by Jodi Taylor
‘Leon? Leon?’
‘You sound astonished. Perhaps we should take a moment to discuss who you were expecting? And why are you sitting in the dark?’
Quite automatically, I said, ‘I fell asleep watching the TV.’
‘Bad habit. Shall I put the light on?’
I nodded. In a dark room. There’s no hope for me.
The light clicked on and I stared at him. It was Leon, dressed in battered Time Police armour. His hair was now almost completely silver and he was wearing it brushed back from his face, which was deeply lined with weariness. He had a fresh scar on one cheekbone and another on his chin.
He shrugged off his pack, dropped it to the floor and grinned at me. ‘Don’t I get a hug?’
I couldn’t speak, but my feet moved of their own accord and I nearly knocked him off his feet.
‘That’s my girl,’ he said, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair. ‘You smell so good. It’s been a long time and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to see you before this. I’ve missed you so much. How’s Matthew? How long have I been away?’
I didn’t know what to do. What to say to him. I couldn’t get my head around what was happening. Leon was still hunting Ronan. He didn’t know he was dead. So I said nothing.
‘Talk to me,’ he said,
Still with my head buried in his shoulder, I shook my head. He laughed a little, tightened his embrace, and we stood together for a long time.
Eventually, he said, ‘I’m sorry I’m cold and wet, but I’ve just rescued three idiots from a snowstorm at Stonehenge. I thought I’d just check in and make sure you made it back all right.’
Oh my God. Sometime last year, the three of us, Peterson, Markham and I had managed to lose ourselves in a blizzard. We’d been on the point of unconsciousness when Leon turned up and saved us all. He appeared out of nowhere, picked us up, dusted us off, pointed us in the right direction and disappeared. But not before telling me how much he’d missed me. Pondering this remark afterwards, I’d come to the conclusion I might have died. It had never occurred to me in a million years that he might be the one who’d died.
Still with my head buried in his chest, I nodded.
‘Are you ever coming out?’ And I could hear the smile in his voice.
Still with my head buried in his chest, I shook my head. He smelled of hot metal and sweat and Leon, and I was never going to let him go. I could feel the melting snow seeping through my T-shirt and clung more tightly. I had been convinced it was me who had died. It wasn’t supposed to be Leon. It was never supposed to be Leon.
‘I can’t stay, Max. We’re closing in on him. Any day now. His pod’s shot and he must be nearly finished. We’re all rendezvousing in an hour and then we’ll make one final push to corner him. I just came to tell you – it’s over. I’ll be home by this time tomorrow.’
No, he wouldn’t. He’d never come home again. Tomorrow they’d catch Ronan and he would kill them all. I clutched at him, gripping so tightly that it hurt my hands. Every part of me wanted to tell him not to go. And why. But I couldn’t. In my personal timeline, it had already happened. And it was about to happen in his as well and there was nothing I could do about it. Not unless I wanted to bring catastrophe down upon us all.
I remember thinking it was such a good job he was already wet. He wouldn’t feel my tears soaking through his clothing.
He was already picking up his pack. ‘I have to go. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have come at all, but I wanted to let you know it’s nearly over. I’m just going to stick my head around Matthew’s door and then I’ll be off.’
He gently moved my hands away and crossed to Matthew’s room. He opened the door and looked in, stood still for a moment or two and then softly closed it again.
‘How is he?’
I was proud of my voice. ‘Absolutely fine. He rarely drinks from the toilet now. On the downside, he has taken to peeing in the shower.’
He laughed. ‘There’s always something, isn’t there. Don’t worry, I’ll sort that out when I get back.’
He shouldered his pack and looked around. ‘That dead dog on the wardrobe is going to have to go. I’m really not sure I can live with that.’
He was moving towards the door. He was leaving.
I ran after him and seized his arm. ‘Leon …’ and stopped. What could I say? What could I possibly say? If I threw myself into his arms, sobbing and begging him not to go, then he’d want to know why and I couldn’t tell him. I mustn’t do anything to change my past. His future. He was going to his death and I couldn’t say a word.
This is the downside to time travel. Yes, you get to see wonderful things. But not all knowledge is good. Especially knowledge of events you can’t change. Leon’s death had already happened. There was no way I could save him. All I could do was ensure his last memories of me were happy ones. In that moment, it occurred to me that time travel was an absolute bitch.
He smiled and said, ‘You have to let go of me so I can go. If I can’t go then I can’t come back again.’
I hung on even tighter.
‘It’s only one day, Max. Just twenty-four hours.’ He put his hands over mine and gently pulled them away.
I could only hope he put my distress down to his imminent departure. ‘Leon, please – you have to take care.’
‘I always do,’ he said, gently. ‘I have a family to come back to. Make sure you’re both here when I do.’
I nodded.
He smiled down at me, his blue eyes very bright. ‘This time tomorrow, Max. Be ready for me.’
Leon died thinking he’d be home this time tomorrow.
I found a dreadful cold strength from somewhere.
‘I will,’ I said, without a tremor. ‘We’ll have a quiet evening. Just the three of us. And a special dinner. With your favourite wine. And you’ll be home again.’
