Her eyes welled up. “Yes. And don’t laugh at me if I cry tomorrow.”
“I won’t!” Robin’s voice softened. “I’ll be missing them too.” Her throat tight, Pam nodded. Afraid of blubbering right there and then, she twisted and turned out the light.
“Good night,” Robin murmured.
Pam silently thanked her and said, “Night.” She lay down and closed her eyes, expecting sleep to elude her for a while and then to toss and turn all night. Yep, tomorrow she’d ball her eyes out. She knew Jasper had to go back—that he did go back. But if the historical record was wrong and the rhyme somehow failed? That was one outcome she wouldn’t cry about.
Chapter Nine
Pam waited in the hallway as Jasper said good-bye to Robin, then beckoned for him to follow her. She glanced at her closed bedroom door as she passed it, to reassure herself that Margaret was still inside making last minute adjustments to her hair. “We don’t have much time,” she whispered to Jasper when they were both inside the guest room.
She almost couldn’t bear to look at him. The sight of him in his old-fashioned clothing reminded her of the shock and confusion she’d felt when he and Margaret had suddenly appeared right in front of her eyes. In a few short weeks, one of those potentially menacing strangers had become the man she’d always dreamed of meeting and spending the rest of her life with. And now he was leaving, to marry someone else, have children, and die, all in the blink of an eye.
That she was about to lose him—the horror of it—paralyzed her.
His face more drawn than usual, Jasper stepped toward her. “There won’t be a day that goes by when I won’t think of you,” he said quietly.
A million responses raced through her mind. To hell with them! She threw herself into his arms and hugged him so tightly that he probably couldn’t breathe. “I’ll always cherish the time we had together,” she murmured into his ear. “I wish we’d had more.” Her eyes closed when he said, “Me too,” and his cheek flexed against hers.
They held each other, both fighting for composure. If Pam knew how to manipulate time, instead of being at the mercy of a rhyme, she’d stop time right now, keep him here, never let him go. Life wasn’t fair!
She heard the door to her bedroom opening down the hall, and pecked Jasper on the cheek, then quickly stepped back. She met Margaret in the hallway. “Ready?” Her voice sounded too cheerful and shrill.
Margaret nodded, then looked past Pam. She couldn’t have helped but notice that Pam and Jasper had both emerged from the guest bedroom, but her expression remained neutral. Her eyes settled on Pam’s face. “Thank you for your hospitality and kindness.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. I’m the one who brought you here, and I’m sorry about that.” She hesitated, then forced out polite words. “I hope you and Jasper have a lovely life together.”
“Thank you.” Margaret paused. “That’s very generous of you.” Blood rushed to Pam’s cheeks. She could really like the woman, if she wasn’t resentful that Margaret would have Jasper for the rest of her life. “Shall we go?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a minute to say good-bye to Robin.” Mind? She’d relish a few more minutes alone with Jasper. “Sure, we’ll meet you downstairs.” When Margaret moved aside, Pam brushed by her, trusting that Jasper was right behind her.
As she descended the stairs, everything felt surreal. She’d entered that defensive zone the body created to cushion the psyche from the trauma of a dreaded event, otherwise known as the I can’t believe this is happening zone. At the bottom of the stairs, safely away from Margaret’s eyes, Pam took Jasper’s hand. They walked to the exercise room in silence. She avoided looking at the book and rose quartz she’d placed on the chair earlier. She wanted to gaze at him, and took his face in her hands, determined to commit every detail to memory. This was the man who’d forever changed her life. Everyone else would be measured against Jasper and fail to impress.
Life wasn’t fair.
Tears threatened. Nope, not allowed, not when Margaret could come downstairs at any moment. Plus, Pam wanted to read the rhyme in a clear and steady voice. Blubbering through it might hamper its effectiveness. She steeled herself and nodded, then drew strength from Jasper’s answering nod and the trust he was placing in her. She lifted her hands from his face. The book and the rose quartz beckoned. With a heavy heart, Pam settled herself into the chair, flipped to the rhyme, and held the rose quartz in her hand.
