by Jodi Taylor
‘I’m never around long enough to be found. I’m usually running for my life in any century you care to name. He’d have to catch me first.’
A very, very long silence. Rain drummed hard on the roof.
He turned to me and said quietly, ‘I’m a fast runner.’
I couldn’t say it was a surprise. I think on some level I’d known, right from the moment I opened the pod door and seen him standing there. And, I think, he’d known it too. The attraction was still there, even if we were now at different points in our lives.
I said in a whisper, ‘You’d have to be. I’m not easy to catch.’
He prised my mug from my death-grip.
For some reason the temperature inside the pod had risen considerably. I could hardly hear the ongoing storm over the sound of my own heart.
He sat very still. He was a good man. After his previous behaviour, I could see the first move would have to be mine.
I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t do this. God knows what sort of problems this could cause. I should smile and let him down as gently as I could. Before this went any further.
But I’d had no chance to set things straight before he died. If we’d parted on amicable terms … If I’d been able to say goodbye … But I’d had none of that. An uncaring universe had ripped him out of my world and now, as far as I was concerned, this same, uncaring universe could just bloody lump it.
I reached out with a hand that wasn’t steady and touched his cheek. He touched my fingers with his own. Gently. Hesitantly.
I could still stop this. No harm had been done. I could stop this anytime I wanted.
He closed his fingers over mine and dropped his words into the silence.
‘I am on fire with desire for you.’
There was a moment’s stillness and then we crashed together. A locker door swung open and deposited its contents on top of us. The fire axe missed his head by inches.
He kissed me, hard and long and I felt my senses begin to slip. He tasted as he always had. He smelled as he always had. I ran my hands under his T-shirt and, as he always had, he made that tiny sound of surprise as my cold hands touched his hot skin. And, as I always had, I laughed under my breath.
His hands were all over me. Those rough-calloused, working-man’s hands that always surprised me with their gentleness. Touching, exploring, teasing. Awakening feelings I thought were safely buried. I felt the heat begin to build inside me. I couldn’t get enough of him. I was desperate for him.
I have no memory of my clothes coming off. There was just that magical moment when, for the first time, skin touches skin.
The lightstick finally failed and we were in the dark. As if it was a signal, he lowered us to the floor and began to lay himself over me. There was more weight than I was used to and I was already gasping for breath in this thick, heavy, hot darkness. He interlocked our fingers, imprisoning my hands.
‘What are you doing?’
He had difficulty getting the words out. ‘Giving myself a … fighting chance before those … cold hands push me over the edge of … madness.’
There was no reading his face. He was just a dark mass above me.
I caught my breath. The heat, the weight, the darkness. I couldn’t move. A thread of panic …
He pushed his knee between mine. My heart was pounding fit to burst. So was his. His body covered mine. I could feel his mouth on my breast. Oh God …
I might not survive this.
The whisper came out of the darkness. Intimate, painful, unlocking so many memories …
‘Lucy …’
I tried to respond, but speech was beyond me.
I could feel him nudging his way inside, hot and very, very hard. And then he was there.
Intense. Exquisite. Excruciating. Golden pain. I groaned and he echoed the sound. I couldn’t think properly. I couldn’t think at all. I went to push back against him but found instead that I couldn’t move. Not a muscle. I was trapped beneath him. Helpless. In the dark …
That faint thread of panic again …
He pushed himself inside again. A great jolt of current ran through me. Every instinct I possessed was screaming at me to push, to move, to do something to shatter this tangled skein of love, fear, heartbreak, desire, and anguish before it destroyed me.
Somehow, I found breath for words. ‘Leon, I can’t … It’s too much. It’s too intense. Please …’
‘Lucy …’
He slid himself in and out again, leaving chaos everywhere he went.
‘Leon, please …’ but he covered my mouth with his own, hard and demanding. Now I couldn’t move or speak. And running through it all was something I thought long buried. Uncoiling. Responding … I could feel unbearable heat, demanding to be released and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything except lie helpless, drenched with sensations I never knew existed, dancing on that fine line between overwhelming need and overwhelming fear as he moved inside me. The pod turned red and purple and black. He was hot and heavy. Unstoppable as Time. I gasped, crushed his fingers, and begged and sobbed as the precipice drew ever nearer.
Another whisper in the dark …
‘Lucy …’
I was on fire. It was unbearable. It was too much. I could die of this …
‘Lucy … let go. Just let go. I’ve got you …’
I stopped fighting him, sucked in a great breath and tried to let go. To surrender. To open myself up to him. As I had done before …
‘Leon …’
He lifted himself slightly. ‘Come to me …'
I arched up to meet him. We pushed hard against each other. Moving together at last. Feeling each other. Feeling our need. He lifted himself on his arms. His slight change of position changed something else deep inside and, suddenly, I was hurtling headlong into the unknown.
I screamed.
He cried out. Sharply. Driving himself into me. And again. And again. Shouting my name.
And as if that was the signal, my sight exploded in sheets of light and colour and willingly, I let go, and let him take me wherever he wanted.
He fell heavily asleep, emotionally exhausted. I was determined to remain awake. He had all this to come. It was all ahead of him. But for me – this was the last time I would ever see him, ever hold him, ever feel that strong, steady heartbeat which failed him in the end.
Sooner or later, we would have to part. He would go on to great things. I would face the rest of my life alone. No, I wasn’t going to sleep.
When I awoke, he was sitting beside me with a cup of tea. My heart sank. The storm was over. Or had at least subsided sufficiently for him to risk powering up again.
He sat beside me and I leaned against him. He put his arm around me. Neither of us spoke. We would tidy the pod and ourselves. In an hour, we would be gone from here. I was unable to swallow my tea for the lump in my throat. I tried to pull myself together. I’d been given a second chance. I should just be grateful.
He tightened his grip around my shoulders and dropped a kiss in my hair. I snuggled against him. We stayed together for a very long time. Neither of us spoke. There was too much to say and no chance of it being said.
One of us had to make a move. I broke free, picked up my still-damp clothes, and disappeared into the shower. He didn’t join me.
When I emerged, he was dressed and had cleared away the mess. He’d risked opening the door for a few minutes because the pod smelled fresh and clean. I sat at the console and twisted my hair back into its bun. It would have been easier in the toilet, where there was a mirror, but I’d been doing some thinking and I had coordinates to check. While his back was turned, I pulled out my scratchpad and banged them in.
So there we were – two professionals ready to go. Neither of us spoke. I looked at the screen. The scene outside was unrecognisable. Broken trees, branches, foliage, debris, all piled around the base of the cliff. It was easy to see from which direction the wind had been blowing. There’d been a lot of damage d
one out there.
There’d been a lot of damage done in here as well. He had that broken look about him again. God knows how I looked.
He shut the last locker door and sat in the other seat. We both stared out of the screen at a hideously bright, fresh, sparkling morning. A new day in the Cretaceous. A new day for both of us.
He said, ‘Are you ready?’
I nodded. He was going to make this easy.
‘I’ll put you down in the woods. Just by the East Gate.’
‘Thank you.’
The world went white.
I peered out into the late afternoon sunshine. I’d only been gone about an hour.
I got up to go.
He checked the proximity alerts and opened the door. Fresh, woodland air flooded in. We walked to the door and looked out.
I didn’t dare look at him. I could feel him watching me. I was so desperately envious. He had it all ahead of him. I didn’t.
‘Well,’ I said, finally. ‘Nice to have met you, Leon.’
He said nothing.
I put out a hand. ‘And again, thank you.’
He took my hand very slowly in a strong, warm clasp, never taking his eyes from mine. I had to look away.
I thought he was going to speak, but he said nothing.
I took my hand back, drew a deep breath, and, still not looking at him, said, ‘Look after yourself, Leon.’
Just as I was stepping past him … Just when I thought I might be able to do this after all, he said, ‘Come away with me.’
I stopped dead.
‘What did you say?’
‘Come away with me. I don’t want to go back. You don’t have to go back. We have a pod. We can choose somewhere peaceful and quiet and make a life for ourselves. You didn’t think I was going to let you go, did you?’
I’d survived his death by feeling nothing. By shutting down. It’s what I do. And so the huge, hot, jagged pain coming from nowhere just about finished me. I couldn’t speak. Which was just as well, since I would have said yes. I had a brief vision of a life together. Laughing. Loving. No need for me to go back to old age and loneliness. We really could have the rest of our lives together.
I stared at the floor and shook my head.
‘Lucy …’
I shook my head again. I should have died in the Cretaceous. Nothing could be worse than this.
‘Lucy. Please.’
I couldn’t do it to him. I couldn’t deprive him of his future. I had to walk away and take the chance that he would survive this, stay at St Mary’s and – I hate this phrase – fulfil his destiny.
So I shook my head for the third time and stepped out of the pod. Back into my own time.
Without looking back at him, I started across the clearing.
‘Don’t leave me.’
I couldn’t bear the pain in his voice.
I had to do something or he wasn’t going to make it. He’d been at the end of his rope when I met him and I’d just made things even worse.
I turned back to him, clutched at his greens, shook him slightly and said harshly, ‘Listen to me, Leon. Listen to me now, because this is the most important thing you will ever hear. I will always come for you. No matter how bad things seem, I always come for you. Remember that.’
My words rang around the clearing.
For a long time nothing happened. If he’d heard me, the words hadn’t gone in.
He covered my hands with his own and we looked at each other for a long time.
‘You really are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’
And that was the moment I took, pinned over my heart and wore like a badge to the end of my days.
Gently, I took back my hands, walked away, and stood at the edge of the clearing with my back to him. After a long while, I heard the door close.
I turned around and stared at the pod, small and squat at the edge of the clearing. The pod stared back. Nothing happened.
I knew what he was doing. He was watching me through the screen. I put one hand on a tree trunk for support and stared back.
Around me, birds sang and golden sunlight filtered through the trees. Still the pod didn’t move. Neither would I. I wouldn’t leave until he did.
We stared at each other across the clearing.
I woke up. For God’s sake, what did I think I was doing? We could be together. Neither of us ever had to be alone again. Sod the time continuum. Sod History. Sod everything. We were two people who’d suffered enough. Let someone else take the strain. I would do it. I would go with him.
And then, just as I took a step towards the pod, just as I raised my arm to wave, just as I drew a breath to call out, to tell him I’d go with him, that I would be with him for ever, the pod blinked out of existence and I was alone.
The next hour was not good.
The evening shadows were lengthening as I made my way back to St Mary’s, very carefully not thinking about certain things. I’d made the right decision. I’d nearly made the wrong decision and if he turned up right now and asked me again, I’d probably nearly make the wrong decision again. I’ve broken shedloads of rules throughout my life, but never come so close to catastrophe before. And who would ever have thought it would have been at Leon’s instigation? He was – always had been – so quiet, so law-abiding, so conventional …
I woke up.
No, he wasn’t.
He’d helped me cheat in my Outdoor Survival Exam. He’d brought a Maglite to sixteenth-century Edinburgh – which, admittedly, had been a big help, but nevertheless – He’d thrown me across the bonnet of his car and right there and then, in public … And at Troy, he’d tried to break the biggest rule of all. He was quiet, but he was passionate and he’d loved Helios like a son …
I was once in eleventh-century London, observing Westminster Abbey being built and a ten-ton block of stone had dropped out of the sky, missing Peterson and me by inches. I felt exactly the same way now. Something huge had fallen on me. An enormous revelation. How could I ever have missed it?
And now, what was I going to do about it?
I didn’t run, because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I let myself into St Mary’s and, using the backstairs, made my way to my room. My instinct was to get to the pub as soon as possible, but that was ridiculous. I made myself slow down, shower, and change into civvies.
It was a lovely evening and on any other occasion, I would have enjoyed the stroll down to the village.
Reaching The Falconberg Arms, I walked into the bar. There were only a few customers. I got myself a drink and then said to the barmaid, ‘Is Joe in?’
She nodded over her shoulder. ‘In his office, doing his accounts.’
‘Oh.’
‘No, go on in. He always welcomes distractions when he’s struggling with his spreadsheets.’
I walked slowly down the passageway. His door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stood on the threshold.
Joe Nelson was bashing away at a calculator. He looked up.
‘Dr Maxwell – good to see you again. Can I help you? Come in.’
I pushed the door shut behind me, crossed to his desk, and sat down.
‘Hello, Helios.’
Chapter Nineteen
I don’t know how I could ever have missed it.
Joe Nelson. Short, stocky, thick dark hair, Dumbo ears and – for heaven’s sake – that sickle-shaped scar on his cheekbone. Again, I saw Helios, terrified, traumatised, bleeding, arms and legs clamped around Leon, clinging on for dear life. How could I not have seen it?
He put down his pen and pushed his chair back from his desk. Was he getting ready to run for it?
‘Sit tight, Joe,’ I said. ‘Where would you go?’
‘True,’ he said.
We stared at each other for a while.
‘How long have you known?’
‘About thirty-five minutes.’
He regarded me warily. I wondered how much he actually remembered. Did he remember
the shouting? Did he remember what I’d said?
‘What are you going to do now?’
‘Don’t say anything. I’m going to tell you a story.’
He nodded. A good start.
‘All right. Troy is burning.’
He nodded again, but this time not looking at me. He was looking back down the years. Back to another time and another place. We both were.
I relived the scene. Again.
‘I’ve just been rescued by Guthrie. You know I got dragged off with the other Trojan women?’
I was back on the beach again, shuffling towards the ships and surrounded by crying women.
‘Guthrie brought me back to the pod.’ I had a thought. ‘Does he know who you are?’
He shook his head.
‘Does anyone know who you are?’
He shook his head again. I know I’d said don’t speak, but I don’t think he was capable of speech anyway.
‘So Guthrie and I are back in the pod. Peterson’s waiting for us, fretting as usual. We’re getting ourselves together, ready to jump, the door opens, and there’s Leon. With you. Do you remember what happens next?’
Not knowing what was the right thing to say, he said nothing. Now that I knew, I could easily see traces of the boy Helios in the man Joe Nelson. The boy I had played jacks with. And dusty hopscotch. I pushed all that aside.
‘Well, I’ll tell you. I told Chief Farrell to take you back outside and leave you there.’
Silence. On the other side of the door, the world carried on as usual. In here – who knew what was going to happen in here?
‘I told him, as his mission commander, that under no circumstances would I permit you to be taken back with us. I assume that now you know why not. That you know why that was such a dangerous thing for him to do. What the consequences could be?’
He nodded. I don’t know if he’d taken my instruction to heart or whether he genuinely was too scared to speak.
‘He pleaded for you.’ I said, without emotion, hearing Leon’s voice again in my head. Again. ‘He begged. He shouted. Do you remember?’
He nodded again and swallowed hard.
‘He refused to leave you behind. At one point, I wondered if I was going to have to shoot him. Or you.’