An Untimely Romance: A Time Travel Romance

by Wells, J

  Heather’s heart sank. She knew it was the past and that’s where it should be left, yet somehow it seemed to be invading her and Ruben’s future. She didn’t want to look, but couldn’t not, so she walked in and closed the door behind her, even though she knew she was alone. She reached for the box and placed it on the floor. Then she knelt down and lifted the lid. A scent with a familiar undertone met her nostrils, and she recognised it as belonging to Beth. She rummaged through the contents with a strange sense of disappointment, finding only clothes, and no clues as to their relationship, what they had done together, their intimate moments.

  She sat back on the floor.

  “What am I doing?” she asked herself, feeling paranoid.

  Closing the box, she put it back where she had found it, but as she did so she noticed another, on which Beth’s name was also written, though not as clearly; the letters were small, almost scribbled. Can’t hurt, can it? she thought, trying to justify her actions as she opened the second box. But this time there was more than just clothes; here were remnants of Beth and Ruben’s relationship. A large photo album lay at the top, and as she flicked open the front cover, she read the words Egypt, our first holiday together, 2000 written in purple gel pen, obviously in Beth’s handwriting. Each photo had its own description or witty banter beneath.

  Heather frowned. How happy they looked, with smiling eyes, sipping champagne in their first-class seats. They were clearly in love, and Heather could almost feel it oozing out of that one picture. She couldn’t turn the pages fast enough now as she watched them journey from Egypt to Mexico, Jamaica, various European destinations. She travelled the world with them, and didn’t they look the perfect couple? Her stomach churned uncontrollably on the turn of the next page. Snowdonia, the tree house... It felt so wrong. There were even pictures of Beth’s children, her happy family smiling up at her, while all Heather could do was stand on the outside looking in. How could she and Ruben build memories of their own that had already been built before? She’d seen enough pictures, and rummaging further she came across some cinema and theatre ticket stubs for Swan Lake, Cats, and Oliver!, among others. If they were really over, why would he keep all this rubbish? There were wads of cards and letters, and Heather opened a pink padded Valentine’s card, on which were two embossed red hearts, intertwined. She felt the blood draining from within when she saw Ruben’s words written at the bottom: I’m so in love with you. You’ll always be my girl. The words ‘my girl’ grated in her mind, but she continued to read: I can’t wait for the answer to my question xxx

  Although her head could rationalise the concept, knowing it was in the past, her heart felt quite the opposite. It was too real, and she couldn’t let go. Why did she feel second best, almost like it was her having an affair with Ruben? Demoralised, she noticed a red box, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. As she lifted its hinged lid and peered inside, a very expensive diamond solitaire stared back at her.

  Shit, the door! she thought, looking at her phone. It was only 3.30 p.m. It couldn’t be Ruben; he wasn’t picking her up till seven. With a rush of guilt, she hurriedly threw the contents back into the box and closed the lid, shoving the ring box into her pocket, intending to put it back later. Then she heard scratching at the bottom of the door and jumped to her feet. As she opened it towards her, she saw a pair of crystal-blue eyes, pert ears, and a beautiful grey coat.

  “Where have you come from?” Heather smiled, feeling relieved.

  Reaching out her hand, the dog made no further advance and instead backed away, turning towards the living room. Heather followed, curious as to how it had managed to get in, or how she’d missed him earlier. Maybe he was in one of the other bedrooms, she thought.

  “Oh!” Heather gasped as she walked into the living room. “Beth, what are you doing here?”

  Beth jumped up, just as startled.

  “I could ask you the same question,” she said as she filled the washing machine with clothes from a black bin liner. “Sorry, Ruben didn’t say he had guests. No, he probably didn’t think... Just dropping Angie’s washing off. Not staying, mind. Things aren’t good at the moment, so she needs all the help we can give her.”

  “Oh, of course,” Heather said, feeling awkward as she sat down on the settee, watching Beth fill the kettle,

  “Tea or coffee?” Beth’s voice drifted over her shoulder.

  “Tea please, one sugar ta,” Heather replied, watching the dog as it bypassed her and went to sit next to Beth’s feet.

  “I see you and Rocky have been introduced!” She laughed, patting his head.

  “Not exactly,” Heather answered. “He ran off.”

  “Not like our Rock; he’s usually a people’s dog.”

  “Is he yours?”

  “Kind of. He was, but after the split we sort of share him; doggy custody. You did say you took one sugar?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  Heather watched her stir both mugs and place them on coasters on the coffee table before sitting beside her. Rocky, quite at home, lay between the kitchen and dining area, his eyes closed. There was a silence; not quite awkward, but well on the way.

  “Husky, isn’t he?” Heather asked, just for something to say.

  “You’re half right. Husky malamute cross, my lil chap. I took him out for his walk not an hour gone; he’ll sleep now till he gets hungry.”

  Heather gave her a half smile. “So, what’s Ruben really like? You probably know him better than anyone.”

  “Yeah, suppose I do,” Beth replied, sipping at her tea.

  Heather sat back, relaxing into the settee, scrutinising Beth’s appearance. She’d scraped her hair back into a loose bun at the back of her head, and was wearing brown mascara, which, although perhaps too many coats had been applied, blended well with her hair colour. But as for the pink eyeshadow, it would have looked far better on somebody half her age and of a different colouring. Heather questioned why she’d tried so hard, since doing the washing and walking a dog didn’t really seem a good reason to get all dolled up. Her transparent complexion was masked by foundation a good couple of shades too dark, leaving harsh lines visible at her hairline. It was obvious she liked the colour pink, since her blusher and lipstick were a similar shade. Heather wasn’t sure if she was trying to go for the natural look, but if so, she’d failed miserably. Still in her calf-length double-breasted coat in red and white tartan, leaving her insipid ankles on show, Heather wondered what she was wearing underneath. Yet with all these negatives stacked against her, why did she feel so threatened by this older woman?

  “Ruben...” Beth sat quietly in thought as if contemplating what to say next. “Yeah, he’s a great bloke, heart of gold,” she continued, her eyes fixed on Heather. “But that’s not what you’re asking me, is it?”

  Heather breathed deeply. “No, I suppose not,” she said, her voice strained.

  The atmosphere held an uncomfortable vibe.

  “Ruben as a boyfriend...” Beth rolled her eyes. “I really don’t know how to broach the subject. He can be more than a bit changeable, depends where the mood takes him really. At times our relationship was very volatile.” Beth paused momentarily, perhaps awaiting a response, but Heather’s only reply was a frown. “Look, Heather, putting it in layman’s terms, we had more than our fair share of ups and downs. The ups, almost euphoric, but as for the downs, they could have been unbearable except that I wouldn’t stand any nonsense. I think Ruben really did meet his match when he took me on. But I loved him, the kids loved him, and so we were a family in every sense of the word, and yes, Heather, he loved me.”

  Beth looked down into her mug as she spoke and then raised it to her lips, hiding her facial expression. There was a slight pause in the conversation, and Heather could feel the unease.

  Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, she asked, “Why did you break up? Ruben told me you cheated on him. I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t...”

  But she never finished her sentence. As B
eth interrupted, her tone changed slightly, Heather swallowed, knowing she’d hit a nerve, asked one question too many.

  “What started as a disagreement spiralled into a raging argument. I can’t even remember what it was about now. We both said things we didn’t mean, hurtful things I don’t wish to divulge. But it wasn’t something he’d said.”

  Heather could see the pain behind Beth’s eyes.

  “It was something he did.” She looked flustered, like there was more to be said, yet she stopped mid-sentence, not elaborating further.

  Instead, she picked up her mug and finished the last dregs of tea.

  “Well, I really must get off. Left the bab with me mam.”

  Heather could sense her desire to get away.

  “Tell Ruben I popped in with his mum’s washing, and I’ll ring him over the weekend.”

  Heather could feel the eagerness in Beth’s voice to lighten the conversation.