*****
Margaret remained in the hallway until Jasper and Pam reached the bottom of the stairs. Only then did she gather her resolve and walk into Robin’s bedroom.
Robin stood near her computer, facing the door with her hands in her pockets. Her eyes widened. “Wow, I’d forgotten how you looked. Sort of drives it home, you know? You’re really going.”
Margaret’s heart ached. “Yes.”
“I heard you say you were going to say good-bye to me. I would have come out, otherwise.” She twisted toward her chair. “I was sitting down when you arrived, so Pam said to make sure I’m sitting when she reads the rhyme, not that I’m convinced it matters.”
“I imagine you’ll be pleased to have your bedroom back.”
“I was starting to think of it as your bedroom.” Robin chuckled. “And I guess it truly will be in a few minutes.”
A few minutes. To be among her family and friends again, and in her house, would bring Margaret much joy . . . and much sorrow. No, she had to believe that travelling through time again would return her to normal. But at this moment, knowing that she would no longer bring Robin tea, that she couldn’t offer support regarding Robin’s family, and that she’d never know what happened to her, grieved Margaret almost more than she could bear. While in Pam’s bedroom, she’d thought about what her parting words to Robin would be, but her carefully crafted, cautious remarks fled her mind. “I’ll miss you. I hope you’ll think of me on occasion.”
“Of course I will.” Robin pulled her hands from her pockets and pointed to her right. “I’ll think of you every time I’m in the study and every time I wear one of the lovely things you knitted for me.” She smiled, but was the bleakness in her eyes genuine, or what Margaret wanted to see? “I’m glad I met you, Margaret. I didn’t think I’d say that when you first arrived, but I am.
You became a good friend. I’ll miss you very much.”
Oh, if only she could tell Robin what was in her heart! But what good would that do, except to ruin Robin’s memories of her? Margaret wanted to leave Robin as a good friend, not as a deviant. To ensure that would be the case, she spoke the most difficult words she’d ever said.
“They’re waiting. I should go.”
Robin held out her arms. “Can I hug you good-bye? I promise not to mess up your hair.” Desire and politeness overruled better judgement. Margaret willingly went to her, intending to lean in and give her a quick embrace—the type of impersonal hug she shared when greeting a friend, but this time meaning so much more. But when she touched Robin, felt the warmth and pressure of Robin’s hands against her back . . . Robin . . . she would never see her again . . .
Margaret pressed against her and held her closer than she’d ever wanted to hold anyone. She felt so at home, so alive, in Robin’s arms; if only she could remain here and hold her forever.
Robin’s neck was so soft and warm, so tantalizingly close to Margaret’s lips. She swallowed, and
— No! What was she doing?
It took every ounce of willpower to slide her arms from around Robin’s neck, determined to end their embrace before she betrayed herself further. But as she stepped back, her lips brushed Robin’s cheek . . . and Robin chose that moment to turn her head . . . and Margaret couldn’t stop herself. Her last rational thought was about how delicate Robin’s lips felt compared to Jasper’s, then she utterly lost herself to that blissful state she’d never before experienced—until Robin’s fingers dug into her shoulders.
God, forgive me! Margaret pushed herself away from R
obin and stared in horror at her shocked face. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “Oh, Robin, I’m so sorry.” On the verge of tears, she wheeled and fled the bedroom.
“Margaret!”
No, she had to run, get away, escape back to 1910 where she’d fall in love with Jasper, marry him, and forget about her time here and the corruption it had wrought. As she raced down the stairs as quickly as she could without tripping over her dress, she wished she could take the kiss back, not because she regretted committing such a despicable and morally bankrupt act, but because Robin would forever remember her as a deviant. What was wrong with her? She should be concerned about her moral character, not with what Robin thought of her!
Pam and Jasper looked at her when she hurried into the drawing room. She rushed over to Jasper and clung to his arm, taking solace in the familiar. Please, please, Robin, don’t come down. Please allow me to go back to my life—my normal life—without humiliating me and forever turning Jasper against me. After what she’d just done, she had no right to ask for or expect such kindness. All the same, she was relieved to hear no footsteps pounding down the stairs.
“Margaret, you’re trembling!” Jasper peered at her. “Are you all right?” Pam leaned forward. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just anxious to get home.”
“Robin, you ready?” Pam shouted.
“Yes,” Robin shouted in reply.
Thank you, Robin.
Pam sat back, appeared about to say something, then nodded and looked down at the open book on her lap.
Hurry!
Pam read aloud:
when in the wrong time
universe will not be kind
until you align
with swapping souls
A loud rushing sound filled Margaret’s ears. Nausea suddenly wracked her; she clutched her stomach, doubled over, squeezed her eyes shut at the incessant noise—and then as quickly as it had started, the nausea passed. The deafening noise ceased. Margaret slowly straightened and forced her eyes open.
Jasper was on his knee, staring up at her and holding out a box with a ring. The clock on the mantel said 4:15! The newspaper on the table was dated September 19, 1910! She was standing in her drawing room! “We’re exactly where we were when we left,” she breathed.
“Holy shit!”
She twisted toward the voice. Pam sat on the floor near the piano, her mouth agape.
Margaret met Jasper’s startled eyes, then quickly went to the door and pushed it shut. When she turned around, Jasper was helping Pam to her feet.
“I don’t freaking believe it!” Pam cried. “Why am I here? Only you two were supposed to come back.”
Hoping against all hope, Margaret said, “Since you’d be reading the rhyme in a different time, perhaps you don’t have to wait for the next lunar cycle. You could try reading it again right now.”
Pam nodded. “There’s only one problem.”
“What?”
“I don’t have the book.”
No! Margaret frantically searched the area around Pam, to no avail. “Do you remember the rhyme?”
“Only bits of it. And who knows what will happen if I say it wrong?”
“We can’t risk it,” Jasper said.
Was it that he didn’t want to risk it, or that he didn’t want Pam to go back? Margaret’s engagement could be the shortest one on record, and not because the future bride and groom couldn’t wait for their wedding day.
Pam clutched the sides of her head and screwed up her face. “I’m pretty sure the book was published in the 1800s, and in Toronto. If we can find a copy here . . .”
“What about the rose quartz?” Jasper asked.
“To be honest, I doubt we need it. That was just my own little improvisation I threw in.”
“Then let’s find a copy of the book, though it may take time. We’ll have to look in the . . .
seedier areas of town.”
“You can’t stay here,” Margaret said. “I would gladly host you, if I could. But I doubt my family will be as understanding as Robin was.” Robin. Margaret was horrified when she felt a pang of longing. Those feelings weren’t supposed to have travelled to 1910!
“I’ll put her up in one of the guest houses on the estate,” Jasper said. “But she can’t go out looking like this. Margaret!”
She shook herself. “I’ll go fetch a dress for her. Pam, somehow you’ll have to leave the house without—”
Someone rapped sharply at the door. “Margaret? Is everything all right in there?” Mother! She crossed to the door and opened it a crack. Mother hovered anxiously outside.
“Yes, Mother. I’ll be out in a moment.” She lowered her voice. “Jasper asked me to shut the door. I believe he’s about to propose.”
Mother’s eyes lit up. “I’ll just sneak away, then.”
An idea struck her. “Why don’t you gather everyone in the back garden? We’ll come out and tell everyone the good news.”
“I’ll have Sally bring up a bottle of champagne.”
“Yes, do that.” Her heart racing, Margaret waited until Mother was out of sight. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said over her shoulder. She pulled the door closed behind her and headed for the stairs. Sally was coming down them. “Mother’s looking for you in the kitchen,” Margaret said. “Mr. Bainbridge and I are about to make an announcement in the back garden.”
“Oh, I see,” Sally said with a knowing smile. “I’ll go see what she wants.” She scurried off.
Margaret blew out a relieved sigh. She carried on up the stairs, swung her bedroom door open, walked to the closet, and froze. She could have sworn . . . She slowly turned toward the figure she’d glimpsed from the corner of her eye.
