Hide in Time (29 page)

As usual, Matt had fished her out of
her difficulties with the police, well Jeeves had – Matt had
been away. Jeeves said the two policemen had seemed embarrassed so
just gave a stern warning when she took her licence into the police
station. Next time she’d lose her licence, whatever the excuse.
But there was nothing Jeeves could do for an invisible toe, was
there? So she hadn’t mentioned it. Now the summer was here, the
loss of a bit of foot might be noticeable.

She must put her worries aside and deal
with the morning’s post. She opened one with an overseas stamp
addressed to ‘In the attention of the Foreign Commercial
Responsible’. Inside, the letterhead showed the company name as
‘Casanova Grup’ and, unusually, it had a picture of its
‘principal’ underneath. She had masses of red curly hair,
a very pale skin, a smile showing many teeth and she was wearing a
low-cut vivid green satin dress. The letter suggested ‘co-operation
in matrimonial prospects agencies with earnestness for human
contribution in the domain of relations of the blood.’ She
noticed it continued in this vein. Then she laughed at her own rare
wit. The letter ended with the flourish of a red ink stamp and the
line ‘P.S. To your petition we can send flash by mail.'

Oh what a pick-me-up! Laura laughed
aloud, so much so that she did not hear Matt who, having his own key
to the door at ground level, had entered and was now knocking as he
came into the first floor office. Laura rushed to greet him. “Matt,
look at this.” She couldn’t resist reading another line,
interspersed with giggles. ‘We wish you consider our assets
close’.

Used to Laura greeting him as if he’d
never been gone, Matt flicked through the letter. “Priceless.
You should frame it.” He checked the envelope. “Unbelievably,
it’s genuine! It's from Romania. I suppose we must get some
recompense for all we pay to Europe.”

Laura took the letter from Matt and
waved it in the air as she sauntered towards the chairs by the
window. “I love living now; it has so much more to offer.”

Matt parried with, “I have an
offer of my own to make. Would you like to see ‘Jersey Boys’
tonight?”

“Tonight? Hmm… sweeping me
off my feet!” Laura beamed with pride – she’d found
a place for a newly learned phrase.

“Well, I’m glad you think
so. I thought you might term it ‘short notice’, Laura,
but I know you’re a fan.”

“I’ve never heard anything
like them before,” she said thoughtfully, concealing the real
reason the music of 'The Four Seasons' meant so much to her.

“I’ll need to pick you up
at six, does that give you time to get home?”

“Just about,” she said with
an understanding smile. Matt packed so much into his life. She wasn’t
sure what he packed in, but every minute seemed to be used; just like
Adam.

“We’ll have a spot of nosh
beforehand and then maybe dinner after?”

Everything Matt organized was perfect;
a ‘spot of nosh’ was likely to be something good. She
nodded. He walked over to her and took her two hands in his, placed a
kiss on her forehead and said, “By the way, that last date you
arranged for me – she was nice. First reserve. See you
tonight.”

If Laura hadn’t already been
sitting down, her knees would have made her. ‘First reserve’,
she repeated. ‘First reserve…’ What was Matt
saying? She felt threatened. His friends had hinted, not once but a
hundred times that she didn’t realize how lucky she was and
that she took him for granted. She couldn’t lose him –
not to Miss First Reserve! Who was that anyway? She shot over to the
filing cabinet; who had she arranged for Matt to see? Drat! Ellen
Fisher – the one who wore enough perfume to float the ark! The
clever and gorgeous and richer and definitely younger Miss Fisher,
with all her toes visible no doubt, and oh what a fool she’d
been.

The day went downhill from there.
Nobody rang. No clients, no prospective clients, not even an
interview, only horrible paperwork. Masses of it, piling up and being
moved around the desk but never to the ‘out’ tray. So she
closed the office half an hour early to give herself time to get
ready specially. Matt’s favourite dress – she’d
wear that.

~

Matt looked, now what was the phrase,
fall-dead gorgeous? Yes, that’s what he looked. Just right for
a summer theatre trip to the city, he was wearing a light jacket and
blue, open-necked shirt – the same blue as her dress. He helped
her into the car and, on arrival, he helped her out again, and held
her hand as they went into the theatre. Coffee and nibbles, then to
the front row of the circle. Everything was perfect. Until the
performers sang ‘Dawn’. As the exuberant drummer paced
her racing heartbeat they came to a line which reminded her that she
could never change the time when she was born. Laura crumbled; there
was no disguising her tears and distress. Matt whispered, “Do
you want to leave?” She did.

Matt put his arm around her shoulders
and walked her towards the Thames embankment. The sun was setting, it
was still warm and they walked along, hand in hand. “Was the
song that bad?” queried Matt.

Laura smiled. “It’s the
song I sing to you.”

“Dawn? I’m Matt!”

“I can’t remember the words
exactly at this moment but they say I’m not good for you and
you should leave me.”

“Leave you? But you are good for
me – apart from the long wait.”

Laura could not think how to reply and
tears began to fall. Matt turned towards her and cradled her in his
arms, shielding her from passers-by. Like a knight of old, she
thought, holding his shield over her while she wept. Matt kissed her
on the forehead, lingering, then brushing her cheek, seeking
permission to find her lips.

“No! Stop, Matt. I want to show
you something. I need to sit down.” They found a bench facing
the Thames, near Big Ben, and Laura took off her right shoe. “Count
the number of toes.”

“Oh, you have only four toes?
Have you been in an accident?" He looked puzzled then continued.
"Is it a problem to you?”

“Stop it Matt. Don’t go
into counselling mode. Now feel how many toes I have.”

Matt made a great show of counting
aloud, “One, two, three and four and, good lord!” He held
on to the invisible toe and looked into Laura’s tear-filled
eyes.

“I told you I was different.”

“And how!”

Concern showed on his face and Laura’s
consternation grew. Perhaps she shouldn’t say any more?

“Being a psychologist can make
other people rather easier to fathom but you are decidedly unique.”

“Matt, I’m also very
worried about my age. I don’t seem to be ageing properly.”

“Properly?” His adorable
smile lines showed.

Laura put her shoe back on. “I
was born in 1796.”

“The tests showed you are in your
twenties now. Remember, we have thoroughly investigated your
background. Whatever you recall of your past, you are not two hundred
years old. If you were born in 1796 and left in 1814, which is what
you remember, and have now lived here for six years, then you are in
your twenties. Not two hundreds.”

“But I don’t seem to be
getting any older now at all.”

“Whoa there, Laura. Most women
would give their eye teeth to be able to say that. Besides, you are
getting older. You have tiny lines from the corner of your eyes.”

“I do?”

“You do.”

“You should have told me, Matt;
I’ve been so worried.”

“Well now, you have nothing to
worry about but an invisible toe.”

Laura tensed. If anyone else had said
that… but it was Matt and Matt was holding her hand and
smiling that dratted, devastating smile; she could forgive him
anything. “But I want you to think what our future would hold.”

“Another thought from ‘Dawn’?”

Laura laughed. She couldn’t get
anything past Matt. Well apart from the fact she really was born in
1796.

“So,” said Matt, “this
toe. How long has it been invisible? I recall you had five visible
toes when I first met you.”

What could she say? Oh, it was since I
went back to 1815 last February. Perhaps if said with enough
insouciance she might carry it off; but she wouldn’t be
believed. And she couldn’t attach any blame to that. Sometimes,
and this was one of those times, she was tempted to take Matt to the
caves just so he could understand. She knew she must not – she
could lose him altogether and then what?

“Not sure, Laura? Don’t
worry. We can investigate this later. The important factor is to
marry you immediately before the rest of you becomes invisible.”

Laura thought her heart would stop.
“The rest of me – invisible? No. No, please God, no!”
As her tears streamed down her cheeks, her mind raced back to when
she’d last seen Adam but he could not see her. Please, God,
please don’t let me lose Matt too.

Matt put his arms around her and hugged
her close. “Laura, I grant that strange things happen to you,
but that just makes me love you more. It’s my fault; I should
know better and not lark about. I can see, and have done for a long
time, that there is no one else in this world quite like you. For
now, it will remain our secret. Agreed?”

Laura looked into Matt’s eyes.
They were not worried or scared eyes. They were clear, strong and
reassuring. “Oh Matt, I am so sorry. I have spoilt the lovely
evening you’d planned.”

“Not spoilt it, Laura, no.
Surprised me yet again – that’s for sure.”

Matt stood up and pulled Laura to her
feet, took her in his arms and, this time, he didn't seek permission
– he just kissed her. Big Ben chimed thirteen or maybe it was
twenty. “Let’s catch a cab to Claridges and I’ll
ask them to bring dinner forward for us.”

“Thank you, Matt, thank you for
not running away.”

“Oh no, you are too fascinating
to leave. Besides, I have work for you to do.”

“Work?”

“The Foxley Diaries. But I’ll
tell you later.”

“Tell me now, Matt. They were
extraordinary, though I only read a few pages, and I’d rather
think of them than invisible toes.”

“I’d rather think of your
toes, Laura,” Matt said as he held her hand and pretended to
count her fingers until she playfully slapped him. “As you
know, we don’t put all the diaries on show because we are not
too sure what some of them say. She uses a shorthand that is personal
to her. Much of it can be deciphered with a knowledge of Pitman’s
but there is some which has eluded the finest scholars in the land.”
He threw his arm wide and added, “Well me and my friends
anyway.”

“And you think I’d be able
to decipher it?” Laura could not believe what she was hearing.
“I can’t read shorthand!”

“I’d always thought she was
remarkably prescient but I now see there’s more to it than
that. You know so much more of what really happened back then, don’t
you, Laura? Use that knowledge to good effect. We need someone we can
trust – we don’t know what she’s said.” His
smile grew. “Learn shorthand. Give up the agency. You can sell
it now that I’ve found someone.” He swung her round and
kissed her again, raised an arm – straight, commanding and oh
so sexy, stopped a cab and helped her into the back seat. “We’ll
pick up the car after dinner.”

“Matt, where do you go when you
disappear on these business trips?”

“I might well ask you a similar
question, Laura.”

~

When she went to bed that night, she
took Adam’s ring from her drawer and put it on her finger. He’d
had it made specially for her. Cornell’s, the small but smart
new jeweller, had fashioned it to Adam’s specific design. It
always drew her thoughts to him. She’d liked it that way but
tonight Matt’s words from way back intruded on her bittersweet
memories. “It’s not the things you have done that you
regret but the things you’ve left undone.” In the morning
she knew she would go back one last time, no matter what it cost her.
There was still something more she had neglected to do.

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

Laura left her cottage before dawn on
Tuesday, fifteenth June, 2010. To slip through to the cave unnoticed
in summer sunshine was going to be difficult. Would there be a
milkman around at five o’clock in the morning? Too early for
newspaper deliveries, she hoped, and also for the postman. Honestly,
the post was better in 1814 than it was these days.

She parked and locked her car, picked
up her backpack from the pavement, and headed for the gateway. “Good
lord. No!” The entrance had been boarded up securely and garish
adverts were papered all over. She would have to wrench the door off.
She returned to the car and found her small toolbox in the boot. Back
she went to the entrance and patiently levered the boards off. It
took nearly an hour and she was exhausted – she’d had so
little sleep too. Thank goodness the opening was shielded by other
hoardings.

~

It was mid afternoon the same day,
fifteenth of June, 1815, but a Thursday, by the time she slipped past
Billy. She blew him a kiss and whispered a ‘thank you’
for looking after Xandra – no, she must think of her as
Alexandra here. Billy shivered. He looked around, straight through
Laura and called out her name.

Adam approached. “Is something
wrong?”

“Sir, no sir,” Billy said
as he drew his feet together and almost stood to attention.

Laura, whose eyes had been riveted on
Adam, noticed his reaction. A soldier’s training goes deep, she
thought.

“Did I hear you call out for
Laura?”

“Sir, I did, sir. I beg your
forgiveness. I…, I…”

“Do not concern yourself, Billy.
You supposed you saw or heard her; is that not so?”

“I did, sir. But I can’t
have.” Billy hesitated; scouting like the forlorn hope for
enlightenment, he added, “Can I?”

“I should reply ‘impossible’,
Billy, but as Shakespeare said, ‘There are more things in
heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”