Time After Time

by Wendy Godding

  Suddenly he started, and he jumped to his feet. ‘I have a gift for you, too.’

  He vanished, and appeared moments later with a large, rectangular-shaped gift, which he presented to her. She opened it quickly, curious as to its contents, and could only stare in stunned amazement at her own painting.

  It was the painting she’d done recently of Broadhurst Manor. The sunset was a mass of orange, pink, and red, filtered sunlight shining through the clouds to stroke the landscape with infinite tenderness. God’s fingers.

  Glancing up, Penelope met Heath’s amused expression as he said, ‘I had it framed.’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ she gasped.

  ‘I’m glad you like it,’ he murmured, his warm breath on her ear sending delectable tremors down her spine. ‘I thought it might be something you can take with you. When we leave Broadhurst. To always remind you.’

  For some inexplicable reason, Penelope felt her eyes fill with tears. What is wrong with me today? she wondered abstractly, My emotions are peculiarly disturbed. Brushing away the tears in her eyes, she turned back to the image on canvas. Broadhurst Manor. God’s fingers tenderly comforting the broken land. Despite her happiness, Penelope felt the beginnings of fear sneak into her bones and a sense of sadness sweep across her heart.

  Glancing up, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Sebastian watching her, his eyes filled with an emotion she’d never seen before and couldn’t possibly fathom.

  Chapter Twenty

  Present day

  I woke on Monday morning with a start. Clambering out of bed, I climbed the stairs to the attic and collected my journal, curling up on the armchair, under Gran’s rug. I felt well rested, but there was something that made me alert and anxious, as if the world was different and very wrong.

  Putting pen to paper, I paused as a fresh thought occurred. I searched my mind and memories, my body frozen with shock. Swallowing hard, my heart thudded to a halt as I realised what so unnerved me.

  Sebastian had arrived.

  At last he had a name, a new name of course, one that couldn’t be applied to him in every lifetime and one that meant he was never anticipated. Sebastian. It suited him.

  But now that he was there, in Penelope’s world, it wouldn’t be long before he acted. It was never long. I hoped it was enough time for Penelope and Heath, but the gravestone’s inscription, its date, suggested otherwise. I wished there was some way I could alert Penelope, some way I could get a message to her. But of course that was impossible; her time was two hundred years ago, and what was about to happen, already had.

  A tentative rap on the door interrupted me. ‘Abbie?’

  Quickly, I shoved my journal under the blanket. ‘Come in,’ I called, surprised by how sturdy my voice sounded when my insides were churning like crazy.

  Meredith pushed open the door, glancing around uncertainly. The tiny window allowed in just enough sunlight to brighten the room, but no warmth. ‘I was just checking you’re okay?’

  ‘I slept in.’ I managed a small smile for my aunt.

  ‘Oh. Well, I have to leave for work now. Beth rang and said she would pick you up for school. She rang your cell, didn’t you hear it?’

  I shook my head. My cell phone was next to my bed. ‘Well, I have to run,’ Meredith said, frowning slightly, ‘but we’ll talk more tonight, okay?’

  I nodded, following her out, then returning to my room where I checked my phone. I had taken the journal with me, and I tucked it under a spare fold of carpet in my wardrobe as I listened to my messages. The first was Beth exclaiming about me not answering my phone, asking where had I been all weekend—she’d called and texted all Sunday—and saying that she would pick me up for school, now that her car was fixed.

  The next message was from Marcus. He asked if I wanted a lift to school.

  I grinned. Of course I wanted a lift to school! I quickly texted him ‘yes’ before dialling Beth’s number. We’d barely spoken since my outburst on Friday, and I knew she’d be fretting, especially since I’d left my phone at home all day yesterday. Beth would think I ignored her on purpose, which definitely wasn’t the case.

  I’d just been distracted, that’s all.

  Distracted by Marcus and his lovely smile and warm, crinkle-edged eyes.

  ‘Abbie! Oh my god! Where have you been?’ cried Beth, answering on the first ring. ‘I’ve been calling and calling—I finally had to ring your home number and speak to Meredith. You aren’t still angry at me about going to the Spring dance, are you? Because I told you I had to go, my mum—’

  ‘Its fine,’ I cut her off, ‘really, it’s fine. I don’t care if you go to the Spring dance, and I’m sorry I made such a fuss about it.’

