The Last Beginning

by Lauren James

  > Irrelevant. You asked me to find your parents. I have found one of them for you. You can’t question how I did it.

  “Fine,” she said, exhausted. “What do you think I should do now, then?”

  > Now we’ve found “MATTHEW”, don’t you want to know why he is here?

  “How can I do that? Just ask Matthew what he’s doing here? How he got from 2040 to here?” she said, voice breaking at the thought. “I can’t. It’s too much.”

  > You can, and you will.

  “I want to go home. I’m so bad at this. I couldn’t speak to him − and Katherine isn’t even here!”

  > You can’t go home, not yet. We can’t determine what is happening without new data. When you feel less emotionally vulnerable, you will realize how vital this journey is.

  “All I’m doing is carrying you around, and making a fool of myself. I’m useless. I’m not helping anyone.”

  > CLOVE SUTCLIFFE, you are doing things no human has ever done before. You are groundbreaking. You are unique. Do not cease to function due to inappropriate emotional weakness.

  She reread the message, trying to work out how he could possibly be talking about her, the girl who messed up all her relationships and who couldn’t do anything right.

  “Groundbreaking?” Her voice was disbelieving. She found herself biting anxiously at her fingernails and shoved her hand behind her back.

  > Everyone gets scared. You must not allow it to stop you from being incredible.

  “You’re not my Dumbledore, you don’t get to give me inspiring speeches like that,” she mumbled, brushing away a tear. She wished she could trap her feelings down somewhere deep inside herself where they couldn’t keep leaking out and making her feel things. “But … I’ll stay. For now.”

  > Thank you. I think we’re dealing with something more important than either of us realize.

  “What do you mean? What can be more important than my parents appearing throughout history?”

  > Why they are appearing there. I have been analysing each of the time periods where the subjects appear.

  > I have had my suspicions about it for a long time, but I have been unable to establish any empirical evidence. Now that we know the situation is real, I think I can tell you my conclusion.

  “What suspicions? What are you talking about?”

  > The moments where the subjects appear always seem to be a turning point in history. To put it in more metaphorical terms, “MATTHEW” and “KATHERINE” appear at a split in the landscape of time, when everything could change.

  “What?” Clove pulled out her knitting, unable to stand listening to this without something to focus her energy on.

  > Whenever your parents appear, something important happens which could have led to circumstances shifting dramatically if a few details were adjusted.

  > For example: in the time-landscape 1940, subjects “MATTHEW GALLOWAY” and “KATHERINE FINCHLEY” helped the police catch a murderer at Bletchley Park and saved ALAN TURING’s life.

  Clove’s brain whirred as she realized what Spart was saying. If her parents hadn’t caught the murderer, then Alan Turing might have died. If Alan Turing had died, the Allied war effort would have lost a huge advantage.

  > Your parents helped win World War II.

  “OK,” she said, shakily. “That’s a little incredible.”

  > That’s only one example. In time-landscape 1854, the diary of the British Army commander LORD RAGLAN notes that during a field meeting in the Crimean War, a journalist named “MATTHEW GALLOWAY” and his servant, who turned out to be “KATHERINE FINCHLEY”, raised the alarm about a rocket that was minutes away from hitting them.

  > RAGLAN’s diary states that if the French and British commanding officers hadn’t been alerted, every single one of them would have died during the very first battle of the war. There would have been no one to lead the Allies and they would almost certainly have lost the war.

  “My parents helped to win the Crimean War, too?” Clove swallowed. This was unreal. “What else?”

  > Before we left 2056 I wasn’t able to isolate clear events in each time-landscape. However, an obvious conclusion can be drawn from the data: the subjects made significant contributions which affected the Cold War, the assassination of the American president JOHN F. KENNEDY, as well as World War I and the Napoleonic Wars.

