by Jason Ayres
“Well”, said Josh. “Your boss can take the blame”.
That’s true, thought Hannah. He could.
“And on the plus side you can have the glory of finding her”, added Josh. “It will look good on your CV”.
“I like your thinking”, said Hannah, smiling. This was all working out rather well for her.
“Is Kaylee going to be in on this?” asked Lauren. “I don’t like the idea of us trying to pull the wool over her eyes”.
“She has to be”, replied Charlie. “Otherwise she won’t be able to play the amnesia part properly. When she comes out we’ll fully brief her on the situation and explain what to do”.
Peter had been quiet for the past few minutes but decided it was now time to speak up. “Isn’t there something you are all forgetting?” he asked.
“What’s that?” replied Josh.
“What is going to happen after Kaylee comes out of the tunnel? Look at the trouble her missing for two days has caused. Once she is out of the Bubble it will be open again and the next person to go inside will be gone for four days”.
“I hadn’t thought of that”, replied Charlie. None of them had. They had been so busy deciding what to do about Kaylee they hadn’t thought any further ahead.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it”, said Peter, “and I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I do it? Half-term starts tomorrow so it’s not like I need to be anywhere. Plus, there’s somewhere I really need to be next Wednesday and it can’t come quickly enough for me. Knocking four days off the wait would suit me just fine”.
“It sounds like a good plan”, said Hannah. “But then what do we do after those four days?”
“Well, I’ve got some ideas about that, too, but I need more time to think about it”, replied Peter.
“Perhaps we should talk about it some more tomorrow”, suggested Charlie, thinking that his mother might be worrying about him. “It’s nearly 10pm and we really ought to be getting home”.
“Good idea”, said Lauren, yawning. “I really need to catch up on some sleep”, she said. “I didn’t get much last night. Or the night before, come to that”.
“Me, too”, said Josh. “I’m still jet-lagged from my trip in the Bubble”.
“I’ve never seen such responsible teenagers”, commented Hannah.
“It’s not normally like this, believe me”, replied Josh.
The three teenagers pulled on their coats and headed for home. Hannah and Peter were also heading for the door but Peter wasn’t ready to go just yet. He’d enjoyed meeting Hannah and wanted to broach his ideas with her privately.
“Hannah – would you like to go for a drink? There are some more things I want to talk about that I didn’t want to mention in front of the others”.
Although she had never met him prior to that evening, Hannah had quite warmed to Peter’s friendly easygoing manner and had no hesitation accepting the invitation.
“Why not?” she replied, and they walked through the glass doors and headed towards the town centre.
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Already in the town centre, Kent had just arrived for his evening session at The Red Lion. To say he was not in a good mood would have been an understatement. The day had not gone as he had envisaged at all.
There had been no sign of the missing girl whatsoever and not even a sniff of a clue. He’d been harassed by numerous reporters from the press and TV every time he’d set foot out of the police station. And to top it all, a bigwig from the regional crime force had arrived that evening from Oxford and promptly commandeered his office.
Any hope he had of a nice quiet pint was quashed the moment he walked through the door to see Andy having yet another argument with the barman.
“And I’m telling you, it’s Wednesday!” Andy was shouting.
The barman noticed Kent and called him over. “D.I. Kent – please can you tell this idiot that today is Thursday and not Wednesday. I’ve told him, showed him my phone, even pointed it out on the TV over there but he still won’t have it”.
The TV was tuned to the sports news channel where the date and time were ever-present on the screen.
“Too much to drink again, eh, Andy?” asked Kent. “Losing track of time now, are we?”
Andy was incensed. Were they trying to make a fool of him? It couldn’t be Thursday could it? He hoped not because Thursday was the day he had to get the train into Oxford to sign on. He’d already missed one appointment this month and couldn’t risk missing another or they’d cut his beer money off.
The pub was quite busy for a Thursday, and Kent’s arrival had raised a few eyebrows. Before he could continue trying to convince Andy of the correct date he found himself surrounded by drinkers all asking similar questions.
“Have they found the missing girl?”
“Was she murdered?”
“Why aren’t you out looking?”
He was being besieged from all sides.
Just outside the front door of The Red Lion this little scene was being observed by Hannah and Peter.
“That’s my boss”, said Hannah. “It looks like he’s got his hands full”.
“I think on reflection it might be better to go elsewhere”, suggested Peter.
“My place isn’t far. We could talk there”, she replied.
They walked away from the pub, leaving Kent at the mercy of the pack.
As for Andy, eventually he did have to concede that he’d lost a whole day, and for the first time began to worry that he might be becoming an alcoholic. He decided to get himself another pint and think about it.
Chapter Sixteen – 26th October 2018
The following day passed without incident as they counted down the hours towards Kaylee’s reappearance.
Hannah and Peter had gone back to her place the previous evening, brewed up a pot of coffee, sat down and talked for hours. They seemed to hit it off straightaway. As they talked she realised that, although he was over twenty years older than her, she felt very attracted towards him.
