Threaded Through Time, Book One

by Sarah Ettritch

  “I see. How old is Pam?” Margaret asked, hoping to learn Robin’s age too.

  “Twenty-six. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three,” Margaret said absently, still absorbing Robin’s shocking answer. Wasn’t Pam worried that she’d never find a husband? Wasn’t Robin?

  “How old’s Jasper?”

  “Thirty.”

  “I’m the same age as Pam,” Robin volunteered.

  Twenty-six. Margaret’s curiosity was too strong to quell. “Don’t you want to get married?” Robin shrugged. “Sure, one day.”

  But she was already twenty-six! Had she not found the right man? Who would be right for Robin? Margaret had a difficult time picturing her on a man’s arm. “What type of man would you marry?”

  Robin shifted in her chair and grimaced. “Um . . .” A click came from the direction of the kettle. “Water’s boiled.” She pushed away from the table. “How do you like your tea?”

  “Just milk, please.” Robin’s discomfort when asked about the type of man she’d marry had piqued Margaret’s interest. She wanted to ask Robin again, but didn’t want to annoy her.

  Robin carried two cups to the table and sat down. “So how did you and Jasper meet?” The change of subject didn’t surprise her. “Through mutual friends, I suppose. We would occasionally be invited to the same soirée and engage in conversation. And then he invited me to one of our annual balls.” She remembered her elation when she’d received the invitation. Finally, a handsome man who didn’t bore her. Surely she’d be swept off her feet; it would be her turn to entertain her friends with breathless accounts of the passionate kisses she and Jasper shared. But the stories she’d told them were just that—stories, with every passionate detail a lie. “We’ve dated since then.”

  “And from the sounds of it, you were in the middle of getting engaged when you were rudely brought here.”

  “Yes.” And Robin had read the last page of her diary! Margaret felt her face flush; she picked up her tea and sipped it, even though it burned her tongue. If Robin were to ask how she felt about Jasper, if she loved him, what would she say? She gripped her cup with both hands.

  “If Pam does succeed in sending you back, I wonder if you’ll end up right where you left off, or a few weeks later, or . . .”

  Margaret slowly let out the breath she was holding. “Arriving back in 1910 will be quite sufficient.” She wanted to talk about something else. Perhaps there was another way to find out what type of men would attract Robin. For some reason, Margaret longed to know. “It’s Saturday. Will you entertain callers this evening?”

  Robin’s brow furrowed. “Callers?”

  “Gentlemen.”

  “Oh.” Robin quickly lifted her cup to her mouth, but not in time to hide her amusement.

  “Saturday night is still a popular date night, but no, there won’t be a line of gentlemen callers at our door. I suspect we’ll watch one of Pam’s old movies. I usually bow out, but since we have guests, I guess I’ll make the popcorn and join you.”

  She made it sound as if she were facing a harrowing ordeal. From what Margaret had gathered, a movie was a long TV show. “You don’t enjoy movies?”

  “I don’t really like the old ones. They’re too traditional and sappy for me.” Robin’s eyes narrowed and she wagged her finger at Margaret. “But I’m thinking they’ll be just your thing.” Margaret had the sneaking suspicion she’d just been insulted.

  “Do you want biscuits?” Robin asked. “I should have offered before. Sorry.”

  “No, thank you.” She searched for a way to bring the conversation back to gentlemen without being obvious, but couldn’t think of one.

  Robin leaned across the table. “I hope you won’t be offended, but I have the impression that Jasper’s family is quite well off.”

  Margaret nodded.

  “And you’re . . .”

  “Upper middle class.”

  “So you won’t have to work outside the home.”

  “No!”

  “And you don’t work now or go to university?”

  “No.” Women in her time did go to university or work, but reasonable and respectable women were content to take care of a husband and family. Margaret had no intention of shaming her parents.

  “So what do you do with your time, then?” Robin smiled reassuringly, perhaps because she sensed Margaret’s fear that anything she said would be mocked. “I’m just curious. Historians would kill for this opportunity. I mean, we know a lot about the early twentieth century, but that’s no substitute for actually talking to someone like you.” Margaret lifted an eyebrow. “You’re honestly curious?”

  “Yes.”

  She hesitated, then decided there wouldn’t be any harm in telling Robin about her hobbies, her afternoons out with her girlfriends, and her love of books. Robin peppered her with questions, wanting to know the tiniest details. It wasn’t until after Jasper and Pam had returned and interrupted them that Margaret realized she’d spent the entire time talking about herself and had learned absolutely nothing about Robin. When conversing with someone she didn’t entirely trust, Margaret would continuously ask questions so she wouldn’t have to reveal anything about herself. Was that what Robin had been doing? She did seem the suspicious type, and perhaps still didn’t believe that her guests were from 1910.

  Next time Margaret had the opportunity to converse with Robin, she would ask the questions. And she dearly hoped there would be a next time, because Robin was different from any woman Margaret had ever met. Oh, Pam was too, by virtue of the hundred years that separated them. But Robin . . . she was both fascinating and frightening. Margaret felt drawn to her, in a way she never had to anyone else.

  *****

  Margaret stifled a yawn and tried to focus on the events unfolding on the TV. How Robin could ever have thought she’d be enthralled by this utter tripe was beyond her. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Pam reaching for another tissue. Margaret had used one earlier, and couldn’t understand why anyone would prefer something that felt like paper to a soft handkerchief.

  “It doesn’t matter how many times I watch this scene,” Pam sniffled. “It gets me every time.”

  Jasper turned away from the TV to murmur to Pam. Margaret had noticed how quickly Pam had claimed the place on the sofa to his left, leaving poor Robin with no choice but to squeeze in next to Margaret, probably the last person she wanted to sit next to. Robin had encouraged Margaret to sit back and relax. She had to admit, she was comfortable, especially since kicking off her shoes.

  Robin was awfully still; she hadn’t crunched on popcorn for ages. Margaret gave her a sidelong glance. Robin was asleep! Margaret wanted to elbow her awake, so she wouldn’t have to suffer through this torture alone. Then she noticed that the half-full popcorn bowl on Robin’s lap had tipped to one side. She carefully reached for it and tried to right it without disturbing Robin, but Robin’s eyes snapped open. “Sorry,” Margaret mouthed.

  Pam chose that moment to groan at whatever was happening in the movie. “Oh, the poor man. I almost can’t bear to watch this part,” she said with a sob.

  Robin caught Margaret’s eye; her mouth twitched. Laughter bubbled up within Margaret.

  She pressed her lips together, covered her mouth, and leaned forward.

  “It’s all right, Margaret,” Jasper murmured. “Would you like a tissue?” His misguided concern almost had her in stitches. She could feel Robin shaking and didn’t dare look at her. Jasper interpreted her silence as affirmation and snapped a tissue from the box.

  Margaret accepted it with her free hand, keeping her other hand firmly over her mouth. The dam still threatened to burst. She squeezed the tissue until she’d mastered herself, then leaned back and dabbed at her moist eyes.

  Robin nudged her arm and tilted the popcorn bowl toward her. Margaret scooped out several kernels. She popped one into her mouth and tried to pay attention to the movie, but a heightened awareness of Robin kept intruding. Margar
et noticed every time Robin shifted, reached for popcorn with her long fingers, yawned, breathed! It was as if Robin’s senses were connected to her own.

  Chapter Five

  Margaret pushed a book into the bookcase and pulled out another one. At this rate, she’d finish rereading all of Dickens’ work before Pam sent them home. Normally she read in bed, not in the afternoons, when she’d be out with friends or entertaining guests with Mother. She wasn’t used to spending so much time alone.

  Yesterday had begun with a bizarre church service she and Jasper watched on TV. What was the point? Wasn’t church about community? She’d expected Pam and Robin to watch the service with them, but they’d both insisted that they had things to do that couldn’t wait. After lunch, Pam had monopolized almost all of Jasper’s time, though she wasn’t entirely at fault. Jasper had offered to fix a loose door knob here and a wobbly chair there, and Pam hadn’t dissuaded him.

