Lily didn’t bother knocking. She just burst through the door. We stared at each other like wary cats.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She stepped forward and wrapped me in her arms. “I thought you were dead.”
I pinched my eyes shut, leaned into her neck, and breathed in the smell of my best friend.
She pulled us apart. “Sit,” she said.
I did as I was ordered. She slammed the door and closed the blinds, even though it wasn’t yet five o’clock. Then she pulled a bottle from her bag.
“I’ll get the glasses,” I offered, already anticipating the bubbles against my throat.
“You stay. We’ve done this often enough I know where the glasses are kept.”
I sat and tried to conjure up a story good enough for her to believe. What sort of accident had my father had? A riding accident maybe, or he could have crashed his farm truck into a tree. I guess, at a push, I could pretend he’d been bitten by a snake, but I hated lying like this. Not only did one lie follow another in an endless stream, but, when I thought about it, my lies sounded farcical. The police might buy it, but Lily knew me too well to believe I’d run away from Doral Castle, away from the film shoot leaving my clothes, wallet, phone, and keys behind. I’m an organized person, a teacher. The last thing I am is forgetful and impulsive.
Lily handed me a champagne flute then pulled a seat out for herself. “Talk.”
“Well,” I said, looking down, “when we were still at the castle someone came and found me and said that there was a message for me: Phone Australia immediately. I used a phone in the castle, called collect, and Mum answered. ‘Come now,’ she said, ‘right now. Jump on a plane tonight, because Dad mightn’t pull through.’”
I raised my eyes needing to see how I was doing.
Lily had her arms folded and was shaking her head. “Why does your story already sound like a load of crap?”
“Does it?”
“Of course it does. You’d never have let that teaching job slip through your fingers, not without a fight. Even in Australia, you’d have been able to contact the school and explain your situation. And don’t tell me again how remote your parents’ farm is. Nowhere is that remote anymore. Caitlin, you’ve been missing for three, nearly four months! In all that time you could have gotten to a phone. Why didn’t you ring me or ring the school? Are you saying that your parent’s farm doesn’t have a landline? It must because your Mum phoned you at the castle, remember? And you phoned her back on it, remember? Are you seriously telling me that you never went near a city in all that time? And how do you explain the plane tickets? According to the police, your credit card hasn’t been touched and nor has your bank account.”
I could answer that one. “You know I always keep far too much cash around this place. You’re always saying that I’ll get robbed one of these days. I still keep a stash of notes hidden.”
“Enough for a return ticket to Australia, and months of spending? Not that much you don’t.”
My voice sounded high-pitched and squeaky. “Mum paid. The tickets were prepaid and waiting for me at the airport.”
“Ha. You must have a new mother, then. Because that sounds like the last thing the mother you’ve told me about would do. Save your Australian story for everyone else.”
I took a deep swig of champagne. “Okay. But what if the truth is far too ludicrous to believe? Wouldn’t you rather hear the lie and go on feeling secure in your world, safe in the rules . . . ?”
Lily slammed the glass down on the table. “I’ll take ridiculous, any day. Who wants head-in-the-sand?”
I swallowed another mouthful. I was about to need all the alcoholic help I could get. “So, Lily dearest, tell me what you suspect happened. I know you too well. You’ll have a theory, for sure.”
I caught a tear in her eye. “For most of the time, I thought you’d been murdered. But I had a hard time convincing the police. They couldn’t find any evidence of a crime. Nothing nasty turned up on the castle cameras. There was nothing to make the police believe in foul play, other than the fact that you were gone. Apparently, it’s not uncommon for young women to meet a man, maybe someone they knew from another place—like Australia—and run off with him.”
“Ha. Is that what you think? I met someone on the film shoot, someone I knew well, and ran away that night with him?”
She was looking deep into my eyes. “Not one word of it. At least I didn’t, until right now. But now I’m not so sure. You seem different. You’re more self-assured. It’s like you’re here and not here. And why are you acting like a woman in love?”
Why is it so hard to keep love hidden? I might not have spoken the words to Lily but my love for Bern was there in my eyes and in my smile and in the rosy glow of my cheeks. It showed up in the flushed skin on my neck. All I had to do was think of him, or remember how we were together under his covers, and my cheeks pinkened. I’d only been home a few hours and already I was missing him.
“Yes, I’m in love.”
Her eyes flared. “Really? I believe you.”
“Yes.”
“That’s fantastic, Caitlin. Why all the secrecy? Where were you, all that time? I know you weren’t in Doral Village because I would have found you. And who the hell is he?”
“Yes, that’s the difficult bit, the bit that takes some explaining.”
She topped up my glass, hoping more bubbles would help. “I’ve got all night, hon, take your time.”
I gulped again. “I’d love to tell you the truth but there’s no point. You will think I’ve lost my mind, that I need pills. It’s simple, really. To believe my story, you need to be, well, a different sort of person. Not a teacher. Not someone who’s focused on fact and logic. You need to be artistic and a dreamer.” I reached out and gripped her arm. “Honestly, you know how much I want to tell you what happened to me. I’d love to have someone I could talk to about all this. But I don’t want to read ‘crazy person’ in your eyes. Don’t bother denying it. If I tell you the truth, you will think I’m nuts.”
Her face twisted in anger. “That’s not fair, Caitlin. You’re my best friend. I need to know the truth. I’ve been so worried about you.”
I sighed. “If I tell you the truth, everything will change between us. I won’t be the Caitlin you know anymore. Are you prepared for that?”
“It’s already happened. Neither of us can go back to how we were.”
I thought about her words for a moment. “You’re right, as usual. I’m not the same person who left Doral Castle all those months ago. Since then, I’ve fallen in love, I’ve seen things I should never have seen, been places I should never have been. I’ve done something dreadful too, truly dreadful. The sort of thing that the Caitlin you know would never do. But you know what, I wouldn’t swap the last few months for anything.”
She looked down at the table and wiped a drop of wine away from the wood. “I wish I could say the same. I crave adventure. Why didn’t you take me along, too?”
I giggled. “Because, dear girl, I didn’t know that I was embarking on the biggest adventure of my life, until it happened. But, if you really, truly what an adventure like mine, I’ll tell you how to get one.”
She finished all the bubbles in the glass. “Please.”
I nodded. “Little by little, I’ll tell you. Seriously, Lily, it really is too much to handle at once. I don’t mean that it’s too much to say, I mean that it is too much to believe. All I’ll agree to do is tell you a small amount each time we get together. My fantastic story can only be handled in small doses. Truly.”
“Okay, if I have to, I’ll agree to that.”
“Right,” I said, wondering what to tell her first. “This is how my crazy adventure began . . .” I told her about the room I believed was the original kitchen in Do
ral and how I’d chosen a costume from the cupboard and sat on the bench and how everything changed after that.
“You can’t leave it there.”
“I am. Let’s talk about something else now.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Too bad. You must. Now, what am I going to do for work, any ideas? I’ve lost my teaching position. I’ve got to pay the rent somehow.”
“You know who has your job?”
“No.”
“One of the guides in Doral Castle. She was one of those women that handled the high school kids. Apparently, she used to be a history teacher, and when you went missing, she stepped into your job as a relief teacher. She’s got a long-term relief position at that school now.”
“Okay, that’s sad.”
“Nonsense, girl. It means that there’s a vacancy for a school guide at Doral Castle. You could apply. It will give you something to do till the next bunch of teaching positions are advertised.”
“See, that’s one of the reasons that you’re my best friend, because you’re so smart. First thing in the morning, I’m off to Doral again.”
Chapter 21
Caitlin
I did as Lily suggested and applied for the position of tour/educational guide in Doral Castle. I got it, too—on a temporary basis. I’d been back in the twenty-first century for about six weeks and had finally told Lily all of my tale. She didn’t rant and call me stupid or delusional either. I think that by drip-feeding her information, she was able to process one highly improbably event after another. After each instalment she’d spend the rest of day and the few that followed dreaming up scenarios of what would follow. When I gave her my next instalment, often what I said was less crazy that what she’d dreamed up. In the end, she wanted to believe the tale so much, she didn’t dare doubt it. My “truth” was just too colorful and tempting to not believe in.
As time went on, I thought the passing weeks would mend my broken heart. Everyone says that time heals, only, it didn’t in my case. After six weeks back, I was missing Bern as much now or more than when I’d arrived. Time hadn’t let me forget Storr’s death, either. I replayed his murder over and over in my head during the long, lonely hours of night. If I’d come back to forget, to distance myself from the crime, then it wasn’t working. But in the daytime, I was able to push Storr’s bleeding face from my thoughts. It wasn’t like that with Bern. I wasn’t quite so good at forgetting him. I didn’t even need to be asleep to see his face. He was in every shadow, his shape hidden in every crowd. When the wind blew hard or strangers cried out in the street, I fancied that I heard him chanting my name. I missed him like I’d miss a leg or any other part of my body I’d lost suddenly.
There was another thing wrong with being back too, something I hadn’t anticipated. The life I’d strived so hard to create for myself turned out to be empty, hollow and somehow meaningless. Everything in my world was ordered and in place—just like I thought I wanted. This was what I believed would make me happy: a life of dependability and safety. Every day I took school children around Doral Castle and explained the history, the kings and queens, the wars, the big events. I spent my days talking about battles and thinking about my burly Highlander. I spoke to the schoolchildren about the importance of a good crop and while I was lecturing, I was thinking of running in the fields chasing the peasant children. When I spoke to the school groups about medieval diseases and lack of modern medicine, I was remembering Elspeth and how we’d boiled up willow bark. I smiled remembering the relief we bought to our patients.
I’m not sure when I started stockpiling antibiotics. I’d go to one doctor in one village with a fictitious complaint, then to another in the neighboring area, then another. I reasoned that, you never know when you might need antibiotics in a hurry. No delving into my own motives was allowed.
