Hide in Time (14 page)

She still felt drowsy as she stood in
the centre of the town. Not surprising really, she thought. Better
hurry up, though. Foremost was the need to keep hold of her memories.
She recited the names of the people she knew and clients in her
agency. She chuckled at the memory of Xandra in the restaurant with
Andy. Now here they both were at “Foxhills”. She hoped.
She’d go around to the back of the house where it was easier to
enter unseen. A smile hovered on her lips. Invisible. But she still
had to be careful. She wasn’t a ghost and couldn’t float
through walls; she had to open the doors. She looked at her watch. It
was afternoon tea time. She’d drunk some of her water already
and eaten a chocolate bar, but maybe, just maybe, she would be able
to snatch a piece of cake. She’d bring a bigger bag next time.
Next time? What was she saying?

She looked through the windows of the
morning room – it was safe to enter. She shut the door behind
her and slid through to the kitchen. She could smell fish in one part
of the kitchen, warm cake in another, and earthy smells from the
vegetables coming from the larder. She’d know what day it was
by what they were eating for dinner tonight, so she put her head
around the larder door. There was the remainder of a cooked, cold
joint of beef. It was Monday. It was all so different from her own
neat, small kitchen which was plenty big enough for her. Mrs Lamb
came in from the garden and began clattering around with a tray and
one of the footmen appeared, it was Jones, awaiting her efforts. Oh
good, thought Laura, food was on its way.

Laura took a deep breath and prepared
her emotions for seeing Adam. She drifted out into the hall and
across to the closed door that led to the sitting room and listened.
She could hear only a gentle burble of female voices – Xandra
and Catherine. Jones approached with the tray. Three cups, thought
Laura, as she swiftly followed him through the opened door. Mr
Leigh-Fox was there but Adam wasn’t. She was pleased to observe
that Jack wasn’t there either.

It was at this point that a kerfuffle
could be heard in the hall. The overworked footman scuttled through
the hall to open the great double doors in response to the thumping
of fists.

“I’m home.”

Jack. And he’d been drinking.

Laura watched the reactions of the
tea-takers. Catherine was embarrassed and fidgeted. Mr Leigh-Fox was
untroubled. Laura looked from one to the other and was aghast as
Xandra said, “Perhaps we should stake a claim to these goodies
quickly.” Stake a claim! Goodies! Such inappropriate speech.
She wondered if she spoke inappropriately herself in the twenty-first
century. Not very often now, surely? No wonder people had looked at
her as though she was some sort of curiosity. Listening to Xandra was
alarming.

The door burst open and Jack stumbled
in. “Damn cold in here. Light the fire.” He turned and
held the door wide and yelled, “Fire, fire!” Then he
turned to Xandra and said, “There. That’ll have them all
running.”

“With buckets of water, I
shouldn’t wonder,” said Mr Leigh-Fox.

Laura could feel a giggle rising –
nothing had changed. How was Xandra coping? Good, she was stifling a
giggle too. What on earth was she making of Mr Leigh-Fox? Laura had
had the benefit of discussing him with Matt. Matt had said his
unusual behaviour was possibly a reaction to stress, perhaps some
sort of obsessive behaviour. Laura could not recall precisely but it
helped to know there were people who could understand. She certainly
couldn't.

It was reassuring to see Xandra looking
well, though there was still the faintest sign of the bruise on her
face which told Laura that this Monday was straight after Xandra
arrived. Good. Laura had come through the tunnel late on Friday
October 2nd and, less than twenty-four hours later, she had arrived
on the Monday. So confusing. She wished she knew in which year Xandra
had arrived. Catherine looked much the same; Laura even recognized
the dress she was wearing. Could it still be 1814? So many years had
passed since she had lived here, years spent in a world of cars, not
horses; computers, not quills; yet it seemed it might still be 1814
here. How very odd. She must remember to look dates up on the
internet calendars before she came again, if she knew the day and the
date she could work out the year.

Suddenly her stomach lurched. Adam had
just walked past the open door carrying what looked like a rolled-up
rug on his shoulder. Nothing had changed there either. Of course, now
she knew…

A minute later, Adam walked through the
door and towards her. Now she could stare at him all she wanted. Now
she didn’t have to look down demurely. Laura felt her mind
jumble with her body.

It was the look on Xandra’s face
that caught her attention next. She was clearly smitten. Laura had
never seen Xandra look like this before. Xandra recovered herself
quickly; it was unlikely anyone else had noticed, though Adam would,
he missed nothing.

Catherine leapt up. “Adam, where
have you been? We were so worried.”

“Indubitably,” said his
father.

“Forgive me,” was all Adam
replied.

Oh, I do, I do, thought Laura. If only
you knew.

“Fire, fire!” yelled Jack.

Adam went to the bell pull and it
seemed that the footman had been waiting outside for he appeared
immediately. “Lay a fire in the hearth, Johnson, and light it
before dinner. Is there a fire in the dining room?”

“No, sir.”

“Lay and light one after you have
brought more tea here.” The footman looked uncomfortable. “A
small fire will do fine,” he said quietly.

Adam sauntered over to Jack who had
slumped on the floral sofa by the window. “Come on, Jack, take
a little tea and then repair to your room to rest before dinner. I
shall be doing just that.”

“You interfering…”
Jack tried to think of a suitably insulting word but couldn’t
manage it. Instead he drew his feet up to his chest and toppled over
on the sofa, closed his eyes, and within minutes was snoring. Adam
looked out into the hall and called Johnson. “When you’ve
attended to the fire and the tea, Johnson, call Jones, then together
carry Mr Jack to his bed.”

The fire was lit, more tea brought and
enjoyed, and an explanation given by Adam of his absence. Laura
watched the company’s reactions. Xandra was clearly evaluating
it and finding it inadequate – just as she herself had always
done. Mr Leigh-Fox’s eyes were glazed – as if no
explanation was expected – he merely murmured, “As
always, Adam, as always.” Laura turned those few words over in
her mind. She had invariably assumed they had meant he was
unimpressed by Adam’s behaviour but found it inevitable, but
could they mean that he knew? Dear Catherine – she just looked
adoringly at her fine, big brother and said how wonderful it was to
have the Tree of Life returned. The old Indian rug – had Jack
attempted to sell that too? While everyone’s attention was
taken by the removal of Jack, Laura knew that if ever there was time
to take a piece of cake it was now. But as she stared at the lovely
caraway seed cake, she felt sick, and she remembered how when Adam
had first kissed her she had been unable to eat properly for a week.
So many years had passed but still his very presence held so much
power.

Adam took his leave and said he would
return for dinner. Laura followed him upstairs, and watched as he lay
down on his bed and closed his eyes. He’d probably had no sleep
for days what with sorting out Jack and whoever he’d retrieved
the rug from. Then she climbed carefully on to the old, great bed,
which had once belonged to a Spanish bishop, aching for him to
discern she was there. She'd never liked to ask why he had a Spanish
bed. The feather mattress was soft, sensuous, and his. Eventually she
slept alongside him, supremely happy for what she knew would be just
a few moments in time.

When Laura awoke, she was alone and it
was dark except for the light from the moon. What was she doing on
this bed? Wasn’t it Adam’s? Why was she wearing trousers?
Where was Adam? Other questions raced through her mind before she
remembered she could not be seen. That set off another set of
questions. What had happened to her? What had she got strapped round
her waist making it difficult to turn over? She sat up and pulled the
bag towards her front. She unzipped it. Ah yes, zips, something was
coming back. She read the notes inside. They were in her handwriting;
they were true. She had even written down why she was here. It was to
ensure Xandra had arrived safely and was enjoying her life in the
nineteenth century.

Her memory prompted, she tottered
towards the door. She’d woken up with such a shock. How much
time had she wasted by sleeping? Carefully, she inched open the
bedroom door. Peering over the gallery banister towards the dim light
below she noticed that trays of dishes were being removed from the
dining room. Then Catherine and Alexandra came out into the hall,
pretended to warm their hands on the candelabrum and scuttled into
the sitting room, pulling their shawls around their shoulders
tightly. Laura had never moved so fast – she had to follow them
through before they closed the door.

“I’m so pleased The Tree of
Life is back, Alexandra. Isn’t it strange the way it suddenly
appeared again?”

“Don’t you think it was
Adam who brought it back?”

Catherine pondered for a moment. “I
cannot think why it had been removed. Why would anyone remove a rug?
It’s true it’s very valuable; brought from India. I find
this a most odd occurrence. I do believe these strange happenings
contributed to Laura leaving for America.”

“What strange happenings?”

Catherine sighed loudly and sat on the
sofa, close to the fire. “Oh Jack is always going missing,
though Adam just calls them his ‘jolly japes’. Adam
bought Laura a beautiful diamond necklace and she only had it a short
while before it went missing too. She told Adam; he got very angry
and then he went missing. Soon after, she just left. Then her ship
sank and all were lost. Adam will never be the same again. When he
discovered she was sailing for America, he rode like the wind to stop
her, but it was too late. It’s a tragic tale and I cannot help
Adam to forget her.”

Laura’s tears streamed down her
face. That’s not how she would tell what happened. There was so
much more to it than that. The day before she left she thought her
suspicions were confirmed when she discovered him visiting a chit of
a girl in the town. But she must leave her thoughts in order to
follow what Alexandra was saying.

“Perhaps it is right for him to
hold her in his memory. What has gone before and what may lie ahead
are small matters compared to what lies within. There should be
nothing that festers.”

Was Xandra turning into a philosopher?
That wasn’t the plan. Laura wiped a tear with the paper hanky
that had been stuffed up her sleeve.

“How wise you are, Alexandra. We
must help him cherish her memory and remember the love they had
together. He blames himself ceaselessly for her loss.”

Laura’s tears were unstoppable.
If only she had known then how much he’d cared. Her tears
turned to sobbing and the yearning she felt for Adam was unendurable.
She would never be able to hold him, never know the joy of that
smile, the one he kept only for her, and never be able to tell him
that she loved him more than life itself. She would follow him, hold
him, kiss him, lie beside him always. She would give up her new
existence and let her lifeblood drain from her and live as a
bystander and a witness to his sorrow. With a wrench she forced
herself to declare aloud ‘No’. It was wrong – so
very wrong. She had found a way to make amends and she must not lose
sight of her mission.

“Catherine, do you find it
inordinately cold in here?”

“Oh I thought it was just me. I
felt a strange chill, like a wave of cold winds…”

“What a superb picture you paint,
Catherine,” said Alexandra laughing gently. “I shall have
to put that in my journal.”

Catherine laughed too. “A wave of
cold winds? But it is true. See, even the fire gutters."

Undeterred, Laura took out her camera;
she wanted to remember this moment for ever. She stood by the window
and composed the shot carefully. Only Alexandra must be in the
picture. She clicked. The camera flashed and Catherine screamed. As
Adam hurried in, Laura could not resist the opportunity to catch him
on camera too. Flash.

“Lightning. That’s all it
is Catherine. Do not fret.” Adam crossed to the window, looked
out and did not look at all convinced. He turned, puzzled over the
phenomenon, then decided to distract both himself and the girls by
putting another log on the fire and sat in his favourite armchair
nearby.

Laura curled up at his feet; something
she had never done before, and, had anybody been able to see her,
they would have commented on her gentle radiance.

~

Early the following morning, Laura
reluctantly left behind the joy of sleeping alongside Adam. She ought
to go. But first she wanted to take one last look at Alexandra. They
would never converse again – Laura blinked as a tear welled up.
The only way Alexandra would be heard across the centuries was
through her writing.

Carefully opening Alexandra’s
door, she tiptoed over to the writing slope on the chest of drawers
by the window. Laura felt safer tiptoeing; she was so close to the
sleeping girl who might have been her best friend. There was the
journal. Only two entries, barely legible – there were so many
ink splodges. Clearly Alexandra was having trouble with a quill, but
they confirmed what Laura longed to know. The first came straight to
the point: she found life in “Foxhills” fascinating. The
second told of her hopes: later next week, she looked forward to
riding with Adam and Catherine. She counted the number of times Adam
had been mentioned. Nine.