Threaded Through Time, Book One
Page 18
Margaret was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, her hands clenched in front of her.
She wordlessly motioned for Pam and Jasper to go to the drawing room. Pam glanced over her shoulder and saw Robin and Margaret ever so briefly squeeze each other’s hands. A lump rose in her throat. She turned away and continued down the hallway as Robin quietly climbed the stairs.
“I’ll sit on the floor near the piano.” Pam stepped out of Margaret’s loaned dress and laid it across the piano bench. She’d imagined this moment so many times. In her mind, she’d seen herself embracing Jasper, passionately kissing him, promising to hold him in her heart forever.
Fantasies always conveniently overlooked how shitty one would actually feel at a time like this.
She couldn’t muster a passionate kiss if she tried, and there was nothing more to say that wouldn’t sound trite or make them want to kill themselves.
As Pam sat on the floor, an anemic-looking Margaret came into the drawing room and closed the door. “We don’t have much time,” she said urgently. “Everyone’s in the dining room, playing cards.”
So her plan had worked. Plan B had been to “call” on Margaret and hope they could have the drawing room to themselves. If not, they would have tried again the next evening.
“I excused myself to make tea and warm the scones. They’ll expect me back soon.” Margaret looked so fragile and on the verge of tears that Pam wanted to jump up and hug the poor woman. Time to get on with it, for all their sakes. “Then let’s not drag it out.” She held out her hand. “Jasper.”
He hesitated a beat, then handed her the book he’d had tucked under his arm. Margaret went to his side. Pam peered up at them through moist eyes. “Have a good life, you two,” she managed to whisper, then quickly lowered her head and struggled with her composure. Lucky Robin, up in Margaret’s room by herself. It didn’t matter if she cried or her lips were trembling.
Come on, Pam, hold it together long enough to read the rhyme! She shifted position so she could rest the book on her crossed legs. The desire to look at Jasper one last time was strong, but all she’d see was pain, so she kept her head down and flipped to page 17. She stared at the rhyme.
Do it!
She drew a quavering breath and read the rhyme to herself once. Do it! “All right. Here we go . . .”
when in the wrong time
universe will not be kind
until you align
by swapping souls
Shit! No obnoxious noise, no nausea, and she could still feel the hard floor under her bum.
“Let me try again.”
when in the wrong time
universe will not be—
“Pam,” Jasper said.
She held up her hand. “I know, I know. I’m trying again.” when in the wrong time—
“Pam!”
She jerked her head up. “What?”
“Margaret’s gone.”
“Where is she?” Pam snapped, unable to keep her irritation from her voice. Had Margaret run upstairs to give Robin a good-bye kiss?
Jasper’s face was ashen. “She disappeared, Pam. When you read the rhyme.”
“What?” Oh my god. “Are you sure?” She glanced at the door. Still closed, and Pam hadn’t heard the rustle of Margaret’s dress, though she’d been focused on the rhyme.
“Yes.” He stared at where Margaret had been standing just a minute ago and waved his arms through nothingness. “She just . . . disappeared. Right before my eyes.” Holy shit! “We’d better go find out if Robin’s still here.”
“I can’t go into Margaret’s bedroom.”
“I’m not going alone, Jasper, and we know Margaret’s not there. You won’t be caught in a compromising position, so come on.” Trusting him to follow, Pam grabbed the dress from the piano bench, went to the door, and opened it a crack. It sounded as if everyone was still in the dining room. They crept down the hallway and up the stairs.
Pam opened Margaret’s bedroom door. “Robin!” she whispered as she stepped into the dim room. Silence. “Robin!” She waved Jasper inside and shut the door, then glanced around. The only traces of Robin were the cap and jacket she’d left on Margaret’s bed. “She’s gone.” And Pam immediately grasped the implications. She laid the dress and book on the bed. “They’re in 2010, and they’re not coming back.”
“What? No, Pam. They’ll read the rhyme next lunar cycle. Or you will. Margaret will want to come back.”
She shook her head. “They don’t read the rhyme, Jasper. Don’t you see? If they did, Margaret would already be back. She would have returned to the exact same time she left. To us, it would look as if she’d never gone, except she’d start babbling about how she’d just spent another month in 2010. She’s not coming back.”
Jasper’s brows drew together. “But why? Why would she want to stay? Everyone she loves is here.”
Not everyone.
“What will Margaret do? She’s all alone!”
“No, she isn’t. She’s with Robin. I know you think Robin’s . . . queer, but trust me, she’ll take care of Margaret.”