  Spart stopped talking to let Clove process everything. She had never even considered why her parents were placed throughout history – it had been enough that they were. But now it seemed so obvious. They were always present at huge moments, events so big that even Clove − who had never really been interested in history − had heard of them. How had she not realized it sooner?

  “The bacteria,” Clove said, eventually. “When they stopped the bacteria being released, that was them saving the world again.”

  > The events of time-landscape 2039 and 2040 seem to be the latest in a long series of episodes in which the subjects have provided aid to humanity.

  She blew out her breath. “Powerful. And I thought human beings were insignificant in the grand scheme of things.”

  > Apparently these particular human beings are not insignificant. I believe the same can be said of you.

  Clove ignored Spart’s suggestion that she was special. She didn’t understand why he kept saying that. “What about now?” she asked. “What’s happening now? Why are they here?”

  Spart took a second to answer.

  > According to the records, subject “KATHERINE FINCHLEY” died protecting COLONEL DURAND at a meeting during the siege of Carlisle. Subject “MATTHEW GALLOWAY” continued to help support the defence of Carlisle after her death. The subjects sacrificed themselves to help the cause, once again.

  “Why? Why would this time be important to history?”

  > They must have contributed enough to the defence to make sure that England was not defeated during the Uprising.

  “But Matthew’s Scottish,” Clove said. “Why would he help the English?”

  > I presume we will find out imminently.

  It was all so unbelievable. Her parents were superheroes.

  “But how did my parents know to do this stuff?” Clove sighed, and ran her hands through her hair, overwhelmed. She stared down at the screen of the DNA kit, at the record for Matthew Galloway’s criminal history and the words THREAT LEVEL: HIGHEST. “Why is this happening to my parents? What’s so special about them?”

  CHAPTER 19

  Saturday 16 November 1745

  A local woman and volunteer by the name of Katherine Finchley was regrettably killed today in a round of musket fire following a disagreement with the militia, who refused to continue to guard the castle against the Rebels. Her life was given to protect mine, and for that I will never forget her.

  Her companion, Matthew Galloway, who was present at the scene, was unable to save Miss Finchley. He was greatly upset by this, and has scarcely left my side since in an attempt to ensure that her life was not given in vain to our cause.

  I, being equally affected by the loss of the local woman, of course reassured him that I had no intention of surrendering. We must honour her memory. No more innocent blood will be shed.

  Folios/v1/Time-landscape-1745/MS-12

  File note: Diary entry of COLONEL DURAND during the 1745 Jacobite Uprising. The entry concerns subjects “KATHERINE FINCHLEY” and “MATTHEW GALLOWAY”. It was recorded before CLOVE’s arrival in 1745. See Folios/v1/Time-landscape-1745/MS-12-alt for the diary entry as recorded after CLOVE’s visit to 1745

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  When Clove finally went back downstairs after testing Matthew’s DNA, she was relieved to find that he had gone to change into dry clothes. Mrs Samson scolded her for disappearing halfway through making breakfast and put Clove to work in the wash-house doing laundry.

  “Did you find the ingredients which you need for your spell?” Ella asked, as she arrived an hour later with another load of dirty clothes for Clo
ve.

  “I did. It’s all done. Thanks for your help,” Clove said, trying to hide how out of breath she was from the pummelling of undergarments. Barbaric.

  Ella deflated. “I was hoping you would wait for me. I wanted to watch.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Did it work?”

  Clove paused a beat too long before nodding.

  “It worked, but you aren’t happy with the result?” Ella guessed.

  Clove shrugged. “It’s just… I don’t really know what to do now.”

  “I can help with that.” As she spoke, Ella dipped a hand into Clove’s bucket of fresh water and flicked her with it.

  Clove leapt back, but the freezing cold water still splashed her arm. “Hey!” she said, trying to be serious, but she couldn’t help the way her mouth just wanted to smile. She ducked her head, giving in to the urge to grin.

  When she looked back up, Ella’s expression took her by surprise. She looked … awestruck. Like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, when what she was seeing was Clove. Just Clove. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

  “What?” Clove asked, a little defensively.

  “Nothing,” Ella said. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you smile before.” She sounded winded.

  Clove swallowed hard, her laughter dying in her throat. It was true that she had been very stressed recently. But surely she had smiled before? She couldn’t remember, right now, when Ella was looking at her like that.

  Flustered, Clove flicked her hand into the water. Ella skittered away and let out a giggle.

  Clove chased her out of the wash-house and across the lawn. But by the time she had cornered the girl by the kitchen door, all that was left of her attack was two damp palms. She pressed them to either side of Ella’s neck as she tried to squirm away.

  Ella winced at the coldness of the water on her skin. The two girls were standing so close that Clove could see droplets of water clinging to Ella’s collarbone and the goosebumps standing up on her neck. Ella’s cap had come off and her hair was falling out of its bun again, messy spirals curling off in all directions.

  There was a moment when they just stared at each other, breathing in unison. Clove felt like every molecule of her skin was alert and attuned to Ella’s movements. Something had snapped their bickering into a meaningful tension. She parted her lips. If she just leant a little closer, if Ella just tilted her head a little to the right, then—

  Ella stepped back. Then she lifted her arm, holding up Clove’s bucket of water – which she must have grabbed before running out of the wash-house. Clove didn’t have time to react before the water fell through the air in an iridescent arc, splashing Clove right in the chest.

  It was so cold that Clove couldn’t catch her breath to speak, and when she did all that escaped was helpless laughter. “Ella!” she gasped.

  Ella was laughing so hard she nearly fell over. “Yes!” she screeched. “Got you!”

  “I’m soaking wet!” Clove’s bodice was drenched, and her skirts were rapidly darkening as the water spread. “I’m going to throw you in the pond,” Clove threatened, tugging the damp fabric away from her skin.

  Ella only laughed harder. “You look like a drowned cat! All bedraggled and furious.”

  Clove hissed at her, baring her teeth like an angry feline. “If I get a chill and die, it’ll be all your fault.” Clove held a hand to her forehead, letting out an overly long groan of pain, which turned into laughter when Ella jabbed her in the ribs.

  “I think you will recover, Miss Tabbycat,” Ella said. “Especially as the last time you were dying you managed to wander off and escape me.”

  “The salad days,” Clove muttered, sighing to herself and leaning into Ella’s side.

  Ella tightened her arm around Clove’s shoulder.

  * * *

  That evening Clove washed the plates from dinner. Outside, bats swooped: dark shadows that ducked and dived as they caught flies. The kitchen was warmly lit by the glowing fire, and still smelled of the bread Mrs Samson had baked for the next day. Clove put the last plate on the draining board and turned away from the sink. As she did so, she noticed Matthew sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Oh!” Clove said, backing up until she hit the basin. She hadn’t heard him come in.

  “I think you need to tell me who you are, Anise,” Matthew said.

  She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation to come. Then she said, “My name is actually Clove.” She sat down at the kitchen table, brushing her hair away from her face, and tried to sound calm. “Clove Galloway.”

  He frowned, scratching his nose. “We’re related?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  Clove picked at a flake of something crusty on the table. “I’m the daughter of Katherine Finchley.” She watched him carefully, waiting for any sign of recognition on his face. There was none.

  “Who’s that?” He tilted his head, staring at her with a blank expression.

  How could he possibly not know who she was? They’d spent lifetime after lifetime together. “Your wife.”

  He flinched. “What?”

  “You’re going to marry her,” Clove said, staring him right in the eye. “You’re going to marry Katherine Finchley and have a baby. You’re going to call her Clove.”

  “What?” he repeated faintly.

  “I’m your daughter. From the future,” Clove said, leaning forwards on her elbows. “I know you know all of this. You don’t have to pretend you don’t.”

  Matthew leant backwards. “You have gone mad.”

  “I’m not mad. I travelled back in time from the future, so that I could meet you. You must … you must know what’s going on. It’s impossible that you don’t!”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, horrified. “You need to see a physician! There is something wrong with you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me! I travelled through something called a wormhole, which is a kind of gap in the space-time landscape that connects two points in time. It’s made by generating a lot of energy and causing an explosion. It’s—” She stopped. She didn’t need to explain any of this to him. He knew it already, surely. He must do.

  But instead of saying, “Clove, it’s so brilliant to meet you at last,” Matthew stood up. He was pale. For some reason, her words had taken him by surprise. Had he not expected her to talk about time travel?

  “You must know who I am!” Clove said. “You’re Matthew Galloway, my father. In a few weeks, when the city is besieged, you and Katherine will … will sacrifice yourselves in some way to the cause…” She trailed off. Matthew was looking at her as though she was mad.

  “I do not understand anything you are talking about,” Matthew said. “Who is Katherine? What in heavens does the Uprising have to do with me?”

  Clove pulled her watch out of her pocket. “It’s all here. Spart found out all about you and Katherine, and what you do in 1745.” She tapped the screen and it lit up to reveal her locked screen − a selfie of Meg and Clove smiling at the camera. Clove and Matthew watched the large 20:37 tick over to 20:38.

  Matthew dropped back into his seat like his strings had been cut. “What – what is that?” he cried.

  “It’s a computer,” she said. “You must have seen one before.” Why was he being so stubborn about this? Why not just admit that he knew who she was?

  “That device sends people back to the past?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Yes, exactly,” she said, relieved. “Well, a bigger one does, but it’s the same basic idea.”

  A message from Spart popped up on the screen.

  > Hello, MATTHEW.

  “It’s a demon!” Matthew cried. “That thing. It’s taken you under its spell, made you believe its lies. You aren’t from the future − you can’t be. You’re just enchanted.” Before she could stop him, he snatched the watch from her and threw it into the fire, where it fell between two burning logs and di
sappeared into the red-hot embers.

  “No!” Clove cried out. “Don’t!” She reached into the flames with her bare hands. Her mind was blank with panic. She didn’t even notice the pain as the fire burned her. She couldn’t do this without Spart − she wouldn’t last a day!

  Matthew grabbed her elbows and pulled her back before she could rescue the watch. “Let it go,” he said, voice cracking with fear. “Let me help you, Anise − Clove. Whatever your name is. You’re going to be better now. Trust me. That … that demon was possessing you!”

  Her watch glowed white-hot in the flames.

  “Let me go, Dad, please.”

  In shock, he released her. “I’m not your father! Can’t you see how senseless that is? We’re the same age!”

  Clove fell onto the hearth and grabbed the iron poker. She knocked her watch out of the flames, hands trembling. The computer hit the hearth, sparking on the tiles.

  “It had you under its spell,” Matthew repeated. “It had you crazed.”

  “It didn’t,” she sobbed. “You don’t understand.”

  She touched the screen, frantic to see if it was broken, but it was too hot. Without her watch, she was lost. Without it, she couldn’t talk to Spart, or— Oh God. She couldn’t get home! If she didn’t have the watch, she had no way of contacting Spart-in-the-lab in 2056, and so no way of getting back to the future. Clove burst into frustrated tears. She was stuck here for ever.

  For ever.

  “That thing still has hold of you,” Matthew said. “It’s going to kill you. I can see it in your face. You can’t let it control you like this.”

  “You’ve destroyed it already,” Clove said, gasping. She couldn’t seem to stop crying. Her whole body hurt, and she couldn’t draw breath properly. Her chest felt tight, like she was having a heart attack. She pushed out one long breath, drawing it back in as slowly as she could.

  Matthew was still watching her in horror.

  “Can you get me some water?” she asked when she felt a bit steadier.

  “Water will make you ill. I’ll get you some ale.” Matthew fetched some from the pantry.