by Anthony Burn
At around ten-fifteen I’d finally got into my stride and was making good progress when I heard a scream from behind me. I spun around in my chair to find Lauren standing beside the kitchen worktop, wearing only her underwear and a startled expression, her terrified eyes darting in all directions.
Twenty-three
I could tell in an instant what had happened, but when the time device fell out of her hand and rolled across the floor, it confirmed what I already knew. I rushed over to her and wrapped her in my arms as she began to hyperventilate. Rubbing her back and cradling her head against my chest, I made soothing noises and told her she was okay, that she was safe and nothing bad was going to happen.
It took some time for her breathing to regulate enough for her to talk, but as soon as she could she was full of rapid-fire questions. ‘What just happened? Why is it daylight? Why is the sun shining? Why aren’t you in bed? You just got into bed – why are you in here? Why are you dressed?’ She looked around helplessly. ‘Why is the fucking sun shining in the middle of the night?’
‘Shh, shh, shh, slow down,’ I said softly. ‘There’s nothing wrong.’
‘Yes, there is,’ she wailed. ‘Everything’s wrong. I don’t understand. Why has the night suddenly turned into day?’
She started to cry against my chest, so I kissed her head and gave her some time to recover before I said, ‘It’s okay. It’s nothing to worry about. You’ve just gone back in time.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ she sniffed. ‘That’s not possible.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I told her. ‘I can prove it to you. What time do you think it is?’
‘It’s about eleven-thirty,’ she said, her voice becoming wary.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and showed her the screen. ‘See, it’s ten twenty-four in the morning. You’ve turned the device back about thirteen hours.’
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I began to believe that if I could get her to calm down enough, she might accept what had happened and we could have the adventures in time that I’d hoped for.
She stared at the screen for a while longer and then looked out of the window. ‘No, this isn’t possible,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It can’t be.’
I was about to reassure her again when my ringtone sounded and I saw that Christa was calling. It took less than a split second to work out why, so I rejected the call and let it go to voicemail.
‘Why didn’t you answer? It might be important.’
I had to think quickly, because in order to sort out Christa’s problem, I was going to have to persuade Lauren to go back another couple of hours. ‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ I said carefully. ‘Christa probably just saw you disappear, but we can sort it out.’
‘What are you talking about?’ she asked, the panic rising in her voice again. ‘I don’t understand. How can I disappear?’
‘Okay, a few minutes ago you were at work…’
‘No, I wasn’t. I was getting ready for bed,’ she protested.
‘Yes, I know, but then you turned back to the time that you were at work, except you’re here instead. You can’t be in two places at once, and because you’re at home you can’t be at work too, so you just stopped existing there. Christa probably saw you vanish into thin air.
‘That doesn’t make any fucking sense at all. How can I stop existing? Are you saying I’ve died?’
‘No, you’re very much alive,’ I assured her. ‘You’re just in a different place. You’re at home instead of work. Nothing bad has happened.’
‘Why do you keep saying that? It doesn’t make any sense. Something very bad has happened.’
‘It’s harmless. It’s just a bit of fun. How did you feel when you turned the device and went back?’ I asked.
‘Scared shitless.’
‘No, that was afterwards, and it’s natural the first time, but you didn’t actually feel anything as you went back because it’s instant. It doesn’t do anything to you. It just turns the time back.’
‘I don’t know. It’s just not possible.’ She was looking up into my eyes, and hers began to well up once more, but just as it seemed as though she was going to cry again I noticed an unmistakable flash of anger.
She pushed me away from her. ‘How do you know all this?’ she asked, and the fury intensified in her face. ‘Oh my God, it’s your fucking device. Why…? Why have you got it? What do you want it for? What do you use it for?’
‘I use it to go back in time. It’s just a bit of fun…’
‘You said that already,’ she snapped. ‘It doesn’t seem like fun to me.’
‘That’s just because you’re not used to it yet. Once you’ve tried it again it will—’
‘I don’t want to fucking try it again. I don’t want to get used to it!’ she shouted. ‘Why do you want to mess about with time? It must be dangerous.’
I shook my head. ‘We’ve had this conversation before,’ I told her, but as soon as the words left my lips I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
‘No, we haven’t!’ she yelled. ‘We’ve never talked about… Oh my God, you’ve used it on me before, haven’t you?’
I started to nod when my phone rang again. It was Christa calling for the second time, so I tapped reject and sent it to voicemail once more.
‘She’ll be getting frantic by now,’ I said. ‘We can sort that out by going back a couple of hours, and then she’ll never know you disappeared. I promise we’ll talk this through, but we just need to do that first.’
I made to retrieve the device from the floor, but she screamed, ‘Don’t touch that fucking thing.’
I froze, but then turned back to reason with her. ‘It’ll be okay,’ I told her. ‘We’ll do it together and you’ll see.’
‘No, it won’t be okay. I don’t want to go near that thing again, and I don’t want you to either. Please, Kee, please don’t.’
‘But what about—’
Her anger flared again. ‘No buts, I’m not going to do it. In any event, you haven’t answered my question. Have you used that thing on me before? Yes or no?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ I retorted, my own voice rising.