  Margaret could have spent time with them after supper, but they’d both wanted to watch another one of those horrid movies, so she’d decided to read in the kitchen instead.

  If Robin would have been there to silently laugh with her, maybe she would have joined them, but Robin had passed most of the day behind a closed study door, and the evening shut away in her bedroom. “She’s in elf-land,” Pam had said when Margaret inquired about the occasional muffled shouts. “It’s a game people play over the computer. She’s yelling at her teammates. Don’t worry if you don’t understand it. I don’t, either.” When Robin had finally emerged from the bedroom and come downstairs, all she’d said was that the room was free for Margaret and good night, much to Margaret’s disappointment. Robin didn’t want much to do with her and Jasper; she was polite but mainly kept to herself. Pam, on the other hand, appeared eager to play the host, especially with Jasper. It had crossed Margaret’s mind that Pam might have a special interest in him, but what if she did? They were engaged.

  Jasper was an honourable man. This morning he’d reminded her that they would spend time alone under the same roof, which would be inappropriate back home, and that they must observe the proprieties of their time—as if she’d intended to behave any differently. Margaret only had reason to worry if Pam couldn’t send them back, but she refused to consider that awful possibility.

  Would she and Jasper arrive back in 1910 on the same day and at the same time they’d left, or was the time they were passing here also passing in 1910? If the latter, what did people think had happened? Had she and Jasper seemingly disappeared into thin air? Had her parents called in the police? Did people think they’d eloped? What if they arrived back in a different year? What if they ended up further into the future, with people not as hospitable as Robin and Pam? What a ridiculous situation! She’d be certain it was a dream, if everything didn’t feel real and events since they’d arrived here weren’t so coherent.

  Jasper came into the living room, wiping his forehead with his arm. “I’ve finished sanding that old chair. I hope Pam brings home the right stain.”

  “I’m sure she will.” And Margaret would spend another day reading while Jasper laboured in the basement. But if it wasn’t the chair, it would be something else. He clearly wanted to make himself useful, and his idea of observing proprieties meant avoiding being in the same room with her, though he’d sat with her to eat the sandwiches she’d made them for lunch. “What time is it?” He pulled out his pocket watch. “Just after five.”

  “I’d better start preparing dinner. You should wash up.”

  “Yes.” He hovered a moment longer, then cleared his throat and went upstairs. She couldn’t blame him for feeling uncomfortable. At home, they’d see each other perhaps once or twice a week. Jasper would be busy working with his father, spending time at his gentlemen’s club, and engaging in sports activities with his brothers and friends. Here, they were in each other’s pockets and slept only a room apart. Under any other circumstances, their behaviour would be scandalous. Perhaps it was best to limit their time together when they could. After all, familiarity sometimes bred contempt. Best to save that until after they were married.

  Margaret busied herself in the kitchen, and had just finished setting the table when Pam strode in, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. “Oh, the table looks lovely. But we only need three places.”

  “Three?”

  Pam nodded. “Robin won’t be joining us for dinner. She’s out with a friend.”

  “Oh.” Margaret’s disappointment and curiosity surprised her. Was Robin dining with a gentleman? It shouldn’t matter to her, but it did, perhaps because Robin hadn’t answered the question about the type of man who attracted her.

  Margaret was rather proud that she’d managed to prepare dinner on her own, and graciously accepted Pam and Jasper’s praise. As they ate, Pam described her day, and told them more about her job in human resources. Her complaints about her duties and her superior, and the “bitch sessions” she apparently frequently had with her colleagues, reinforced Margaret’s conviction that women should only work if they had to. Pam should find herself a husband and be done with it.

  After helping Pam load the dishwasher—Margaret could understand the machine’s popularity—they decided to play cards, much to her relief. They’d been playing for about an hour when Robin came home. “What, no movie?”

  Pam shook her head. “We can watch a movie tomorrow night.” Margaret could hardly wait.

  Robin picked up the kettle and carried it to the sink. “Anyone want tea? Margaret?”

