The Next Together

by Lauren James

  From: Katherine

  Subject: STOP QUESTIONING MY SCIENTIFIC METHODS YOU ARE A TERRIBLE HUSBAND

  From: Matthew

  Subject: I will be your printer bitch if you bring me coffee

  From Katherine

  Subject: Coffee isn’t the only hot thing waiting for you in my office

  From: Matthew

  Subject: Someone hot? What’s Mick doing in your office? (JOKE JOKE I’M ON MY WAY)

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-159

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-167

  UNIVERSITY OF NOTTINGHAM CAMPUS, ENGLAND, 2039

  Kate read the final diary entry from 2019 while Matt was out getting them a snack. She immediately checked the storage website to see if there were any photos, but the URL led to an error page. The website was defunct – unsurprising, after twenty years. They’d have to find a way to access it somehow, though. Maybe Tom could find a cached version. She sighed, resisting the temptation to send Matt urgent messages until he returned.

  Eventually he appeared, and she burst out, “You need to call Tom right now!”

  “Kate,” he replied, in a long-suffering tone, “do you remember me telling you that I have to be present for the entire conversation? You can’t just filter me in at the end.”

  “Sure, of course,” she said, not really listening. She read him the last diary entry impatiently.

  Matt called Tom.

  Folios/v1/Time-landscape-1745/MS-5

  File note: City of Carlisle during the 1745 Jacobite siege

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  Katherine shivered, wrapping her thin shawl more tightly around her shoulders. It was just before dawn, and there was nothing to see from the castle battlements but a dense white fog, stretching across the countryside. Yawning into her palm, she leant against the wall. It felt strange to be in the castle in her dress, but now that her aunt was gone, there was no longer any reason to dress as a boy. Today she was just another curious bystander, getting in the way of the garrison’s watch. The battlements were lined with others just like her. The citizens of the city, both men and women, who had not run away, were tensely watching for the enemy to appear out of the fog.

  “Tea?” a low voice murmured in her ear, and she jumped, turning to face Matthew.

  “Um,” she said, sounding the height of eloquence. She corrected herself hastily. “I mean, please. Where did you get that?” she asked, accepting the warm tin cup gratefully.

  “I returned to the house. I thought you might be cold.”

  “Thank you, Matthew. You’re very thoughtful.”

  She breathed in the steam rising from the tea and leant close to him. Then she saw how the people near them were staring, and took a step away again. She’d momentarily forgotten that she was dressed as a lady, and that Matthew was her servant. She couldn’t talk to Matthew in the way she was used to. Instead she turned back to look at the fog, hoping for cannon fire, a battle, something, to stop her from embarrassing herself. There was nothing but the harsh sound of crows cawing to each other across the farmland.

  “Did you know,” Katherine said into the quiet, “that Genghis Khan had a special method of scaring the enemy that he used when he laid siege to cities? The first day his army would erect a white tent, which meant that if the city surrendered the inhabitants would be spared. The second day, it was a red tent to show that the men would be slaughtered when they were defeated. The third day – if the city was still being stubborn and holding its defences – they would erect a black tent. The black tent…” Katherine cleared her throat. She was scaring herself. “The black tent meant that everyone would be killed. There would be no mercy.”

  Matthew was silent.

  “I’m sorry. That was less comforting than I expected it to be.”

  “It’s all right. It is better to be prepared.” Matthew shifted, tapping his fingernail against the stone, thinking. “First, the prince will send Durand a message to surrender, saying we won’t be harmed – white tent. Durand then has to calculate how long he thinks he can hold out. He can’t wait for ever, but he can try to defend the city until the army arrives. But I don’t think Durand will go down without a fight. If we don’t surrender, then the Rebels will prepare to attack. After that, the battle commences, and there is no guarantee of safety if the Rebels get into the city. Charlie will let his Highlanders pillage as they see fit – red tent.” He paused. “Sorry, that was not very comforting either. Perhaps I will stop there. It is unlikely Charlie will kill everyone. No black tent.”

  Katherine swallowed nervously, looking out over the fog and desperately trying to catch sight of the army. She knew they were out there, lurking just out of view. She even thought she could hear the echoes of their bagpipes in the distance. All they could do now was wait – and hope that Matthew was right and there would be no black tent.

  Katherine awoke to the sound of cannonfire. She opened her eyes to find herself pressed against Matthew’s shoulder, his arm curled around her. It scared her how right it felt. They were resting against the barricade wall. The townsfolk who hadn’t left the castle for their homes were all sitting on the battlements, and any one of them could turn around and see her sitting like this with a servant. She dislodged Matthew’s arm, flushing, and stood up.

  In the encroaching darkness, it seemed that the Rebels had been trying to approach the city. The castle’s cannon fire, which had woken Katherine, had sent them into retreat. As they returned across the fields, to the river, a victorious chant of the national anthem echoed through the castle. “Lord grant that Marshal Wade, May by thy mighty aid, Victory bring. May he sedition hush and like a torrent rush, Rebellious Scots to crush. God save the king!”