  My rare apology was greeted by stunned silence at the other end of the line. Finally, she spoke. ‘So, o-kay. Where’ve you been? If you weren’t angry with me, then why didn’t you answer your phone? Or at least text me back?’

  ‘Actually, I was out and forgot my phone,’ I confessed.

  ‘Well, where were you?’ demanded Beth. ‘It hasn’t got anything to do with Marcus, has it? Because he was asking an awful lot of questions about you on Saturday night.’ She paused, giggling slightly before continuing. ‘And he wasn’t even being discreet about it. Walked right up to me, with Lilly following, and just started asking about you. When I told him where you were he pretty much left straight away.’

  I flushed with pleasure. ‘What kind of questions?’

  ‘Oh, you know, really obvious ones, like if you have a boyfriend, where you hang out, if you’ve been seeing anyone at all,’ Beth told me. ‘You should’ve seen Lilly’s face! Anyhow—I’ve gotta leave. I’ll see you in ten?’

  ‘Actually,’ I began, ‘I was just ringing to say I won’t need a lift today. Marcus is taking me.’

  A huge pause greeted my announcement before Beth burst out laughing. ‘Oh, this I have to see! Lilly Hamilton is going to absolutely wet her knickers!’

  ‘Beth!’

  ‘Ha-ha,’ she chortled. ‘C’mon, Abbie, you know it! And I bet you can’t wait to rub her face in it.’

  I squirmed, feeling strangely uncomfortable. Two days ago I would have liked nothing better than to do exactly that, but now, well, things were different. Strangely different, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  ‘Anyhow,’ I said hurriedly, ‘I have to run. Marcus will be here soon. I’ll see you at school?’

  ‘Oh, you betcha, baby.’

  I shut my front door at exactly the same time as Marcus shut his. Glancing over at him, I grinned, enjoying the sight of him in his jeans and white t-shirt on this bright, sunny morning. He looked like a glorious angel.

  ‘Hey.’ I bounded across the lawn to greet him, feeling lighter than I had in ages.

  ‘Hey, little pixie girl,’ he said, his voice low and intimate. He reached out and scooped a strand of my white hair back, tucking it behind an ear. I sizzled under the electricity radiating from his fingers. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  Tilting my head, I considered his innocent question. Penelope. Heath. Broadhurst. Sebastian. I realised that, strangely, despite the danger encroaching on Penelope, I had slept well. It was Penelope he threatened, anyhow, not me, I told myself as I pushed from my mind the image of grey eyes watching me at the carnival yesterday.

  ‘Yes. Yes I did,’ I decided, ‘I slept very well. You?’ I added the last part as an afterthought.

  Marcus shrugged, unlocking his car door and holding it open for me. ‘Yeah, I suppose.’ He fell thoughtful. After a moment, he said, ‘Anyhow, you look really pretty today.’

  Huh? I wanted to respond, but didn’t. I looked anything but pretty, I knew that. I’d applied my uniform of black eyeliner and mascara, and had remembered to put all the studs in my ears, which I’d forgotten to do yesterday. But I’d left off the black lipstick, leaving my full lips pale and bare, and naturally quite pink. This was mostly because I wanted Marcus, at some point, to kiss me, and I didn’t think black
lipstick was very enticing. But even forgetting the dark lipstick, I was far from pretty. People like Lilly and Emma, with their shiny hair, Covergirl makeup, and trendy outfits, were pretty. People like me were decidedly un-pretty.

  We drove to school, chatting briefly about yesterday and our classes today, before Marcus pulled the car to a halt beneath a wide, leafy tree.

  ‘I wanted to ask you something yesterday,’ he stammered. ‘Last night, when I dropped you off, you looked a little upset…’

  ‘Yes,’ I acknowledged, not letting thoughts of Sebastian encroach my mind.

  ‘Anyhow,’ he paused. There were kids milling around the car, and the first bell sounded from somewhere in the distance. ‘I just wanted to, er, kiss you?’