He grinned at me. That’s what I always remember. That last, tired, triumphant grin. He kissed me, oh so gently, and before I could say anything else, he was out of the door. I heard his footsteps clattering down the stairs.
The whole encounter had taken only a few minutes. No more. I’m still not entirely certain I didn’t dream it.
For Leon, there was no tomorrow. He was already dead. I knew he was dead. I’d seen him die.
I spent the next day alone. I couldn’t bear to have anyone near me. I sat in my room, straining my ears for his step on the stairs. In the evening, even though I knew it was futile, that there was no hope, that I was only hurting myself by doing this, I put Matthew to bed early. If there was even the slightest chance, then I was going to cling to it. Even though I knew that what I’d seen last night was little more than an echo, I showered and brushed my hair. I put clean sheets on the bed. I lit a few candles and then I sat down to wait.
He didn’t come.
More time passed. I went into Rushford for my new glasses. I chose horn rims, telling Peterson they made me look both intelligent and sexy. He patted my shoulder and told me he’d always admired my capacity for self-delusion.
We had developed a routine to get us through the days. We would lunch together, just as we’d done last year, when he, Markham and I had got ourselves into a little trouble and been ostracised by the rest of the unit. The three of us had stuck together like glue – mostly because no one else would have us – and even after we were reinstated, we’d continued the tradition of eating together whenever we could. Now, with Markham dead, it was just the two of us.
We didn’t do anything mawkish like always setting a third place at the table – Markham would have wet himself laughing over that one – but I don’t think he was ever far away from our thoughts.
We worked closely together, in and out of each other’s offices all day long. I tried hard to persuade him to swap Miss Lee for the lovely Mrs Shaw and all three of them shrieked with laughter over that one. He and Mrs Shaw adored each other. He gave her flowers and she brought him chocolate
biscuits with his tea. They had the sort of relationship Miss Lee and I could only aspire to. Well, I could aspire. She couldn’t bloody care less.
I was dictating one morning when I became aware she wasn’t paying attention. She was staring out of the window. I opened my mouth to demand she do at least a little work before knocking off and going home when she said, ‘I think the Time Police are here.’
‘Why?’
‘How should I know?’
A second later, my telephone rang.
Both Miss Lee and I looked at it.
‘Well, answer it,’ I said.
‘It’s your phone,’ she said.
‘It’s your job,’ I said.
‘You’re the closest,’ she said.
‘You’re the assistant,’ I said.
How long we could have gone on like that was anyone’s guess. And it’s not as if we didn’t both know who would be answering the bloody thing no matter who had the last word. As it was, however, it stopped ringing. She fixed me with a look of triumph. I fixed her with the look of a defeated employer.
Dr Bairstow spoke in my ear. ‘Dr Maxwell, are you in your office?’
‘I am, sir.’
‘You do not appear to be answering your telephone.’
‘I was temporarily unable to do so,’ I said. ‘And my assistant was unable to recollect the series of actions needed to perform this complex function.’
Or indeed, any function at all.
‘Please report to my office at your earliest convenience.’
‘Yes, sir. Do I need to bring anything with me?’ Which, I’ve discovered is a great way of asking what it’s all about without actually asking what it’s all about.
He said, ‘The Time Police would like a word with you,’ which was enough to wipe the smile off anyone’s face.
Mrs Partridge was waiting for me. ‘This way please, Dr Maxwell.’
Sitting at his briefing table were Dr Bairstow, Commander Hay and Captain Farenden. Again.
The Commander opened the batting. ‘Dr Maxwell, may I express my regret over Chief Farrell’s death. And that of Major Guthrie and Mr Markham.’
I nodded. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry about Miss Van Owen.’
‘Thank you. I know that it must feel as if your world has ended, and I am reluctant to seem to be adding to your difficulties, but there is an important matter I must discuss with you. I always intended to speak to you and your husband about this and then … well … Chief Farrell died and I wanted to give you some time before approaching you, but now I understand from Dr Bairstow that the question of Matthew’s future is being considered, and I have a … a proposition to put to you. I do beg you will give me a hearing.’
I didn’t like the sound of this.
‘I should say now I don’t expect you to make a decision today. Or in the near future either. Both I and Dr Bairstow feel you should take all the time you need before making what is going to be a very difficult choice.’
What choice? What decision?
She appeared to take a very deep breath.
‘Max, we at the Time Police have given this matter a great deal of thought. I would like you to consider what I am about to say very carefully. I am sure your first instinct will be to reject it out of hand, but I beg that you will take the time to think about it.’
Shit. I didn’t like the sound of this at all.
‘We propose that your son comes to live with us.’
She paused, as if bracing herself for a protest, but to tell the truth, I was too gobsmacked to speak.
‘We have several reasons for proposing what to you must seem an impossible course of action, and in truth, I don’t think we have any choice.’
I found a voice. ‘Of course we have a choice. Ronan is gone – there is no reason why either Matthew or I shouldn’t lead a normal life.’
I threw Dr Bairstow a look. Surely it was no coincidence that the Time Police were here with this ridiculous idea so soon after I had announced I was considering taking Matthew away from St Mary’s.
