
“So what did he do, frighten the guy off?”
“He killed him.”
Rose’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened to the size of saucepans, she moved her mouth as if to speak but no sound followed.
“You don’t half attract trouble,” she said, when at last she found her voice.
“I have noticed.”
“So you got attacked by this random guy in a place called Grope Lane and then another random guy shows up and kills the guy who attacked you?”
I nodded. “Something like that.”
“What did Simon say?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
“Why? You must have been beside yourself.”
“I was shaken, pretty scared but…”
“But..?” Rose prompted as I stopped mid sentence.
“He warned me not to tell anyone.”
“So you knew this guy?”
“Well no, I don’t think so.”
“You either knew him or you didn’t.”
“I didn’t know him, he just looked so familiar, yet he wasn’t.”
“Well, what did he look like then?”
“He was tall and tanned, well-dressed but untidy. There was something military about his manner – and he had a scar from one side of his face to the other and only one eye.
“Oh my God! That’s awful. Did he have a patch?”
I shook my head slowly, “No, it was plain for anyone to see. A gaping dark hole where his right eye should have been.”
“Could Simon have known him, from his days as a Redcoat?”
“He might have done I suppose. I don’t know, Rose, it was all so long ago now.”
“So you never told Simon?”
“No.”
“Wow,” Rose said, visibly overwhelmed.
“Come on,” I said, draining my cup, “I’ll show you this thing on the wall outside.”
Once outside the restaurant, I turned around, to face the Slug and Lettuce.
“See that brick?”I asked, pointing to the outside wall of the restaurant.
Rose squinted her eyes against the sun and a frown on her forehead told me she hadn’t seen it.
“Follow the pipe down the wall.”
“I see it,” she squealed, as the brick with the mark of the pig came into view.
“I’ve lived here all my life and I had no idea that was there,” she said, taking my arm and turning to walk up the lane.
“You gonna show me where this guy assaulted you?” she said.
I shook my head. “Forget it, Rose. It happened a long time ago.”
She scrunched up her nose and frowned.
“Then why are you so afraid?”
“What brought you to work at the Hall?” I asked changing the subject.
Rose didn’t answer immediately. She stopped walking and turned to peer through the window of a bridal shop. A young girl stood in front of a mirror clad in her long white gown, the petticoats and skirts swishing against her legs. Exquisite lace adorned the dress from the bodice to the train. Her blond hair fell gracefully to her shoulders and her dark eyes beamed with excitement. I wondered silently if she realized just how beautiful she was. Rose moved her head slowly from the girl and turned to face me.
“Nothing specific, really. The job kinda just happened. I studied to be a nurse when I left school. Then Gran went missing and I lost focus. Mum was gutted when I dropped out of university,” she said, turning back to watch the girl. “For a while I just hung around at home and did nothing. Then one day Mum came home from the city and said I should give the Hall a ring as they were looking for staff.”
“Is that where you met Angus?”
She shook her head and turned to face me. “No, I met Angus when I was student.”
We walked along the river, still swollen and lapping at the banks. The park was full of families with young children running in and out of the trees. We stopped and watched one little boy with an ice cream. He reminded me of Duncan the first time Simon gave him the sugar stick - his little face and hands all covered in sticky sweet goo.
“Corran?”
“Sorry, I was lost in thought,” I said, shaking my memories away.
“You should see a doctor,” Rose said.
“Why? I’m not unwell.”
“Yeah, I know you’re not ill. Just people in this time see a doctor when they’re expecting.”
“Expecting?”
Rose smiled, “You know, up the duff.”
“Oh,” I nodded, wondering how many different words there could be to describe pregnancy.
“Honest, it’s worth seeing a doctor, Corran, I mean, what if something goes wrong?”
“I’ll think about it,” I promised, hoping not to have to.
Before, during, and after our evening meal Simon and Duncan remained glued to the laptop. It was worse than the television and struck me as the most antisocial tool invented by man.
“Is everyone like this with these things?” I asked Rose as we cleared away the plastic containers and rinsed the plates from dinner.
“A lot are, yes.”
“What is the attraction?” I asked.
“Different things for different people,” she said, drying a plate I had just passed her.
“Like…?”
“Well, some guys play games on them. Others use them to keep in touch with people, and most use them for work.”
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