‘Don’t lie to me, Kee. If you hadn’t, I’d remember talking about this before. What else have you done to me? Oh my God, did you use it to get me to go out with you in the first place?’
‘No, it doesn’t work like that. I can only use it on me, not you. All it does is turn back time. I only use it if I want to do something again or if I’ve got something wrong. I can’t use it to influence you in any way. I promise you it’s harmless.’
‘Well if it’s so fucking harmless, why the big secret? Why haven’t you told me about it before?’
‘I have told you about it!’ I shouted. ‘But you just got angry about it, like you are now. Why won’t you have a rational conversation about it? I don’t want to have an argument with you.’
‘Maybe I need to get angry. Maybe I need an argument. Maybe we need an argument. Have you thought of that? What do you think that thing is doing to us, if you always use it to win a fight and let me think you’re Mr Perfect when you’re obviously not?’
‘Now you’re just being stupid,’ I bellowed at her.
‘I’m being stupid? I’m not the one who’s messing about with stuff he doesn’t understand. That thing could be doing all sorts of stuff you don’t know about.’
‘Like what, for instance?’ I snapped.
‘Like fucking up your head. How’s that, for instance?’
She turned on her heel and headed towards the bedroom. It was clear I was never going to get anywhere with her on this subject, so reluctantly I picked up the time device.
She must have seen what I was doing, because she spun around to face me again. Her cheeks were lined with tears and her face was crimson with rage, making me feel worse than ever.
‘No,’ she screamed at me. ‘Don’t you dare. Don’t do it, you arse—’
I turned back to just after ten a
nd the room went silent. As long as I made sure Lauren didn’t find the device later, the argument would never happen. I placed the time turner on the worktop, put on the kettle for a cup of coffee and splashed cold water over my burning face.
I sat at the kitchen counter, staring into space while I calmed down. I thought about all the things she had said to me and wondered if she might be right. I’d told her about the device twice now, and each time she had been instinctively against it. The first time I had put it down to her fear and lack of understanding about how it worked, but this time she had experienced it for herself; if anything, it had made her objection worse.
I could see I was never going persuade her to travel in time voluntarily, and as I came to that realisation I began to question why I had wanted her to do so in the first place. It dawned on me that if she knew about the time device, she would probably accuse me of using it to settle scores any time we had the slightest disagreement, and that could lead to even bigger arguments. I could envisage having to use the turner more and more often just to keep the peace, and that thought depressed me even further.
I hated arguing with Lauren. I knew it was a natural part of any relationship, but there was no point in making it any worse. I made a firm decision that I wouldn’t attempt to tell her about the device again. I just had to find a better place to hide it so she would never come across it by accident.
As I considered possibilities, another thought jumped into my head and I frowned at the gadget on the counter. The last time I’d used it I’d put it in my sock drawer, but Lauren was standing in the kitchen when she appeared. I couldn’t think of any reason why she would have gone through my bedside cabinet or walked all the way through to this room before turning the device.
My suspicion was confirmed when I opened the kitchen drawer and found the original device in there. With growing concern I realised that I’d been unknowingly creating multiple devices. After I’d hit Lauren, I’d taken the device from the kitchen – but I’d turned back to when it was still in the drawer, unaware that the one in my hand was now a duplicate. I’d put this second one in the bathroom cabinet. I’d done the same thing the next time, when I’d used the one from the bathroom, and put the third device among my socks.
Lauren had found the original device in the kitchen drawer and when she went back she’d created yet another. Now there were four. I collected the others, took them back to the kitchen and placed all four on the counter. This was a problem I was going to have to deal with – if I didn’t want to have duplicates in all sorts of places, I would need to get rid of one each time I used the device.
Fortunately, it was easy to put right. I picked up all four and held them for a minute, then I put three of them down and used the remaining device to turn back a few seconds. The three on the worktop disappeared into a future that would no longer exist, leaving me with just the one to hide away.
While I’d been doing all of that I’d thought of the perfect place to keep the time turner, where it would be easily accessible for me but where Lauren would never find it unintentionally. I placed the gadget in its new home and returned to the kitchen to finish my coffee. It was nearly ten-thirty and I had calmed right down, but more importantly Lauren hadn’t reappeared. My plan had obviously succeeded.
I knew she was safely at work, but I still wanted to check. Besides, I needed to get that last unhappy image of her out of my mind, so I Skyped her.
Her smiling face filled the screen, and I noticed the mischievous twinkle that I loved in her eyes. ‘Hmm, ten-thirty in the morning and you’re already missing me,’ she said with a distinct air of triumph in her voice.
I’d thought about making up a pretext for the call, but two could play at her game. ‘No, not at all,’ I said, ‘but I knew you’d be missing me and be too afraid to call, so I’m saving you the embarrassment.’
‘Yeah, right,’ she said, and then her superior tone softened. ‘If you hadn’t called me by eleven you were going to be in big trouble.’
I laughed. ‘I love you,’ I told her, and then ended the call before she could reply.
She Skyped me straight back. ‘I love you too, you gorgeous man,’ she said, and disconnected.
I Skyped her again. ‘I don’t pay you to spend all day on the phone with your boyfriend, Miss Dinsdale. Now get on with your work.’
‘Yes, sir. Sorry, boss,’ she said, and stuck her tongue out at me as she disconnected.
Even though I saw Lauren every evening, after a few weeks of the new rota I found myself looking forward to the one day each week when we worked together at the gallery. It was on one of those days that we had an unexpected visitor. Christa was out at meetings and Ashley had the day off, so it felt pleasantly like old times with just the two of us there. The mid-December day was overcast and cold, with an icy wind that hurried people past on the street outside, which probably accounted for us having not had any customers all morning.
Shortly before midday, Lauren went through to the back room behind the gallery, and soon after I felt a chilly draught as the front door opened. A small, wiry man in his sixties was struggling through the entrance with a large portfolio case, which looked as though it contained several paintings. I instinctively got up to help, but by the time I reached the front of the desk he was through and striding purposely towards me without bothering to take in his surroundings.
‘I’d like to speak to whoever is in charge,’ he commanded, obviously assuming I was too young for it to be me.
‘How can I help?’ I asked politely.
He hesitated while I guessed he was deciding whether to ask for someone senior again, but then he changed his tack. ‘I understand that Laura works here now. She’s a personal friend of mine.’
I was about to say we had nobody by that name, but I realised he meant Lauren and decided both his statements were wrong: he didn’t know her well enough to get her name right, and if he had been a personal friend she would have mentioned him to me before this. I began to get annoyed, but did my best to remain civil. ‘I’m afraid she’s indisposed at the moment,’ I said, glancing towards the back of the room. ‘I’m sure I can help with whatever you need.’
He paused again as he looked me up and down, and with an expression of resignation, he said, ‘My name is Marcus Wellbeck. I expect you’ve heard of me.’
He didn’t hold out his hand to shake so I didn’t bother to introduce myself. ‘Indeed I have,’ I told him, trying not to laugh as the reason for his arrogance clicked into place.
A look of satisfaction crossed his face at my recognition of his name. ‘I’ve decided to allow you to show some of my work here.’
‘You do know this is an art gallery?’ I asked.
The irony was lost on him; his level of pomposity rose. ‘Well, clearly I do. Why else would I be here?’
‘Are these the paintings you want us to show?’ I pointed to his case. ‘May I take a look?’
‘I’d rather speak to your superior,’ he said.
My hackles raised. ‘I have the authority to make those decisions,’ I told him.
With undisguised irritation, he opened his case to reveal four canvasses. My humour returned when I quickly flicked through his work. They were in exactly the same style as the ones I had seen in Lauren’s previous gallery and were no more likeable.
‘No, no, no and no,’ I said, pausing at each one of them. ‘We don’t want any of these here.’
His face reddened into apoplexy. ‘Well, you clearly have no idea about art. Let me talk to whoever is—’
Lauren came through from the back room carrying two mugs of coffee, and his manner changed in an instant. ‘Ah, Laura, how nice to see you again. And perfect timing,’ he said, looking at the coffee mugs as she placed them on the desk. ‘You know how I take mine. And if you could fetch your manager, I’d like to discuss showing my art.’
‘Mr Wellbent. I wish I could say it was a pleasure,’ she said sweetly, while I fought the impulse to laugh in his face.
‘It’s Wellbeck, Laura. It’s quite insulting to get my name wrong after all this time,’ he said, completely missing the rest of her insult.
She ignored his rebuke and asked, ‘Have you brought some paintings with you?’
‘Yes. Your lad here has looked at them, but I’m afraid he’s clueless—’
‘I’ve told Mr Wellbent that we don’t want them,’ I interrupted.
He glared at me, but before he could speak, Lauren said, ‘Really? Can I take a look at them?’
Wellbeck’s glare turned into a self-satisfied smirk while I looked in surprise at Lauren. She pulled the first of his canvasses out of his case and considered it carefully for a good fifteen seconds before returning it without a word and repeating the process with the second. After she had seen all four, she said, ‘These are much to your usual standard, Marcus. I’d say they are very, very poor.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said, his face flushing again. ‘You do not speak to me like that.’
‘I will speak to you however I please,’ she retorted. ‘Your work is rubbish, and Keegan is quite right, we don’t want it here. We don’t peddle trash.’
‘How dare you! I expected better of you, young lady. I always thought you knew what you were talking about, but clearly I was wrong. I will see that you are both reprimanded. Who’s in charge here?’
‘That would be me,’ she told him calmly.
He looked at her in disbelief. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he blustered. ‘Where’s the owner?’
‘That would be me,’ I said, matching Lauren’s tone. ‘And you’ve outstayed your welcome. I’d like you to leave now, please.’
He looked from one to the other of us, unable to contain his fury. ‘Obviously I’m wasting my time here. This place is doomed to failure if it’s run by imbeciles. It’s people like you two who give art a bad name.’
‘No, it’s people like you who give art a bad name,’ Lauren replied. ‘No self-respecting gallery would consider your work.’
‘Wrong again, Laura,’ he countered. ‘You ought to know that I’m a leading authority in the art world. I’ve written a number of books and I’m—’