  I stared at him. Kiss me. He was asking if he could kiss me. For a moment he looked exactly like Heath Lockwood, and I had to blink to change him back to modern-day Marcus.

  Then I nodded.

  He grinned, leaning towards me, his eyes closing. I responded, steeling myself for the kiss.

  A knock on the window drew us up short—me with a frown, and Marcus with a low, heavy sigh.

  It was a boy in our English class, one of the lemmings who hung out with Lilly and Emma and who had befriended Marcus.

  ‘Hey, Marcus,’ he shouted through Marcus’ closed window. ‘What’s up?’ He shot me a confused look, and I glared at him through the glass.

  Marcus sighed, giving me a small smile before winding down the window. ‘Hey.’

  ‘You coming to class?’

  ‘Yeah, give me a minute.’ Marcus turned back to me and smiled. ‘Raincheck?’

  I nodded, disappointment flooding through me as I wondered, irrationally, if we would get another chance.

  He got out and raced around to open the door for me, providing me with yet another flashback of eighteenth-century manners. He even held my hand as he helped me out. If there had been cars two hundred years ago, then I was sure this was how Heath would have treated Penelope.

  ‘I have science first period,’ he said, ‘What about you?’

  ‘Math.’ I made a face.

  ‘But then we have art,’ he said, his voice light. ‘I’ll see you there.’

  ‘Sure.’ I grinned as we walked side by side into the school, hands clasped together. Beth stared wide-eyed from across the lawn, her mouth hanging open. She would have a million questions for me later.

  As we parted, I watched him go, his broad shoulders and narrow hips strolling away, and I wondered how long it would take him to realise he’d made a very, very big mistake in befriending me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I managed to survive the thousand and one questions Beth fired at me as we made our way to class. She positively buzzed with excitement; the idea of me dating the most popular boy in school thrilled her no end.

  ‘I knew you liked him,’ she kept saying, ‘I knew you thought he was cute! I could tell by the way you kept looking at him—and really, how could you not? He’s perfect!’

  ‘Settle down, Beth,’ I told her, downplaying the situation. ‘No one’s perfect.’

  ‘Well he is—he’s like an angel,’ Beth said, ‘with that perfectly sculptured face.’

  He was pretty perfect looking, I had to admit. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with smouldering eyes and dark hair. The complete opposite to me in every way. I wouldn’t be the only one to think that, either. Everyone was sure to notice what an odd, mismatched couple we were. Not that we were a couple, of course; I was jumping the gun there.

  ‘So what happened?’ Beth pressed.

  ‘He came to Hurricanes on Saturday night,’ I explained. ‘And yesterday we went to the carnival.’

  ‘The one out at the old football field?’ Beth frowned. ‘I heard Lilly and Emma’s crew say they were going. You were lucky you didn’t bump into them.’

  ‘They did go. We saw them, and, believe me, it wasn’t pleasant, but at least Marcus was nice about it.’

  ‘Lilly’s going to give you such a hard time,’ Beth warned. ‘She’ll go out of her way to make your life a misery now.’

  ‘I know it.’ We walked into class, taking our seats in the back corner, out of view of everyone. Laura was there already, doodling in her notebook and looking bored. She perked up, though, when she saw me, immediately firing a thousand and one questions at me, just as Beth had done.

  ‘So are you, like, a couple now?’ she asked. ‘Are you going to start wearing preppy clothes like him? And listening to soft boy bands?’

  I laughed. ‘He doesn’t listen to that kind of music!’ Although the thought struck me that I had no idea what kind of music Marcus listened to. Come to think of it, I really didn’t know that much about him. And yet, in a strange, surreal way, I knew everything about him. I knew he was an early riser, he liked to run, and to read. He loved thrill rides like me, had impeccable manners, loved the feel of the ocean on his skin and in his hair, loved cured ham and pickle, port on a cold winter’s night, hated the smell of coffee, and had a profound interest in the workings of the stars and universe.

  I knew things he hadn’t even told me.

  ‘So, anyhow, are you a couple?’ Laura pushed, not letting me change the topic.

  I shrugged helplessly. I might know lots of things about Marcus (or Heath), but I didn’t know what he was thinking or how he would react to peer pressure now that we were at school. Something tugged at my mind and I felt a trickle of fear, like he had been at this very moment talked out of being with me.

  The teacher entered, and the class grew quiet as he began writing complicated sums on the board. Sitting up straight, I forced myself to focus on the lesson ahead. Math wasn’t my strongest subject, and I had to work hard to maintain my A-grade average.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Laura and Beth passing notes between them and texting covertly on their phones. I frowned, realising I hadn’t even asked about the tragic school dance they’d been forced to attend. Some ‘friend’ I was. First, I bark at them for going in the first place, then I prattle on about myself. Making a mental note of it, I promised myself to ask about the dance at lunchtime. Before they could ask me any more questions.

  By the time the end-of-period bell rang, I felt scattered. I’d had to focus harder than normal to decipher the complicated sums, concentrating on keeping my thoughts fixed on the moment, rather than letting them wander to thoughts of Marcus and his slow grin. Thank goodness my next class was art.

  Coming out of math class, Beth and Laura in tow, I stopped, surprised to find Marcus waiting outside.

  He was leaning against the opposite wall, one leg crossed in front of the other, and he smiled when he saw me. For a moment I felt bad for having doubted his loyalty. Of course he wouldn’t let anyone—least of all the horrible Lilly Hamilton—talk him out of being with me. I should know him better than that.

  It had been two hundred years.

  ‘I thought we could walk together,’ he said almost shyly.

  Laura and Beth exchanged glances before tapping me on the shoulder and saying they would catch me at lunch.

  I made my way to art, Marcus falling into step beside me. He had to shorten his stride to match my much slower pace. Heat emanated from his body as we walked side by side. Though we were distinctly not touching, he impinged on my personal space in a delightful way. I longed to hold his hand, entwine my fingers through his, and feel his large, powerful fingers wrap protectively around mine. But I didn’t want to push it. At least not in public. In that regard, I would wait for him to make the first move.

  ‘Why are you so different?’ he asked lightly as we walked along.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, glancing sideways at him.

  He offered a small smile, the corners of his lips tugging slightly. ‘Nothing. Forget it. Are you working tonight?’

  ‘Yeah, ’til eight,’ I replied as my mind churned over his first question. Why was I so different? Different to what? Different to yesterday, when I’d forgotten
to put on my dark makeup and had donned a pretty dress? Different to last week, when I’d been rude and hostile? Different from this morning? Different from two hundred years ago?

  ‘Maybe I can meet you after?’ he suggested as we entered the art room. ‘And we can go out?’

  I smiled easily. ‘Sure. That would be nice.’

  I went to where my easel stood on the opposite side of the room from Marcus’. His was still positioned near Lilly’s and Emma’s. Trying not to look in their direction, I pulled on my art shirt then began laying out my paints. But the sound of Lilly loudly addressing Marcus caught my attention.

  ‘You and the weird Abbie?’ Lilly’s voice sounded as catty as ever. I cringed. Lilly was never one to shy away from saying whatever was on her mind.

  Marcus mumbled something I couldn’t hear, then Lilly complained in a high, whiney voice. ‘You always do that! Why can’t you just leave her be?’

  I froze. What was Lilly talking about? Marcus had only been there a week. What did he always do?

  The boy standing next to me shot me an odd look, so I began mixing colours, starting to work on the skyline that so perturbed me. At the same time, my ears strained to hear what Marcus was saying to Lilly, but his voice was too low and his words too muted for me to make out.

  ‘Abbie, your sky is coming along brilliantly,’ said Miss Morup behind me. ‘I love the thunderstorm idea.’

  ‘Thunderstorm?’ I blinked, staring at my painting. Above the parsonage, rolling in from the distance, I’d painted dark, ominous clouds that flashed with silver and gold. The parsonage itself was still bathed in sunlight, but the threat from the sinister clouds looming overhead made me shiver. Looking at the painting now, I actually felt a little frightened. I hadn’t even realised what I’d painted. My fingers had moved somehow of their own accord.

  ‘Isn’t that what you intended?’ Miss Morup asked, amused. ‘It looks like a thunderstorm. And it looks like whoever lives in that little English church house doesn’t even know it’s coming.’