I already knew much about medieval Scotland but I learned more, dug deeper, and memorized as much as I could. After work I’d read up on ancient farming practices, and on how to home-birth children, how to set broken bones, how to diagnose ailments, and most importantly, how to make natural remedies.
Throughout this time, Lily kept a close eye on me. She claimed I was acting like a depressed person, because suddenly I had no interest in nights out. She said that I was in mourning over my lost love, and over the disappointment of missing out on my coveted teaching position. She was half right. I ached for Bern and not having him around ruined every day; it soured every little thing I did. For me, the joy in life was gone and no matter how hard I tried, the contentment I’d once found in the simplest things, was nowhere to be found.
That morning, I stood in Doral Castle in my business suit, talking to yet another group of high school students.
I’d been talking about The Treaty of Perth when I noticed them fidget. I looked around the whole group and saw the same thing on every face. They were all bored, their expressions mirroring how I felt inside.
“Do you know what time the medieval folk in a castle go to bed?”
Their heads spun around and, for a change, no one had a smart answer.
“Sunset,” I responded. “That’s the usual time. Castle people eat supper just before bed. The meal is light so they can sleep. Then they pop off to bed. They fall asleep around eight o’clock at night.”
Every student was looking my way now. “Ha-ha,” they laughed, “just like a little kid.”
“But, the thing is, the medieval folk don’t sleep the whole night through. No. They wake after midnight. The period from eight till midnight is called First Sleep.”
“Miss, do they get out of bed at midnight?”
“Yes, sometimes. Some go to the chapel to pray, but many don’t.”
One of the boys yelled, “I reckon I know what they get up to after midnight.”
I smiled, knowing that he wasn’t wrong. “The Second Sleep begins at about two in the morning and lasts till sunrise.”
They laughed and jeered and shared lewd jokes. I barely listened. I was drawn back to those two precious hours of lovemaking between midnight and two. Bern and I loved deep, slow, kissing. I missed the feel of his muscled chest under my palm. When he stretched over me, I felt so small and safe against his huge frame and strength. Most of all, I adored seeing how happy I made him. I jerked back to the present, feeling myself roar with longing inside.
Enough torture. I was done here. I’ve had this! For the first time in six weeks, I was eager again, desperate even for the next stage of my life.
I funneled the teenagers along, and into another line with another castle guide. Then I darted back to my car and grabbed the bag I kept stowed in the boot. With shaking fingers, I typed out a message for Mum, telling her not to worry. From now on, I was going to be safe and happy, always. I sent Lily’s message next. I apologized for doing this to her again. I explained that I’d changed and didn’t fit in here anymore. I couldn’t stay. I assured her that I was going to a better place, to a time that suited me more. Then I threw my phone into the moat.
My feet couldn’t carry me quickly enough. I ran and stumbled and ran some more until I was deep within the bowels of Doral Castle, flying down the narrow back staircase. It was easy enough to find the right room, and the bench seat, too. I ripped my way into the Viking costume praying that the magic would work one last time. Last thing I did was shove my many bottles of antibiotics into the leather pouch tied to my waist. All ready. I shut my eyes and asked God to let me go home. If He let me do this, I promised to spend the rest of my days working to improve the lives of everyone in and around Tor Castle. Nothing had ever mattered so much.
Then, I sat on the bench seat. Nothing happened. Please, God, let this work. I lay down, just like I did the first time and closed my eyes.
Chapter 22
Caitlin
I’m not sure if I had some sort of mi
cro sleep or not, but I was suddenly aware of a shift in temperature. I opened my eyes, then closed them again. Thank the lord. I was back in the past, back in Silis the Peasant’s paddock. The animal enclosure was still empty just as it had been when I left the past.
I stood, almost weak with relief. The smells of the natural world are stronger in the past, perhaps because there are no cars to leave a trail of exhaust fumes in the air and no shops, nor take-out food stores or huge crowds of rushing people. Instead, I smelled the salt from the sea and the rich pasture ripening under the sun. I fancied that I could even smell the pure rainwater falling in droplets.
The crops grow at a slower pace here than in my world: the cows, sheep, goats, and chickens are not hot-housed and do not mature as quickly. They are smaller, too. The meat, eggs, cheese, and milk taste better, though, richer in flavor.
Looking around, I saw a few peasants milling near the huts with new thatching. Gazing into the distance, I saw a rider on a large horse. He was a man wearing a plaid and he was galloping away from the village with his wild hair flying. My brain must be addled. How can it be him? But my heart told me it was.
I screamed into the wind, “Bern, Bern, Bern. It’s me! Please, Bern . . .” He grew smaller and smaller.
I ran then, fighting my way out of the penned paddock, headed in his direction. But he didn’t hear me, couldn’t have because he was drifting away. The wind in the trees and the thump of his horse’s hooves would have drowned out the cry of my voice. I knew it was no good, but I tried again anyway, screaming out his name.
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