He said gravely, ‘I know what you are thinking, Max, but Commander Hay and I have been discussing her proposal for a little while now, and I am asking you, as a long-standing colleague and friend, to hear her out.’
I could do that. I could listen politely all the way to the end and then say no. I nodded.
She continued. ‘Our plan is that Matthew comes to live with us. For him, the benefits will be enormous. We will make ourselves responsible for his education and I guarantee it will be excellent. Under our care, he will be safe and secure. I categorically guarantee that. And, probably best of all, Max, he will be among people who understand who and what he is. He will never have to pretend or lie about his background. He can relax and be himself.’
‘And what exactly do you think that is?’
She was silent for a while. ‘I’ll be honest, we’re not sure. Oh please, don’t misunderstand me. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a perfectly normal little boy. Yes, he has a few problems at the moment, but they’re the result of his upbringing and can be dealt with.’
‘So your interest in him is because…?’
‘Is because he was born between times. Or out of time, if you like. Between one moment and the next.’
‘Aren’t we all?’
‘Yes, we are, but Matthew, your son, was born in that split second when no time existed at all. Interesting, don’t you think? We believe he might possess certain gifts relating to the reading of Time and it would seem that these talents have already begun to manifest themselves. For instance, I believe that you have given him the Time Map to play with.’
‘Well, not the Time Map…’ I said, not meeting Dr Bairstow’s gaze.
‘Of course not, but I believe he has already learned to manipulate the data.’
‘Just randomly. He’s too young to know what he’s doing.’
‘Of course,’ she said again, ‘but that’s a gift that should not be ignored.’
‘And certainly not by the Time Police,’ I said, brightly.
She didn’t rise to the bait.
‘I understand this must be difficult for you. You lost your baby then he reappears as an eight-year-old boy.’
‘And now you’re proposing to take him away again,’ I said, feeling that this had gone on long enough. ‘Not going to happen.’
‘No, no, Max. Please do not misunderstand me. There is absolutely no question of you never seeing him again. We would allow regular visits. Once a month at the very least. He can come to you at St Mary’s or you can visit him to reassure yourself as to his living conditions. We are very conscious both of the need for him to form a good relationship with his mother, and of his need for safety and security which I think we can all, between us, provide. You would be able to see him at any time.’
‘But as things stand at the moment, I can see him all the time.
‘That is true, but…’
‘And, just so everyone in this room is perfectly clear, because it would be a tragedy if anyone was labouring under any sort of misapprehension – no one has the authority to “allow” me to do anything pertaining to my son.’
I hadn’t meant the words to ring around the room like that, but I was quite pleased with the effect.
‘Of course not. I apologise if, in my haste to reassure you, I expressed myself badly.’
I let the silence hang around for a while. Just to let the guilt settle. She’d been clumsy. She knew it. The Time Police were not noted for their subtlety. They’d handled the affair with Clive Ronan very badly. No need to mention that. It’s always far more effective to let these things hang in the air, unspoken. I never say to Leon, ‘Told you so.’
Said to Leon. I never said to Leon. No more present tense.
I stared down at my hands, shutting everyone out. One thought ran through everything. I won’t lose Matthew again. I just won’t.
Something of this must have shown in my face because she said gently, ‘I do underst
and Max. We all do. This is not an easy decision for you to make.’
‘I can’t decide this now. I must talk to Matthew and hear what he has to say. I should tell you that if he doesn’t want to go then that will be the end of it. And it won’t be soon. He still doesn’t know about … about his father.’
‘I agree. I ask only that you allow me to speak to him as well, to make my own case.’
I hesitated.
‘We’ve known each other a while now, Max. We sat down at the same table after the Battle of St Mary’s and thrashed out the working agreement which has served us both so well. We trusted each other then. Can we not do so now?’
She was right. Yes, I was prejudiced against the Time Police and I had good reasons for that. They’d hunted Leon and me up and down the timeline, doing untold damage along the way – and everything that had happened to us recently – Helen, Ian, Markham, Leon – all those deaths were the direct result of their monumental cock-up over Clive Ronan. And now they wanted me to give up my son to them.
But, said the voice of reason, they’re not all bad all the time. They saved you and Matthew when that bastard Ronan had marooned you in History. They took in Van Owen when she desperately needed a home and direction. You named Matthew after Captain Ellis. Commander Hay isn’t Colonel Albay. They’re not the same organisation they once were.
All this was true. Part of me argued it wouldn’t take much for them to revert back to their old ways, but that’s true of anyone. We all change to suit existing circumstances. We evolve.
She said gently, ‘Perhaps you would find it reassuring to know we have several other youngsters in our care. In addition to all the benefits I have described, he would have the company of his contemporaries – people his own age around him.’
I drew a breath. ‘I can’t decide this now.’
‘I understand. This is difficult for you. Take as much time as you need.’
Until he was eighteen years old would probably not be acceptable.
I said slowly, ‘I would like to take advice on this.’
She inclined her head. ‘Of course. And thank you for not rejecting this proposal out of hand.’