  Katherine and Matthew beamed at each other. The Rebels didn’t dare attack the city.

  An hour later a lone rider came to the city gates. There was dead silence as the rider was given entry. “A farmer has come with a letter from the prince!” came the cry as the message he carried was passed along the battlements from the gates.

  Folios/v1/Time-landscape-1745/MS-6

  It felt like it took an eternity for Durand to make his response, but in reality it was probably only half an hour. Eventually another cannon shot sounded. The message of the cannonfire was clear: We will not surrender. Katherine gave a cheer, proud that her city was standing up against the enemy where others had surrendered.

  Matthew let out a wolf-whistle. “Well, that was to the point.” He was bright with pride, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  Later they walked back to her aunt’s house in silence. Matthew had his head bent down and Katherine paused at the front door uncertainly. The house was dark and silent. They were surrounded by quiet – the whole city seemed deserted, and she was very aware that they were utterly alone, in a way they had never been before. They were unlikely to be interrupted, whatever happened. She drew in a stuttering breath, and said, “Do you want to come in for dinner?”

  He watched her for a moment, and then nodded slowly and followed her inside.

  “Where are all the servants?” Katherine asked Matthew.

  “Your uncle sent them home to their families. I said I would stay with the house, as I can’t return to Scotland.”

  “Where is your cousin, then?”

  “She had to leave,” he said, a little sadly.

  She touched his arm. “The siege can’t last for ever. It won’t be long before she’s back again.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

  “As we are the only ones here I suppose I should find some food for us,” Katherine said.

  She’d never prepared a meal before. She ventured into the kitchen. The stone surfaces were empty. She walked down the steps into the cellar, investigating the cool pantry until she discovered a joint of cold ham, hanging from the rafters. She found plates and carefully cut up the ham and then served
it with some apple chutney and beans.

  Meanwhile, Matthew sat at the kitchen table, watching her. She had been planning for them to eat there, but it was freezing cold without the fires. The stone floor seeped ice into the soles of her feet.

  “Shall we go into the parlour?” she asked.

  “I think your aunt would be outraged to find out that her servants ate in the parlour while she was away.”

  Katherine grinned. “I know. Somehow I can’t bring myself to care. It’s probably the threat of death. It makes social conventions seem a little less … important.” She took a step closer to him. He bent his head minutely towards hers. He blinked once, twice, and then she leant in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

  > First objective achieved in time-landscape 1745

  > System progressing as desired

  She pulled back immediately. What was she doing? How could she be so improper?

  Matthew was pale and shocked too. “Katherine—!”

  She could feel herself flushing with mortification. She’d spoilt everything. Matthew wouldn’t want anything to do with her now. She fought back tears. Then, with a sudden rush, he bent his face down towards her again, and kissed her. It was a long, intimate touch.

  She pressed herself into him. She knew she shouldn’t, but it felt so right, like they had done this a hundred times before, like they were meant to do this. Matthew wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into her side. Katherine felt as if her happiness was inexhaustible.

  He pulled back with a shudder, their lips breaking apart.

  “We can’t,” he said despairingly. “It isn’t right. I’m taking advantage of you, Katherine. I can’t take you away from your family, your life. We can’t be together.”

  “Yes, we can. We’ll run away. I don’t care, Matthew. Take me back to the Highlands, where we can steal cattle with the best of them! I love you.”

  “Katherine, you don’t know what you are talking about. You have no real idea of what life is like if you live in poverty. You’ll regret this decision.”

  Katherine pressed a hand against his cheek. She could feel the beginnings of stubble against her palm. He leant into the touch, but his expression was closed.

  “I have no inheritance, you know,” she said, voice soft and loving. A tone she didn’t recognize. It was so full of warmth and happiness. “I told you, my father was a servant. I wouldn’t even be living here but for the grace of my aunt and the stubbornness of my grandmother. I should have grown up a servant, like you. My cousin will inherit the family fortune. I’m not a golden egg to be stolen away by a servant. I’m a goose egg.”

  “Well, if you have no money, I’m not sure I want you any more,” he said, grinning widely.

  She snorted and kissed him again. She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from her. It vibrated against his lips. She was overcome with giddiness. He kissed her more deeply, and her laughter melted away. She sighed into his mouth, shivering.

  After a long moment, he stepped back, parting their lips almost reluctantly again. His eyes were dark, soft; hers caught on the flushed line of his neck.

  “We could elope. Start a farm, a family,” he said, achingly hopeful.

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  He kissed her again. It was soft and filled with promise. Katherine tried to hold in the groan that was threatening to escape. Matthew’s lips were pressed to her neck and his fingers were wrapped in her hair. His fingertips caressed her scalp, before moving to rub her neck at the base of her skull.

  Shocked at her audacity, she pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and sucked. His hands brushed her hair behind her ears, thumb rubbing along the length of her neck. He pressed into the hook of her jaw and she shivered again, helplessly opening her mouth to him.

  After a while he groaned.

  “Shh,” she murmured into his mouth. She took a moment to finish the kiss in her own time, firmly, insistently, and then pulled away. She’d wanted to touch Matthew for weeks now. She was going to make the most of her every chance.

  “Am I allowed to speak, now?” he asked, smirking.

  “You may,” she said, laughter in her voice.

  “Will you marry me, Katherine? I want us to spend this life and the next together.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes. What did I do to deserve you?” she asked, pressing soft fingertips to his cheekbones.

  “What did I do to deserve you?”

  “We can be equally blessed.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-160

  Crimea, Ukraine, 1854

  His meeting over, the general crossed the tent towards them with a clear expression of recognition. Katy winced, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t say anything about her and give away her secret. She squared her shoulders and prepared to interrupt him if he mentioned Lord Somerset. To her surprise, though, he turned to Matthew, saying in delight, “Matthew Galloway!”

  “George!” Matthew exclaimed, shaking him warmly by the hand. Katy watched with a mixture of horror and amazement. “How are you?” Matthew went on. “I feel rather stupid, not realizing I was waiting for my old friend.”

  George laughed. “What are you doing in this neck of the woods? Please say you aren’t a soldier, or I’ll have to speak to your superior about uniforms.”

  Matthew chuckled. “Ah, no. But I am here in a professional capacity. I’m reporting for The Times.”

  George’s expression dropped. “That’s you? Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I wish you weren’t involved in this.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You won’t be made welcome, I’m afraid. A lot of my comrades don’t approve of bringing a journalist to the front. Security, you know. I spoke to Raglan last week, and he’s furious with you. Apparently, the Russians got hold of one of your articles and it has caused a lot of trouble at home.”

  Katy held back a wince. She felt on the verge of fainting.

  “I’ve heard the same ever since I arrived,” Matthew confirmed glumly. “But I have to carry on regardless. What I’m doing is too important.”

  “Important?” George offered them a seat, watching Matthew intently.

  “People at home are concerned about the organization of the army. Contrary to what your superiors believe, I am not here as a spy for the Russians but to help the British soldiers. I’ve sent back accurate descriptions of the administration here, and my efforts have set in motion several urgently needed reforms. My editor tells me that there has already been a huge amount of progress since we arrived.”

  George looked doubtful. “Well, I’ll keep my opinions to myself. Anyway, how can I help you today?”

  “Accommodation, George. I have a letter from Lord Raglan, promising assistance. He signed it several months ago as a favour to the editor of The Times, though it seems his opinion of me has changed since then.” Matthew passed over the letter.

  “You’re lucky you were sent to me. Anyone else and you would have been refused. Raglan has issued orders not to help you. But I think I can find something for an old friend, even if our opinions on what you are doing here do differ.”

  Matthew grabbed George’s hand again, shaking it gratefully. “Thank you, George. It means a lot to me.”

  “No trouble at all, my man.”

  They beamed at each other, and then Matthew seemed to remember himself. He turned to Katy, who was doing her best to imitate a chair and sink into the background.

  “Sorry, Kit, this is my old friend George. George, this is my assistant, Christopher Russell. I’ve known George my whole life; he’s a family friend. Sadly, we’ve rather lost touch and I don’t see old George as much as I’d like any more.”

  “We are rarely in the same country,” George chided, and then he turned to Katy. “Pleasure to meet you, son.”

  She tilted her head in a weak kind of nod while trying to hide her face. “And you,” she murmured.


  She could feel his gaze on her, but she kept her own firmly on the ground and only when she heard him speaking to Matthew again did she relax. Then, to her horror, she looked up to find that George’s eyes were still firmly fixed on her. There was a slightly perplexed frown creasing his brow.

  “I’ll arrange for a tent to be found for you,” he said. “In the meanwhile, please make yourselves comfortable here. I’ll have some water brought in for you. I can’t offer much in the way of tea or coffee, I’m afraid.”

  “Thanks again, George,” Matthew said.

  “My pleasure,” George said. He was still looking at Katy. Then his expression cleared. “Oh, yes. I remember you. You’re Raglan’s boy, aren’t you? The one I found reading books in the library instead of working. You’ve found yourself some honest work, I see. It was good of him to provide you with a servant for your journey, Matthew. And one from his own house too. I bet he regrets that now he’s so angry with you, doesn’t he?”

  Matthew stared at Katy like he had never seen her before. Her face must have told him everything he needed to know, because he said, “Excuse me, George. I’m feeling a little ill. I’m just going to get some air.” Then he left the tent without waiting for a reply.

  George stared after him in confusion.

  “Well, I do hope Matthew is all right. I’ll go and arrange your accommodation. Please help yourself to refreshments while I’m gone.”

  Katy nodded shakily. After George had bustled off, she pressed her hands to her eyes, unable to hold back the tears.

  Matthew didn’t come back.

  UNIVERSITY OF NOTTINGHAM CAMPUS, ENGLAND, 2039

  Kate went to her final lecture of the day, since they were waiting to see if Tom could access the online storage. It felt strange, though, carrying on with real life, with everything that was happening. It all seemed so unimportant now. After her lecture, she went straight back to Matt’s room. She found him waiting for her with a hot meal and a glum expression.