  “Best take Rock with me in any case; if you’re going out, no point him staying here to be on his own all night. Rocky, here,” she called, pulling a small retractable lead from her pocket and fastening it to his collar. “Right, I’ll be seeing ya later then.”

  Heather watched her leave with Rocky, closing the door behind them. She took a long breath, lay back on the settee and closed her eyes briefly, her mind an open book. How had life become so complicated? She felt somewhat at a disadvantage when up against Beth, her years not allowing her the maturity and life experiences to deal with Ruben’s complexities, the strange occurrences at the manor; and as for Frank, her mind wouldn’t even allow her to go there, her thoughts a maze of dead ends. Was she even sure she wanted Ruben now, with Beth always appearing to be on the sidelines, an intrusion? Perhaps it was not intentional on her part, but it loomed like a dark cloud, leaving many uncertainties as to her feelings.

  Heather had never felt quite as alone as she did now. The person she needed most at this moment was her mum, whom she loved dearly, but lately their relationship had gone astray and they’d lost that closeness, and she didn’t feel able to confide in her any more. She felt both her parents seemed to love the manor more than her, and although she knew that sounded slightly childish, it was how she felt. Was Ruben what she needed? she wondered. Maybe she should sleep with him; maybe that was the closeness she needed, and she was only holding back because she was scared of the unknown, somewhere she hadn’t been before. But she knew she couldn’t carry on as she was. Her life was a mess, and she was constantly going round in circles and ending up back at the same place. Not any more. For Heather Richardson things were going to change, and tonight was the night she was going to sleep with Ruben.

  Chapter Eight

  A Night to Remember

  “Oh bugger!” Heather said as she jumped up and looked at the time: 6.15 p.m. – three quarters of an hour and he’ll be here, she thought.

  She rushed to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I know everything is ready ... but where? she thought, opening one of the bedroom doors. No, this can’t be the one, she thought as she peered into a girly pink room with bunk beds. Her face lit up as she entered the master suite. The decor was slightly more feminine than Heather would have anticipated, with cream walls, except the feature wall, which was cream with a crimson rose pattern. Behind this was what she thought looked like a king-size bed, on which Ruben had sprinkled the same colour rose petals across a rich velvet duvet and matching pillowcases, the sweetness of their perfume dancing seductively in the air to meet her. A plush scarlet gown, befitting a romantic night out, hung elegantly from a mirrored wardrobe. Heather felt a rush of excitement, an inner glow.

  Returning to the bathroom, she quickly showered and threw her clothes in a laundry bag to take home. She scouted round for a hairdryer. Typical, she thought. After looking everywhere with no luck, she decided she was not going to let it ruin her evening. She sank down onto a padded stool and gazed at her face and wavy damp hair in the small dressing table mirror. There was even some make-up there waiting for her. Well, best make the most of it, she thought.

  “I can’t let a simple hairdryer ruin our evening, not when Ruben’s gone to so much trouble,” she said out loud, watching her reflection talking back to her as she scrunched her tousled hair between her fingers. As a rule, she’d brush it out ready for straightening, but on this occasion she decided to define the curls as it dried.

  “There, not bad at all,” she muttered, grinning at her reflection.

  She wasn’t too sure about the make-up, since it was not what she would usually have worn, but it was that or go without. She’d heard her mum use the expression ‘as pretty as pink’ on more than one occasion, and it appeared to be a colour that Ruben admired since he’d actually gone out and bought it for her himself. A quick touch of bronzer, but she knew the time was moving on, so she concentrated on her eyes. The pink eyeshadow was not looking too bad after some careful blending. Lipstick, and I’ll be done, and its only ten to seven, she thought, applying the first coat to her lips. She ran a comb carefully through her hair so as not to disturb the natural curls, and then quickly removed the dress from its hanger. The material felt cool against her skin as she stepped inside its fishtail skirt, pulling it up around her petite waist. It was as if it had been made for her, and she loved the off-the-shoulder style.