They were sitting cosily and easily on the bright orange sofa she’d had from her student days talking things through. Hannah had put the local radio station on in the background which was playing its late-night chill out section, a selection of ballads and soft rock numbers from the 1980s and 1990s – his era.
Peter was enjoying this unexpected opportunity to talk to someone who actually seemed interested in him for once. He’d found this eager young woman engaging and easy to talk to. It wasn’t long before he opened up and told her everything that had happened to him over the past few years.
She showed genuine sympathy when he told her about the leukaemia and put her arms around him. He felt comforted for the first time in a long time, and relieved that he’d finally found someone to whom he could unburden his fears.
He also told her about his recent conversation with his GP and the treatments that would come from America in the next few years. It was then that he broached the idea that had been formulating in his mind over the past few hours.
“You know when we were talking earlier about what to do about the Time Bubble in the future?” he asked. “Well, I think I have an idea that might resolve the problem, at least in the short term”.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Well. It’s very likely at these tests next week that they are going to give me bad news. There may be fantastic new treatments coming along from America, but it’s unlikely they are going to be available in time to help me”.
“Go on”, said Hannah. She was beginning to guess where this might be headed. Sure enough, Peter’s next sentence confirmed what she had been thinking.
“It’s quite simple really. What if I went back into the bubble and kept leaping forward over and over again? It would be eight days, then sixteen, 32 and so on. Within a few jumps I’d be a few years in the future and could get the treatment I need”.
“They might be able to cure you completely”, repli
ed Hannah. “After all, look at how much medical science has advanced over the past few years. It’s definitely worth trying”.
She pondered some more and then added, “If we worked out all the dates and times when you were going to reappear, I could keep abreast of all the latest medical news. Each time you reappear I could come and meet you and give you an update. Once the cure’s found, you can leave the Bubble for good”.
“Which still leaves one problem”, replied Peter. “What happens to the next poor sod that vanishes for years after I’ve stopped jumping?”
“We’ve got a few years to think up a solution for that one”, replied Hannah. “It’ll be a case of going under that bridge when we come to it”.
“There are a few other things I’ll have to sort out before I go as well”, replied Peter. “I can’t just disappear. There’s my job to consider, for a start”.
“It’s OK”, replied Hannah. “I’ll help you sort that out. What about your parents?”
“They are both dead” replied Peter. “They were nearly forty when they had me. Dad died of cancer a few years ago, and Mum went a couple of years after that. It’s probably a blessing. I wouldn’t want them to have to suffer worrying about my disappearance”.
“Any other family?” asked Hannah.
“I’ve got a sister. She lives in Australia, we don’t talk that often. I’ll send her an email and say I’m going travelling or something. There’s going to be lots of other things to deal with, though. What about my house?”
“Rent it out”, suggested Hannah. “We can sort it all out with the agent before you go and I’ll look after it all while you are away. If there’s any paperwork needs signing or anything that needs your attention, I’ll bring it all to the tunnel”.
They sat and talked into the small hours, working out all the details. Eventually Hannah, exhausted by her long couple of days, fell asleep on his shoulder.
He pulled a blanket over the pair of them and fell into a deep sleep, feeling more content than he had done for a long time.
The following morning, Charlie and Josh walked into school together. It was another wet and dreary day with a persistent light drizzle gradually soaking into their clothes.
They were pleased to see that, as Hannah had predicted, the tunnel had been reopened and the police and paparazzi were gone.
Their relief at escaping the reporters was short-lived though. As they approached the school they could see that the hordes of news crews had reassembled there. And worst of all they could see Dan facing a camera saying goodness knows what.
Before they could be spotted they wisely turned and walked back the way they had come, deciding a day off school was probably in order.
They may have escaped the clutches of the press, but Lauren wasn’t so lucky. With everything that had been going on she figured she could justify taking a day off, and besides, it was the last day before the half-term break. However, her plans to spend the day catching up on sleep were rudely awakened around 10am by someone banging on the door.
She tried to ignore it, but they wouldn’t go away and continued knocking. Reluctantly she walked downstairs in just her skimpy nightie and answered the door.
Straightaway she was greeted by the flash of a camera, held by a chubby-faced man who she guessed was aged around 30. There was another man with him, older with thinning grey hair and an old grey raincoat to match. ”Miss Lauren Watson?” enquired the older man.
They were obviously journalists and she was in no mood for them. So she responded abruptly. “What do you want?”
“No need to be like that, Miss” replied the reporter. “We just want to help. We understand you were one of the last people to see the missing girl before she disappeared?”
“I’m not talking to any journalists, right? I know the kind of crap you print in your papers and I want no part of it”.
“So you aren’t interested in helping find your friend then?” replied the journalist. “Look, we’re getting soaked out here, why don’t you let us in for five minutes. It’ll be worth your while”.
“What do you mean?” Lauren was getting angrier by the second.