Robin stood near the vanity with her arms folded. “Am I where I think I am?” she said flatly.
“Yes. Pam is here too.” Margaret shut the door. “She’s in the drawing room.” Robin’s eyes briefly closed. “Thank god. She can get us back.”
“The book didn’t come with her.” Margaret flinched at the fear in Robin’s eyes. “But we’re going to try to find a copy here. Until then, you’ll stay in a guest house on the Bainbridge Estate.
I came up to get Pam a dress.” Wanting to hide, she opened the closet door and stepped inside, burning with shame. She had no doubt that once Robin recovered from the initial shock of being in 1910, she’d warn Jasper about the deviant nature of his future wife. She was surprised Robin could bear to be in the same room with her; under any other circumstances, Robin would probably refuse to speak with her. Perhaps travelling to the past had somehow cleansed Robin’s memory of her last terrible moments in 2010, though Margaret remembered every luscious detail.
She forced herself to focus on the task at hand and selected a dress for Pam. What about Robin? Despite the certainty that her life was ruined, Margaret felt like giggling. If not for the rift that now surely existed between them, she’d tease Robin by asking which dress she’d like.
But if the goal was to not draw attention to the two visitors from 2010 as they travelled to the Bainbridge Estate, putting Robin in a dress wouldn’t do; she probably wouldn’t make it down the front path without the neighbours pointing!
Margaret laid the dress she’d chosen for Pam on the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said without looking at Robin, and true to her word, returned a minute later with one of her brother’s jackets and a cap. “Here, put these on.” She cursed the feelings that stirred as Robin silently complied. Oh, what about a hat for Pam? No, Mother would notice if one went missing from the hall tree, and Pam only had to walk to the motor car.
Picking up the dress, Margaret said, “Follow me.” Aware of Robin behind her, she opened the door and peered into the hallway. Empty, and the house sounded quiet, too. “Come on.” They made it to the drawing room without running into anyone.
“Robin! Oh my god, not you too.” Pam hugged her, the sort of hug Margaret had intended to give her when saying good-bye.
“Oh, is that my dress?”
Margaret nodded and draped it over Pam’s outstretched arm. “Just wear it over your clothes.
By the time you’re ready, it will be safe for you to leave.”
“My motor is right outside,” Jasper said. “Wait for me on the veranda. I shouldn’t be long.” Robin remained silent, her rigid posture and tight face making Margaret wonder if she was angry, and why. Was she upset at being in 1910, in the same room as a deviant, or both? “We should go,” she said to Jasper, worried that Robin might divulge her secret right there and then.
“We know where the front door is,” Pam said. Her attention shifted to the dress.
Outside the drawing room, Jasper said, “We’re forgetting something.” Margaret frowned. “What?”
He dug the ring box from his pocket, opened it, and lifted out the ring. “This.” She held out her hand, feeling as if she were performing a role in a play. As he slipped the ring on her finger, she tried to muster excitement, but failed. “Everyone’s waiting,” she said, to spare them both the indignity of pretending to be happy.
Nodding, Jasper returned the empty box to his pocket and offered Margaret his arm. “That was a good idea, sending everyone out into the garden,” he said as she took it.
“Thank you,” she murmured, not looking forward to the excited and happy faces that would greet them when they stepped into the back garden. When Robin finally spoke about what had happened and Jasper explained to Father why he was breaking their engagement, those faces would become shocked and angry. What would happen to her? Would Father put her on a train to relatives in another city? After word got around, no family here would have her, and a scandal of this magnitude would spread like wildfire. Or would Father commit her to one of those awful lunatic hospitals? For a moment, she wanted to go back to the drawing room and beg Robin not to tell anyone, but it was too late for that. Jasper was already opening the back door; rushing back now would be as good as telling him.
Margaret pasted a smile on her face. She might as well try to enjoy what could be her last champagne. Then she’d wait for the inevitable to happen and face a life in tatters.
Threaded Through Time, Book One Page 12