  Heather waltzed over to the wardrobe, where she stood admiring herself in its full-length mirror. She wasn’t vain as a rule, but on this occasion was more than happy with the reflection staring back at her. Stepping into a pair of black stilettos and picking up what looked like a designer clutch bag, she was pleased with the finishing touches to her outfit. Underneath the bag was a note and a solitary red rose, and she smiled a bittersweet smile as she read the note: For my girl xxx

  She couldn’t just leave the rose to die, and Ruben would never think to put it in water. Her eyes darted around the room for a makeshift vase, and she noticed a tall glass on the bedside cabinet to the left side of the bed, as luck would have it, half filled with water. Carefully picking up the rose and placing it in the glass, she noticed a smudge around its rim, and as she lifted it to take a closer look, she rubbed the mark with the tip of her finger. No, it couldn’t be... But there it was, a pink lipstick smudge. The same colour, maybe even the same lipstick, that she was wearing. An unthinkable explanation flashed through her head as she wondered what possible reason there would be for Beth’s lips to have touched a glass next to Ruben’s bed. Surely neither of them would sink that low, would they? No, of course not. Coincidental, obviously one of the many downfalls of residue left behind by the dishwasher.

  Lost in her thoughts, she never heard Ruben enter, and spooked by his reflection in the mirror she almost dropped the glass while he stood silently. She could see him admiring her beauty from the glint in his eyes.

  “Amazing, you look bloody amazing!” His eyes bored into her, and there was a breathlessness to his voice.

  “Likewise,” was Heather’s reply, as she admired him in his very sophisticated black suit, having taken great care when choosing a tie, its colour a perfect match for her dress.

  She remembered being taken by his looks the very first time she set eyes on him, but tonight he’d stepped into a different league. His blonde spikey hair was sleek and gelled back, his aftershave sweet and heady, reeking of expense.

  He reached out his hand, and Heather obliged.

  “This is only the start of our evening,” he whispered, leading her back through to the living room. Locking the door behind them, he led her down the stairs. “Your chauffer awaits.”

  Heather’s eyes lit up.

  “It fits the moment, don’t you think?” As Ruben spoke, she felt his hand moving slowly around her waist, his warm breath caressing her earlobe. “Italian vintage.”

  A cream soft-topped beauty sat stationary, her engine purring. A chauffeur stepped out from the driver’s side, opened the passenger door and held out his gloved hand. Heather could smell the richness o
f the leather oozing from within and sank into its soft interior, to be joined seconds later by Ruben.

  “With a vintage car, comes vintage champagne,” he said.

  Already corked, he carefully filled two fluted glasses, while the chauffeur folded back the soft top to expose them to the warm evening.

  “Here’s to us, and a night to remember,” Ruben toasted.

  Taking a sip, he leant forward and she could taste the champagne’s sweetness on his lips as they met with hers. He took her hand in his and she moved closer, nestling into his shoulder. Tilting her head, she looked up into his eyes.

  “I told you, you were in for a treat,” he mumbled, a soft undertone to his voice.

  Heather breathed in the heady fragrance of summer, a red blush to the sky predicting the day ahead. She smiled. The car never exceeded 30mph, and she felt Ruben loosen her hand before lovingly wrapping her up in his arms. Her soft curls danced around her face in the ebb and flow of the breeze as their scenic journey continued, gradually leaving the countryside and its tranquillity behind them. Music, traffic; they were now passing through busy roads, and the bustle of bars and restaurants.

  “You taking me for a meal?”

  “Later, maybe,” he replied, placing his index finger to her lips. “Shhh, close your eyes,” he whispered.

  Heather didn’t argue, lost in the ambience of the moment. Complying, she sat silently in anticipation.

  After a while the car drew to a halt, and she heard the key turn and the engine be switched off. She felt the seat rise slightly as Ruben stepped out. Taking her hand once more, Heather looked down, making sure she didn’t trip on her dress. He smiled as he helped her from the car. Exhaust smoke, cigarettes and a compendium of takeaway foods merging in the air, vying for first place, had replaced the scents of the country. She tingled inside, feeling his warm kiss on the back of her hand, moving up slowly towards her cheek.