My Dirty Little Book of Stolen Time (33 page)

‘Georg, let go of the stick & run!' shrieked Helle, but he shouted back that he could not, & we should press ahead & he would
catch up with us!

‘No!' Helle & I yelled in unison, but just as we did so, Georg, struggling desperately against the strength of the vicious
canine, lost his footing & slipped on the icy path. No! The end was now nigh, for with a single mighty leap the maddened animal
had hurled its whole weight at Georg & smacked into him, landing with a thud upon his torso. Helle screamed, & I gulped, &
Spiderman prepared to attack, but then there fell a strange silence: it seemed that the impact of the two bodies had stunned
both man & beast, for neither of them now moved. With a cry I ran towards Georg to drag the slumped creature off him, but
just as I did so, two strong arms came from nowhere & grabbed me from behind.

I screamed, & so did Spiderman.

I swung around & there he was.

‘Dad!' yelled Josie. For it was he. Those manly, pirate good looks, that heart-melting smile: I swear I did fall in love with
Mr Fergus McCrombie all anew in that split second, & counted myself the luckiest girl in all of Galileo's galaxies!

‘Got you, hen,' he murmured, hugging me tight, & Josie ripped off her Spiderman mask & hurtled to join us, & Helle embraced
Georg who had now come to, & emerged from beneath the lifeless dog.

‘I stunned Gnasher here with a dart dipped in a tranquillizer I bought from Mr Bang's pharmacy,' explained Fergus smilingly.
‘I shot it from the blowpipe the orang-utan brought back from Borneo.'

‘Is he going to be OK?' enquired Josie, all of a sudden going over to stroke its fur, a look of deep concern on her face.

‘Sure, hen. He'll wake up in fifteen minutes with a bad headache.'

But Josie, tipped over the edge by the plight of the dog, was no longer able to contain the tears she had been so bravely
holding back all this while, & she clung to her beloved father like a small monkey, & the three of us remained locked in one
another's arms most
hyggelight
-cosy for many minutes, babbling incoherently all the while, & squeezing tight enough to kill. O & I cannot tell you, my precious one, what bliss it was for all of us to be so reunited, after our differing ordeals apart.

‘Lottie, hen,' Fergus said in my ear. ‘And Josie. Listen carefully, you two: I swear we'll never lose each other again.' And
he whipped off his coat & wrapped it round us both for warmth, & then greeted the Jakobsens – who were cheering aloud for
joy at being home again – most effusively.

‘Let's get some shelter,' Fergus then said, & led us into a corner of the garden where, behind the skeletons of some fifteen
Christmas trees, lurked his version of the Time Machine. ‘It's a scaled-down model,' he said modestly, revealing to us a charming,
if a little haphazard construction that tilted somewhat. ‘With fewer specifications, and it's not as fancy, but the basic
mechanics are all there. If I'd only been able to find the ingredients to the catalysing –' he began, but I hushed him.

‘I know how hard you tried,' I said, and quickly explained about our lightning voyage to modern Denmark – born, I told him,
of sheer desperation – & its happy result.

‘Schnapps?
Schnapps! Of course,
of course?
he cried, slapping his forehead. ‘I should have guessed: that hip-flask Fred always carries on him! Christ, schnapps is practically
a fourth body fluid, as far as the Professor's concerned!' Then he stopped & took a step back, scrutinizing me with a sudden,
almost scientific interest. ‘You've put on weight, hen,' he said at last. ‘Were you aware of that?'

‘I hear that English food makes you swell,' I said, feeling not a little flustered & defensive, for I had not noticed any
changes in my body, save that my breasts seemed even plumper. A soft & most happy smile spread across Fergus's face. ‘It suits
you. Even sexier than ever.'

‘And you are even more like a hero,' I replied, stroking his stubbled jaw & kissing that adorable cheekbone which I had so
missed & longed for. ‘But tell me, where is Franz now?' I queried, coming to my senses. ‘For he ended up in the Sankt Hans.'

Fergus looked troubled. ‘Well, I've been wondering. I had to move out, because I was in the doghouse with the Poppersen Muhls,
because Franz told them I sold Josie to a circus. I can't blame them for giving me the cold shoulder, but it got hell of a
difficult, so Gudrun let me crash in the drying-room at the laundry. I took Else with me a week ago to visit Franz's parents
and they were even more edgy than before. Said Franz wasn't home, and was “taking a cure”. He'd been getting more & more outspoken
about the time-travelling, & they weren't keen on the vacuum-cleaner stuff either.'

Resolving to visit Franz as soon as we might, our most immediate task was now to find lodgings for the night. Half an hour
later Georg was proudly unpadlocking the massive wooden gates of the Authentic Hair Emporium in Christianshavn. Oil lanterns
in hand, we ventured into the main warehouse, where we beheld a bewildering assortment of mannequins, stacked in rows, all
sporting elaborate wigs, amid multitudinous sacks of human hair (‘from nuns & the dead', explained Helle reverently) & bundles
of mesh & other accoutrements.

‘We are planning to transform the premises into the headquarters of a chain of beauty salons,' declared Georg proudly, as
he gathered wigs & mannequin-limbs & threw them into the huge wood-burning stove to make a fire. Soon we had lit it, & it
blazed fiercely, & our makeshift lodgings soon felt most
hyggeligt.
‘Our business is going to be a success this time,' said Herr Jakobsen proudly – but how he was able to evoke an image of future
wealth with such confidence was a bafflement to me, until Helle asked, ‘Remember my trip to the public library, Charlotte?'
I replied that I did indeed, her visit there having taken place only two days ago, give or take a century. ‘Well, I did a
little investigating on my own account. It seems that we will have opened three new premises by September 1898, & a fourth
before the year is out –'

‘So is that why you were so relaxed on our trip to modern Copenhagen?' I asked her, warming my hands by the fire, where my
two McCrombies were now attempting to grill waffles. ‘Tell me, is that why you went to the cinema, & filed your nails, & shopped
in Magasin, when I was going out of my mind with anxiety?'

She smiled benignly.

‘In part. But mostly it was because I had already looked into
your
future,
min skat,
& seen that it was good. That you & this dear gentleman here would be reunited, & have all those things you dreamed of.'

‘But how?'

‘Do you remember a volume of Franz's entitled
Important
Things Life Has Taught Me & Other Reflections?

‘Yes! In the Sankt Hans.'

‘Well, it was clear from that. It seems you & Fergus came to visit him in his old age, & many times before that, as did Georg
& I.'

I did not know what to say for a moment, for I felt quite dumbstruck. Fergus took my hand & squeezed it reassuringly, but
I could not be restrained.

‘Fru Jakobsen, I am glad indeed to hear this, but nonetheless perplexed! Do you mean to say that you learned I would
not
be parted from Fergus for ever, as I so feared, & yet you uttered not a word to me on the matter, to set my heart at rest? You
calmly allowed me to endure all that suffering & anxiety?'

‘Well, I thought it best,' said Fru Jakobsen with finality. To my surprise, I saw that Fergus was nodding in approval, clearly
having fathomed something I had not.

‘Well, kindly explain yourself then, madam!' I cried, feeling suddenly quite overheated. Helle patted my hand.

‘Well,
skat'
she said. ‘The fact is that being no expert on philosophical matters, I was merely applying a measure of prudence. Might you
not have behaved differently, had you not experienced the sense of urgency, & gone to the lengths you did to discover the
ingredients of the catalysing liquid? Might things then not have transpired otherwise than they did?'

‘The Grandmother Paradox,' said my future husband knowledgeably. ‘Professor Krak talked about it. It's never been resolved.'

‘But if Franz says in his diary that we visited him –'

‘Franz was a madman, according to his doctors,' said Helle Jakobsen gently, adjusting her shawl around her shoulders. ‘He
could have imagined everything I read there. Your visits could have been but wishful thinking.'

I considered for a moment.

‘And was there more? About what will happen?'

‘Yes,' she said, smiling. ‘Much more.'

‘Then I beg you, tell us nothing of it!' I said quickly, for I had become most averse to anything horoscopic.

‘I'm in agreement on that one,' said Fergus. ‘Who wants to open their Christmas presents early?'

‘Me!' said Josie.

‘You already did, last time we came to Denmark!' I said, poking her with my toe & making her squeal.

‘Personally, I want to see for myself what the future holds in store,' said my beloved man, kissing me & placing his outspread hand on my belly, where –
Satan's knickerbockers! –
I now felt a sudden & distinct kick.

Some months later, back in London, I was occupying the sofa in a state of advanced fecundity with a tangled cobweb of yellow
wool across what used once to be my lap (for I was learning to knit), when the telephone rang.

‘I know you can barely move, but can you get that, hen?' asked Fergus. ‘I'm up to my elbows in plaster of Paris here,' & he
was indeed, for he was fabricating a cast of a Greek button, circa AD 800, so I picked up the receiver & said in my now fluent
English that this was Mrs Charlotte McCrombie, who did not wish to purchase a new kitchen, sample a cable package, win a free
trip to Disneyland, or answer any kind of questionnaire about her spending habits.

‘For Fanden,
can this actually be little Frøken Charlotte?' came a voice in Danish on the other end of the line. A voice I had feared I
should never hear again!

‘Professor Krak! You are alive! What joy! And I am married to Fergus, & very soon to be a mother!'

‘Congratulations,' he said. ‘I hope to meet the new addition to the family very soon!'

‘O, Professor!
Hurra!
Can this really mean that you are finally returning to us, sir?'

‘That is indeed my plan,' he replied. ‘But I still have no means by which to leave Marroquinta – delightful though it is – with the Mother Machine destroyed. Have you & your clever husband an alternative, my dear?'

Quickly, I apprised Fergus of the situation, & in an instant he had wiped the plaster from his hands, procured a pen, & was
deep in technical conversation with the Professor, clearly as overjoyed as I to discover our friend still so emphatically
in the land of the living.

‘Right, Fred,' Fergus finished, after much excitable jibber-jabber about stellar schedules, fault-matrices & exotic matter.
‘I've got your exact co-ordinates noted, so just stay put on the island. I'm glad to hear Mrs Schleswig has landed on her
feet with the Sultan. Though I'm delighted to have her as a mother-in-law, of course, don't get me wrong, she's always welcome
here. Oh, horror there on Lottie's face … yes, I'll be happy to bring some spare parts for the vacuum cleaner, no problem.
The baby's due next month, so we'll be with you –' Here he broke off, & enquired of me, ‘When shall we say, commandant?'

‘As soon as I've got my figure back.'

‘You heard that, Fred? Yes, still the same lassie. Anyway, once that's achieved, we'll get the fake Portakabin transported
back to Greenwich Park, & we'll be with you faster than you can say quantum physics.'

If you have never visited the Afric isle of Marroquinta in the year 1000 AD, dear reader (and I'll wager that you have not,
as it features in none of the holiday brochures that regularly thud upon your doormat, with titles such as Top Destinations
or Paradise Breaks), let me acquaint you with a few of its curious & most exotic delights, as witnessed by the McCrombie family
on its first foray to that tropical Nirvana. The entire ‘nuclear' clan, now numbering four – for yes, I had by now given birth
to a marvellous child (though O, the pain! Have you passed that female rite of passage yet, dear one? If not, do not hurry
yourself, for nothing in this life can prepare you for the physical agony of passing a three-kilogram infant through an orifice
designed for quite happier purposes!), & was looking quite marvellous on it, if I may make that brief boast – arrived at eventide,
landing softly & without undue nausea upon a deliciously warm & sandy shore, where a full moon, a deep golden yellow, hung
above the rim of the horizon & the sky shone with stars so dazzling they seemed to come from a sky quite other than any we
had known.

Within moments of sighting water, Josie was busy a-splashing on the shoreline & hunting for shells while I, with the sleeping
heir in my arms (be impressed, for young Hamish now weighed fifteen kilograms), breathed in the soft & salty breeze & marvelled
at the liveliness of the waves, so different from the home life of our own dear Baltic, while Fergus consulted his compass,
& established our bearings. ‘South by south-west,' he pronounced, ‘which means we head in that direction, hen – hey, hang
on a moment –
look?
He was pointing to the middle distance where all at once, beyond a fuzz of trees, a huge & most magical-looking palace appeared
before us, shimmering white in the moonlight.

‘Hell's bells, it's twice the size of Harrods!' I cried, erecting the three-wheeled buggy, & strapping the babe within – whereupon he awoke & began a cheerful burble which – our child being a genius – featured syllables from a multitude of languages including
Danish, English, Italian, Farsi & Chinese, though as yet conjoined in no particular order. Excitedly, we followed the line
of the beach until we came upon a pebbled road which led into a steamy & most succulent jungle, where night-birds hooted &
a glorious smell assailed our nostrils. ‘Frangipani,' declared my knowledgeable Fergus, inhaling deeply, then plucking two
white flowers from the tree above us, one for me & one for Josie. (O, Mr Romantic!) Thus perfumically decorated, we reached
a clearing from which there spread an empty road as wide as Strandboulevarden: here (good gracious!) a troupe of camels wandered
in swaying fashion along its glittering white cobbles in the direction of the palace. We followed them: colonnades of high
pillars materialized alongside the highway, with small shiny-leaved trees from which hung ripe pomegranates, & there now drifted
towards us, mingling with the frangipani blossom, a smell like cinnamon, or opium, but sweeter. After some ten minutes we
arrived at a pair of carved wooden gates, where stood several huge black-skinned sentry-men in cowrie-shell armour, some of
whom set about tethering the camels while two others opened up the great doorway, & waved us in with their long palm-fronds
in the direction of a courtyard, where –