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The Time Rip

Page 23

by Alexia James


  Matt narrowed his eyes. “You’re still uncertain then.”

  “They’re rumours for a good reason, and Freya is denying all knowledge at this point.”

  “If Martin followed her here, I think we are going to have to accept that the rumours may well be true.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “Kitter is not going to be happy, and Daniel has his own unique way of dealing with problems like this.”

  “I’ve got a better idea than that.”

  “Oh?” Jeremy raised his eyebrows.

  “Get the kettle on and I’ll run it past you.” Matt settled himself at the table, “Let’s hash out the preliminaries first. What made you originally suspect there’s a time rip here?”

  Jeremy sighed, “I may not have your finesse when it comes to talking to suspects, but I know when I am being lied to.”

  It didn’t take Jeremy long to update Matt on all that had happened. Matt frowned over his coffee, silently processing all he had heard.

  “I have to say, I agree with you. It does sound like it. We have a problem with Martin though. We cannot leave him with the knowledge he has. He is going to make trouble any way you look at it.”

  “Which brings us to your idea.”

  “I think we should give him to Thomas to play with.”

  “How could he help, he doesn’t even work for the firm?”

  Matt shrugged. “Hypnosis.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “Last time I caught up with him and the others down the Green Man, he was telling one of his tall tales about the latest girl he’d chatted up.”

  “Exactly my point. Tall tales.”

  Matt smirked. “What about Daniel? He threatened to leave Thomas to rot in one of his stone rooms if he ever attempted anything like that on him. For Daniel to make threats like that there must be something in it.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “Daniel’s never hesitated with threats or violence.”

  “At least give it a chance. Far better to let Thomas enjoy some mischief than deliver Martin up to Daniel’s mercy.”

  “I can’t see it working. You cannot possibly erase Martin’s knowledge of all that has happened, and what of Freya? She has been intertwined with his life for far too long for that.”

  “We need only erase one or two key facts, add a small suggestion here and there. Then we can deliver Martin back to his home and leave him to get on with his life, none the wiser.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  Matt shrugged, “The result’s the same. You’ll have to give him to Daniel.”

  Chapter 10

  Freya surfaced slowly from sleep, revelling in the clean smelling warmth of the bed, not wanting to wake up, certain from the light on her closed eyelids that her alarm clock would be sounding shortly.

  Her body felt heavy and achy. She wondered idly if she were coming down with a bug, rolled over onto her back and opened her eyes to gaze at the ceiling.

  Her eyes wandered around Jeremy’s bedroom in puzzlement. Memory returned in a sickening rush and she sat up abruptly, gasping. Jeremy had already risen and she was torn between gratitude that she didn’t have to face him right now and embarrassment that he had seen her sleeping.

  Her mind flashed back to the memory of him coming to bed. He had returned hours later when she had already been half-asleep. She had assumed when she climbed into his bed that he would be sleeping in the spare room and had woken up to find him getting in beside her.

  She cringed as she remembered her conversation with him. She had demanded to know why he wasn’t sleeping in the other room. He had laughed and said if she wanted to go down and sleep on the couch then she was welcome, but there was only one bed in this house.

  Before she could think up a suitable retort, he had settled down and was already drifting off. The bed was warm and the dratted couch uncomfortable, so she had grumbled a bit and turned her back on him to sleep.

  She scooted suddenly off the bed, looking about for yesterday’s clothes. Her blouse was okay as it was mostly smocking anyway, but the skirt was beyond help without an iron. Then she noticed a soft cotton skirt hanging over the back of a chair. It was similar to the ones she had seen on the women of Joe’s village. The material was a dark grey and felt cool and heavy. It draped around her figure, only just missing the floor.

  She looked down dubiously. The wooden boards were cold on her feet. She searched out a pair of thick woolly socks from a chest of drawers. They were far too large, but toasty warm and would do for now.

  She found Jeremy in the kitchen. Sunshine had already painted the land with warm colour, but the kitchen was cool; the whitewashed walls looking almost blue.

  She lounged in the doorway, watching him whisking something in a bowl. Then he was turning to fill the kettle, his movements graceful, dark hair tousled as if he couldn’t be bothered with a comb, and a slight shadow on his jaw. Freya realised she had never seen him anything other than clean-shaven and the stubble made her suck in a breath. He was far too good looking.

  His shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms, was un-tucked from trousers that bore an uncanny resemblance to jeans in their cut, although they were clearly not denims.

  She was still annoyed with him for keeping her here though. He had taken advantage of her tiredness by sleeping beside her, but she had to admit it was her own fault for being too tired to care. She could have said she wanted to sleep on the couch and made her escape, but it would have been a rotten drive back up the M4 in the dark.

  When she really thought about it, he had only once come after her. Every other time she had come looking for him. She felt like an addict around him, constantly thinking of the next fix.

  It was just as well he had needed to sleep last night, because if he had wanted something else she wasn’t sure she would have stopped him. She studied his perfect profile. The sudden thought of his kisses had faint colour rushing to her face.