“We pay good money for stories, Miss. What about this lad, Charlie Adams? Perhaps you could tell me about him. Boyfriend, wasn’t he? Were they having sex?”
“Go away!” yelled Lauren, and slammed the door. But they didn’t go away and continued knocking. Then the letter box opened.
“Have you got something to hide, Miss Watson?” called the grey-haired man.
Lauren ignored him, headed upstairs, pulled on some clothes and prepared to sneak out of the back door.
When she opened the back door she could still hear them talking.
“She was a little cracker”, she could hear the chubby man saying. “I wouldn’t mind getting a few snaps of her for page 3”.
She shuddered at the thought. Everything she’d heard about gutter press journalism was true.
She sneaked out through the back gate, pulled out her phone and began dialling Josh’s number.
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When the boys turned back into Charlie’s street they saw more journalists hanging around outside his house. They made their second tactical withdrawal of the day and headed for Josh’s house instead.
Lauren joined them soon after, so the three of them ended up camping out at Josh’s house for the day. It seemed they were safe there. Clearly the journalists hadn’t linked Josh to the case.
Flicking on the news channel to find out the latest on the case, they were greeted by Dan’s chubby face filling the screen. He was eagerly answering the questions Seema was throwing at him.
“So you knew the girl well then?” asked Seema.
“Oh yes, we go way back”, replied Dan. “That’s why I’m so upset. She was very keen on me, you know”.
“Bollocks was she!” shouted Lauren at the TV.
“Unbelievable!” said Charlie.
“And what about his other friends?” asked Seema. “I understand that the police have been making enquiries at the school”.
Seema was on slightly shaky ground here. She’d already been warned by the police not to discuss individuals involved but could never resist pushing the boundaries. That was what had got her onto the country’s leading news channel in the first place.
Dan took a bite of a chocolate biscuit before answering with his mouth full.
“Look at that greedy bastard!” remarked Josh. “He can’t even stop eating when he’s on TV”.
Dan continued, swallowing his biscuit and smiling into the camera. “Well, all I can say is, there’s no smoke without fire is there?”
“Do you know what?” said Lauren. “One day I’d love to wipe that smug grin off his face”.
“Agreed”, said Charlie. Maybe one day they would.
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Peter wasn’t surprised when all three of them were absent from English that day. He had seen the journalists hanging around the school gates that morning.
He and the rest of the school had got through the day as best they could. The headmaster had called a full school assembly, where he had expressed concerns for Kaylee and urged the students to do whatever they could in order to help find her.
He’d also given them strict instructions not to talk to any journalists or risk suspension. He hadn’t been at all impressed with Dan’s interview, which was now being shown on an hourly basis on the rolling news channel, and had given him a stern talking to.
At the end of the day, Peter took a wistful look around the classroom where he’d taught for the past eight years. He wasn’t entirely sure what lay ahead but was fully aware that this might be the last time he’d see this room.
He got his bits and pieces together and headed for home, excited and apprehensive at the same time as he prepared for his first trip into the Time Bubble.
Hannah had gone back on duty at 9am at a very busy police station. The place was swarming with
officers who had been brought in to help with the search for Kaylee. She acted as normally as possible and played along, knowing that Kaylee was going to be fine.
Kent had been blustering about all day, coming up with increasingly bizarre theories and illogical deductions that made her wonder if he might not be losing the plot. He seemed to be overdoing it in his attempts to impress the chief superintendent who had come up from Oxford. He wasn’t succeeding.
She had spent most of the day out with Adrian in a patrol car touring the wider area outside the town looking for clues which she knew they’d never find. She indulged Adrian, though, who was enjoying the opportunity to do some “real police work” as last.
She couldn’t wait for 6pm to come when she could get off duty and get started on the real work of the day.
The five of them had arranged to meet at Peter’s house at 7.30pm. They felt it was the best place to meet as it was less public and there would be no parents around asking awkward questions. It would also give Peter a chance to give Hannah the once-over of the place, bearing in mind the plans they had made the night before.
She arrived before the others which gave him a chance to put another proposal to her. He was showing her the bathroom upstairs which he’d had the foresight to scrub from top to bottom before she arrived, even the horrible gunky bits behind the sink pedestal. He wanted to show her that he was the kind of man who looked after himself.
The only evidence now of its previous state was the overpowering smell of bathroom cleaner from his somewhat overzealous cleaning. She was clearly impressed.
“Listen, I’ve been thinking”, said Peter, as they stepped back out onto the landing. “You know we talked about me renting this place out? Well, I think I’ve got a better idea”.
“Go on”, said Hannah, wondering what he had in mind.
“Remember when you told me the other night how expensive your flat is and how the letting agency keeps putting up the rent?”
Hannah remembered. They had been talking about house prices. Hannah had often thought that she ought to try and get on the property ladder. Adrian was always going on about how rent money was dead money. Somehow she’d never got around to buying a place and it certainly wasn’t funny paying nearly a thousand pounds a month to rent a one-bedroom flat.