  “No, thank you.” She restrained herself from asking about Robin’s evening; it was none of her business.

  “Can you put coffee on?” Pam asked.

  “Sure,” Robin said. “I heard it’s going to pour tomorrow.” Pam nodded. “Sue’s pissed because she’d booked the day off to play golf.”

  “Golf?” Jasper said. “I love golf.”

  “Do you?” Pam picked up a card from the stack in the middle of the table and slid it into her hand. “So do I. We should go.” She glanced at Margaret. “All of us. Robin, check the weather for Friday. I could take the day off, have a long weekend.”

  “I’ll check, but I’m not going. I can’t just book the day off.” Robin leaned against the counter near the kettle and peered at her phone. “It’s supposed to be nice, but that could change.”

  “I’ll book Friday off anyway. If we don’t golf, we can do something else.”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Jasper smiled broadly. “I hope we can golf. Are the rules different? The equipment? I’m looking forward to finding out.” Pam twisted in her chair. “What about you, Margaret? Do you play?”

  “I tried it once. I didn’t enjoy it,” she admitted. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave the house and be swallowed up by 2010. She already knew too much about the future. Nothing she’d learned had diminished her longing to return home, or caused her to question the norms of her day, but what if she learned something that did? She had to return to 1910; the less she knew about 2010, the better. Frankly, she felt that Jasper should shelter himself as well, but it wasn’t her place to question him. “Why don’t you go with Pam, Jasper? I don’t mind staying here.”

  “No, Margaret,” Jasper said as Pam shook her head. “You can’t stay here alone.”

  “Someone might come to the door,” Pam said.

  Someone could come to the door while she and Jasper were here alone. What did it matter if one or both of them were inside? “I know not to answer it.”

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Pam said. “You don’t have to play.”

  “What will she do while you’re playing?” Robin asked. “You can’t leave her to fend for herself while you and Jasper are out on the course.”

  “And I don’t think Margaret should go,” Jasper said. “Some of the sights I saw on Saturday aren’t suitable for a lady’s eyes.”

  Pam’s brows shot up.

  “A lady of 1910,” he quickly clarified.

  �
��That’s better,” Pam murmured. “Oh well, maybe we can go another time, when Robin will be around.” She sighed. “Of course, the weather’s only going to get worse.” Margaret held her cards in front of her face and blinked back tears. Why didn’t they trust her to stay here by herself? She wouldn’t mind if Jasper and Pam went off to play golf; she would be perfectly fine on her own. They were treating her like a child! And yet she felt guilty because they refused to golf with her but wouldn’t golf without her!

  “If I could swing most of Friday afternoon off—no pun intended—would that help?” Robin asked.

  “You just said you can’t book the day off,” Pam said as Margaret slowly lowered her cards to peek at Robin.

  “Well, I can’t be home the entire day. I have a class at 11:00 and a lab at 1:00. But if I sit in on Thursday’s lab instead, I could be home around 12:45.” Pam’s face lit up. “That would work! Are you sure?”

  Robin dropped a teabag into a mug. “It means I’ll be home a little later on Thursday, but yeah. I’m sure.”

  “And you don’t mind staying here with Margaret?”

  “No.”

  “All right, then. I’ll book Friday off. I’m glad it worked out.” It had worked out for Pam and Jasper. Robin had only offered to rearrange her schedule when it had become clear that they needed a child-minder. Margaret wished she were home.

  Here, everyone seemed more sophisticated, including Jasper. She didn’t belong.

  “Your turn,” Jasper murmured.

  She slid a card from her hand and tossed it onto the table, but her heart was no longer in the game. Robin quietly left after making her tea, and when Pam won the game and got up to make coffee, Margaret seized the opportunity to retire early. She picked up her Dickens book from the living room and trudged up the stairs.

  On the landing, she could see Robin working in the study. Margaret hesitated, then walked to the open door and knocked on it. Robin looked up. “Thank you for agreeing to stay with me on Friday,” Margaret said.

  “Sure.”