  He turned slightly then, noticed her standing in the doorway, and gave her a warm smile. Freya searched for a distraction before he guessed at where her thoughts were going.

  “What happened to Martin, did you take him back last night? You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

  “Martin is not going to be bothering you again, Freya.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean, is he okay?” Freya feigned annoyance to try to cover her confused feelings.

  “He’s fine, I have taken him home. Fortunately, he has suffered a slight memory lapse. I don’t believe he’ll be bothering you again, but it would be as well for you to stay away from him.”

  “Memory lapse? What—”

  Jeremy chuckled softly and the sound shivered down her spine. “Don’t enquire too closely. Matt came up with a solution that is highly illegal. The less you know of it the better. Just trust me that as long as you stay away from him, he won’t come near you again.” He placed a mug on the table, “Coffee for you.”

  Freya was half-tempted to demand exactly what had happened, but the sound of his gentle laughter made her hesitate. She sat down at the table with a word of thanks and cupped her hands around the mug.

  Having learned of her preference for latte, Jeremy had begun to concoct his own version for her, warming milk on the stove and adding the coffee shot afterwards.

  Freya had lived most of her life taking care of her own needs where possible, knowing that her happiness depended only on herself. The care he took to please her was unsettling. She did not want to need someone.

  He began to make toast and soon the table was cluttered up with breakfast things.

  She watched him whenever she thought he was not looking, wondering when and how she could make her excuses to leave. Not that she even wanted to leave him; it was just that she knew she had to.

  Jeremy looked up from his toast, eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment. “Wondering how soon you can make your escape?”

  She jolted and glared at him. “Stop doing that
.”

  “Stop doing what?”

  “Reading my mind. It’s really unsettling.”

  He looked up at her, a smile playing around his mouth, “I have decided that you need to learn how to play poker.”

  “What? Why?” What was he getting at now?

  He nearly laughed at her baffled expression. “Don’t worry, it’s a fairly easy game to learn. The trick is in keeping your expression from giving away your hand. I think some practise bluffing at cards will help you immensely in keeping your strategies from me. After all, you should at least have a fighting chance.”

  Freya’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Does the word arrogance have any particular meaning for you?”

  He grinned and said, “Perhaps we should discuss the time rip that you have found.”

  Freya stiffened slightly and then forced herself to relax and take another sip of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He laughed at that. A sunny sound that filled the kitchen and his dark eyes with warmth. “That was much better. Freya, you do not have a time device, you said as much last night. Your van is parked the other side of the field in 2008. Therefore the time rip is somewhere in the fields around this house. I understand if you do not know its exact whereabouts, but perhaps you could retrace your steps from last night for me.”

  Freya put her head on one side. “Okay.”

  She had her lies all worked out this morning, and she fully intended to lead Jeremy on a wild goose chase far away from the doorway.

  Breakfast finished, Jeremy stood and held out a hand. He drew her towards the back door. “Just show me where you walked last night. Don’t worry about the rest.”

  They wandered through the yard to the low fence and Freya breathed in the sweet smell of the meadow. It was another beautiful day. The sky unmarred by plane tracks. The air was fresh and clean and Freya ran her hand through the grass at the edge of the field for a moment, forgetting what she was supposed to be doing.

  Looking up, she saw Jeremy watching her with a half smile and quickly set off through the field. Jeremy followed her as she waded through the long grasses. Her ankle length skirt made walking difficult and she stumbled frequently, nearly falling once or twice before he caught her.

  She glanced up and her heart rate accelerated. In the bright sunshine, she could see the colour of his eyes; a rich brown, like dark chocolate. Perhaps her feelings were not as obvious as she had feared though, because he didn’t appear to notice. Merely preventing her from falling and walking with her as if they were old friends. After a while, Freya began to relax with him and allow her thoughts to wander where they would.

  His voice interrupted her: “Have you always wanted to sell flowers, or was it something that you fell into accidentally?”

  Freya pondered the question as she ran her fingers through the long grasses. “Um, I guess it just happened. When I was much younger, one of my girlfriends had an older brother who ran a plant stall at Portobello Road. We’d take the train up there on Saturdays, and buy chips.

  “We’d wander around the market and spent hours just sitting about with this guy and his friend. Mike, I think his name was. He’d get us kids helping out when it was busy and one thing just led to another, I guess.” She grinned up at him after a moment, “I did employ an accountant at one point, to do the books for me. I guess trying to keep them myself wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made.”

  “Oh, they were not that bad. I have seen plenty worse.”

  “Good to know. I spent far too much time doing them, and they wound me up too. I’m glad I gave them to you, now. I can’t imagine doing maths all day for a living. It would drive me nuts. How did you get into it, did you go the university route?”

  “Yes. I was an actuary for a few years after I left education.”

  “So how come you got to go to work in 1908? I mean, it’s a little weird when you think about it. If someone offered me a job selling flowers in 1808 I don’t think I’d want it.”

  “After Black Friday, many things changed considerably in the world. In fact, the financial collapse was the tip of the iceberg. I took a job as a Bounty Hunter to make ends meet, and got involved with a branch of the parent organisation. They were setting up offices throughout time to police the illegal travellers. It is only really criminals and bail jumpers that come back to past eras.”

  “What made you decide to work for them?”

  “My brother, Brett, suggested it. He was working for a charity at the time, an organisation that hunts down missing kids, and crossed paths with the agency I now work for. He tracked a lead down that suggested the kid he was after had been taken back in time.”

  “Did they find the kid?”

  “Yes. Daniel decided to involve himself, took a look at their procedures and decided they all needed a new boss. Him.” Jeremy shrugged.

  Freya paused to assimilate all this. “Does Brett still work for them? Is he time travelling too?”

  “I’m not sure what he’s up to at the moment, but he doesn’t tend to stay anywhere for too long, so I’d be surprised if he’s still tracing lost kids.”

  “And Daniel?”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Daniel is my boss.” He shook his head in disgust and glanced down at Freya who grinned.

  “I can’t imagine time travel being the norm. Don’t you worry that some nutter will go back and try to change things, like go and assassinate some big wig?”

  “History isn’t changeable in that sense, because it’s self correcting. If someone were to go back and murder, let’s say Churchill, then another would simply take his place. The outcome may then have been slightly different. Things may have happened in a different order, slightly better or worse, but make no mistake, it would still have happened more or less the way you know it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Oh the scientists tell us these things, probably on the basis of first hand experience. It’s why no one bothered to go back and stop Black Friday.”

  “Black Friday. Was that like the Wall Street crash or something?”

  “No. It happened in 2099. Some lunatic nuked one of the guardian countries on the exchange. The devastation and backlash cost the world greatly. The long and short of it was that the remaining Governments managed to salvage the situation.

  “They bought out the strongest of the uprising Armies and peace was restored. However, the cost to the common people was horrendous.

  “Your famous old dictators, like Stalin, have nothing on the current Governments, and many people wonder if we would have been better off with the crime networks controlling things. People have very little in the way of freedom of speech or movement now.”

  Jeremy gazed out over the fields as he spoke and Freya stopped walking to stare up at him, watching his expressionless face as he described the grim world to come.

  “So how come everyone doesn’t want to live in the past?”

  “Jeremy shrugged, “Fear of the diseases that were prevalent. The cancers that are unknown and incurable. There are many who place modern day luxuries over issues such as freedom. People are afraid of change and many know nothing of previous eras. They don’t teach history in schools anymore. Only propaganda.”

  “Your family are still there, and you only come back here for your job. What happens when you change jobs or retire?”

  Jeremy ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand. “It is not all bad. My family are happy where they are. Besides, agents and their families are well looked after. They are often offered the opportunity to locate permanently in the past if they wish.”

  “Will you do that? Live here always I mean?”

  “I have considered it. There are pros and cons, of course. We are only a few years away from the World Wars that dominated the first half of this century.”

  Freya sucked in a breath, “I had forgotten about that.”

  “Don’t let it worry you. It is not a situation that will impact on us very
much here.”

  It was Freya’s turn to gaze over the silent fields glowing in sunshine. She imagined planes roaring overhead and bombs dropping.

  Jeremy’s voice brought her attention back to him. “Tell me about your family. Do your parents still live around here?”

  “My parents? Um, yeah, they live in Redhill. Why?”

  He ignored her question and asked another, “Do you see them often?”

  “Not really, we’re not that close. What about you, do you see your family still? I guess it must be difficult if they all live in the twenty-second century.”

  “I come from a large family, five brothers and a sister. I go often to see my parents, sometimes as much as two or three times a month. Although I don’t see all my siblings that frequently. We usually all meet a few times a year to catch up.”

  “Five brothers! You have five brothers.”

  Jeremy smiled at her disbelief. “Naturally they all believe they are far better looking than me, and now and then we dispute this. However, it is my sister, Louise, I feel most sorry for. It cannot be easy for her to have six older brothers. Imagine what she goes through every time she brings a boyfriend home.”

  Freya smiled as she looked down at her hands. They had stopped in the middle of the meadow. She looked at the beauty all around and it struck her that here, in 1908, Nathan was yet to be born. It gave her a strange kind of peace to think that he was not dead here, because he had not yet been conceived.

  Grief struck her a transitory blow and then Jeremy reached for her hand. She looked up feeling connected again. “What are your brother’s names?”

  “Daniel is the oldest at thirty; then we have Brett at twenty-eight. Rory is three years younger; then Seb and Ethan, twins, who are two years younger than me, closest to me in friendship and who I see most of, and finally we have little Louise who has recently turned sixteen.”

  Freya bit her lip. She didn’t know what to do with the chaos of her thoughts. No wonder she had thought Brett was an older version of Jeremy. “You’re twenty-what then?”

  “Twenty-two. An old man compared to you. There are what— four years between us?”

 

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