“Perhaps the rhyme didn’t work. Perhaps Margaret is trapped!” Jasper said, wild-eyed.
“I doubt it. The rhyme has always worked when we’ve read it at the right time.”
“Then you can read the rhyme next lunar cycle, bring Margaret back, and go home. Don’t you want to return to your own time?”
“Margaret doesn’t want to come back, Jasper.” And Pam had no intention of inadvertently sucking Robin back to 1910. “She made her decision, and I’ve made mine. I’m staying.” He gaped at her. “What will you do?”
The moment of truth had arrived. “I think that’s up to you.” Hoping to calm her shaking hands, she shoved them into her pockets and met his eyes.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he didn’t dither. “If we’re to marry, you’ll need a birth certificate.”
Pam wanted to leap into the air and whoop, but the celebration would have to wait. She glanced around the bedroom, then went to the vanity in the corner and pulled open a drawer.
“What are you doing?” Jasper asked.
“Looking for Margaret’s birth certificate. She doesn’t need it anymore.”
“See if you can find something in her handwriting, too.” Pam rummaged through the drawer. “Why?”
“So we can try to forge a letter to her parents that explains why she ran away.” She chuckled. “We’ll say she’s eloped with a Tillman.”
Jasper snorted. “We can’t say that! Margaret would never elope with a Tillman.” Wanna bet? “Aha! Here it is. There’s nothing in here with her handwriting, though.” She twisted to give the birth certificate to Jasper.
He pointed at the vanity. “I think that’s her engagement book. We’ll take that.” He slid it from the cubbyhole and slipped the birth certificate inside its front cover.
As Pam pushed the drawer shut, her gaze fell on the three boxes of stationery stacked on the vanity. The attic. It’s possible other papers were there. I didn’t look. She flipped the lid off the top box and pulled out a sheet of paper, then opened the drawer again and reached for the fountain pen she’d spotted inside.
“Pam, we have to go, before someone finds us here,” Jasper said.
“Just give me a minute. I won’t be long.” What to say to Robin? Unless they could somehow get into Margaret’s bedroom again, this would be her last chance to say anything, and the time pressure didn’t help. She took a deep breath and tried to sort through her thoughts. So much to say, so little time to say it! Oh god, Robin. I’m going to miss you so much. A wave of melancholy washed over her. No, just like the celebration, the tears would have to wait.
“Pam!”
She hastily scribbled a note, silently cursing at her bad writing. Fountain pens! She’d have no choice but to use them now. She paused to read what she’d written: Girls,
I don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief and practical, otherwise I’ll di
ssolve into a flood of tears.
1. Margaret, you have my blessing. I’ll be fine here. I want to stay with Jasper.
2. Robin, be patient. Don’t blow it.
3. I’m not sure how you’ll do it, but have Margaret be me until you sell the house and get your paws on every last dime I have. I don’t need it.
4. My PIN number is 5598. For everything. I know, I know.
5. Tell everyone I eloped with the guy at Brenda’s party and I’m in Mexico sipping tequilas by the pool.
God, I’ll miss you. I already do. Robin, what can I say? You know what you are to me.
Okay, that flood is threatening. I’m outta here.
Have a great life, girls. You’ll have years of positive thoughts coming your way.
Love, Pam.
Pam folded the paper, slipped it into an envelope, and sealed it. “Jasper, put this in the attic near Margaret’s diary. Make sure it’s not easy to see without someone having to get on their hands and knees and really look. It’s for Robin and Margaret.” Clearly anxious to leave the bedroom and the house, Jasper did what Pam asked without arguing while she climbed back into Margaret’s dress. She grabbed the book from the bed and followed Jasper into the upstairs hallway. They tiptoed along the hall, silently descended the stairs, and escaped out the front door.
“We’ll have to leave Toronto,” Jasper said as they raced down the path. “You can’t be Margaret Wilton here. Too many people know her.”
“But what about your father? The business?”
He shook his head. “I’m not making the same mistake twice. I want to marry you, and I want to make furniture. Father be damned!”
She couldn’t wait until they were alone, so she could tell him how proud she was and give him that passionate kiss, and more. Perhaps they could manage one blissful hour, before they mourned lost friends. “Where should we go?”
Jasper pursed his lips. “I have an old school friend who probably wouldn’t mind putting us up while we get our bearings.”
Pam touched his arm. “Does this old school friend live in Halifax?” His eyes lit up with surprise. “Yes! How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
###
Look for Threaded Through Time, Book Two in late 2011
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen