Time After Time (8 page)

Marcus appeared almost the same as I’d seen him in my dream last night, only more modern in his jeans and t-shirt, his trendy haircut falling across his forehead. His eyes were the same—like burnt chocolate. His lopsided grin was the same too, making my stomach perform tiny somersaults just like Penelope’s did every time he looked at her.

‘What is it?’ I asked, managing to find my voice.

‘Aren’t you going to school?’

‘Of course.’ I gestured to the books I carried.

‘Right. You normally go with your friend.’

‘So?’ I said a little too rudely. I didn’t
want
to be rude to him, but I didn’t want to like him, either. At least not the way Penelope liked him.

‘So, she’s not here.’

I smiled. ‘Your powers of observation are brilliant.’

His lips quirked. ‘Where is she?’

‘Her car’s in the shop.
I’m
catching the bus. Not that it’s any of your business.’

He glanced up the street as if expecting the bus to suddenly materialise. ‘Well, do you want a lift?’

‘What?’ I peered at him curiously. ‘With you?’

Marcus shrugged. ‘Yeah. With me.’

I hesitated. A ride on the bus with Lilly and Emma could result in bruising, bleeding, or at the very least, severe mortification. But at least I knew what I was in for with them. With Marcus, I didn’t know what to expect.

‘C’mon,’ Marcus urged, his voice friendly and easygoing, ‘we’re neighbours, aren’t we?’

‘Well…’ I paused. I wasn’t sure about being in close proximity to him. What would we even talk about? Broadhurst Manor? Harry and Georgina? ‘Someone might see you,’ I pointed out.

He frowned. ‘And?’

I sighed. Did I have to spell it out? ‘Hanging with me is not so good for your reputation.’

Marcus shrugged. ‘Look, do you want a lift? I’m being friendly.’

I considered him before nodding. ‘Thanks.’

Following him, I climbed into his red Toyota. It was some kind of sports model, a few years old, and inside it smelt strongly of leather and apple shampoo. I was sure that when I got close enough to Marcus he’d smell like apple shampoo, too.

I flushed suddenly. If
I got close enough to Marcus
, I corrected myself,
not
when. Strapping on my seatbelt, I stared out the window, careful not to look at him, my cheeks still hot.

‘So you don’t have a car?’ Marcus said after a few moments of driving in silence.

‘Another brilliant use of your powers of observation. You know, you should use your powers for evil. You’d make more money and be able to buy an even flashier car to impress the girls with.’

The edges of his mouth twitched. ‘You’re a girl. Do I impress you?’

‘No. I’m not impressed by flashy cars.’

‘You don’t want a car?’ he asked, purposefully ignoring my gibe.

‘Sure. But I don’t have a mummy and a daddy to buy me one,’ I said pointedly.

Marcus laughed. ‘Hey, I paid for half this baby. I spent hours delivering papers, pumping gas, and babysitting.’

‘You babysat?’ I asked wryly.

‘Sure. My aunt has two little brats I watch.’ He glanced at me. ‘Doesn’t pay as much as the library though, I bet.’

I bristled. ‘How do you know I work there?’

‘I’ve been spying on—’ he started to whisper, then laughed at the shocked expression that must have crossed my face. ‘Relax. I haven’t been spying on you. Your aunt told my mum. She suggested I apply for a job there.’

‘And? Did you?’ I wasn’t sure how I felt about working with Marcus. I held my breath waiting for his answer, which was silly. What did I care where he worked?

‘Nah. Libraries aren’t really my scene,’ he laughed, ‘Although,
you
don’t look much like a librarian.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ I tugged at the short, dark green dress I wore over torn black tights.

‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ Marcus replied easily, ‘It’s just an
observation
.’

‘Well, I already told you. I don’t want you observing me,’ I bristled.

‘You told me to use my powers for evil, not good,’ he teased.

‘Well, I don’t want you to know anything about me.’ I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. Something about Marcus set me on edge. The way he looked at me. The way he’d stepped out of my dreams and into the house next door. That last fact alone was enough to give me the creeps.

‘O-kay,’ he said, sighing heavily.

He pulled into the school parking lot and switched off the engine. I climbed out and slammed the door, stalking in the direction of my first class, anxious to get away from Marcus Knight and his absurd normalcy. Didn’t he know he was currently courting me circa 1806? How could he not remember? How could he not recall that two hundred years ago his name was Heath Lockwood and, like now, he’d managed to turn me into a quivering mess, albeit for different reasons?

Marcus was beside me in a flash. ‘Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I thought maybe we could be friends,’ he said, easily matching me stride for stride.

‘I don’t need friends,’ I replied, ‘and trust me,
you
don’t need
me
as your friend.’

‘But we’re neighbours.’

‘That is a fact I can’t change.’

‘You could at least thank me for the lift.’

I stopped, turning to face him. His eyes sparked with amusement. What was with him anyhow? Why was he so intent on talking to me? Maybe I should get
leave me alone
tattooed across my forehead, maybe then he’d get the hint.

Staring at his face, at his deep brown eyes and wide mouth, I had a sudden urge to kiss him. My imagination ran away of its own accord, and I could almost feel his soft lips pressed against mine, smell the warm scent of him and hear the soft thud of his heartbeat pressed against my own.

As if I’d kissed him before.

Had I kissed him before?
My mind grew foggy as I raced through all my dreams and memories. I
had
kissed him before, I was sure of it. But I couldn’t find it in Penelope’s story, at least not yet.

I began to sway, tilting towards him and feeling slightly faint, when he caught me, steadying me upright. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his voice concerned, brows knitted together.

‘Fine,’ I said, pausing before I continued. ‘Um, thanks for the lift.’

Then, before he could say another word, I hurried off, ignoring the feel of his heated gaze on my back and the way my heart felt as if it might beat itself free of my chest.

‘So you really can’t come tomorrow night?’ I asked again.

Beth shook her head. ‘Sorry. I promised my mum I’d go to the dance if she paid for my car.’

‘But it’s Hard Candy!’

‘I know, but there’s nothing I can do,’ Beth sighed, ‘It’s just one night.’

I sighed and picked at my lunch. ‘Ugh, one night of torture. You couldn’t pay me to go,’ I looked at Laura, ‘What about you?’

Laura had the grace to appear shamefaced. ‘Well…’ She exchanged looks with Beth.

‘What?’ I asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously at my two friends. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Well, I can hardly turn up to the Spring dance on my own,’ Beth offered lamely.

‘So you’re going too?’ I demanded of Laura, feeling further betrayed.

‘Well, you wouldn’t want Beth to face it alone, would you?’ countered Laura.

I was furious. ‘Well, why didn’t you ask me?’

They exchanged another look. ‘What would you have said?’

‘No. I would have said
no
, because I have principles, and I stand by them. I thought you guys did, too.’

‘C’mon, Abbie, it’s just one school dance,’ Beth muttered.

‘And I suppose you’ll be going to prom, now, all of a sudden?’ I mumbled, feeling more socially rejected than I ever had before.

Silence greeted me.

‘Oh my god!’ I shrieked, drawing the attention of those at the surrounding tables, ‘You
are
thinking about prom!’

‘My mum said it’s an important rite of passage and that I’ll regret it if I don’t go,’ Beth mumbled, her cheeks flaming red.

I grabbed my bag and stood up. ‘Your mum? Fine. You do exactly what your
mummy
says.’ I shot Laura a disparaging look before angrily striding away.
Could this day possibly get any worse?
It was one thing to be a reject of the majority of the student body, but now I bordered on being a reject of my own friends.

‘Going to slit your wrists, little emo girl?’ snickered Lilly as I marched past her table.

‘Do it properly, though,’ added Emma, ‘and spare us your ghastly presence every day.’ The two girls, plus their friends, broke into fits of laughter.

Damn, why didn’t I go the other way
? In my haste to get away from Beth, Laura and their treachery, I’d walked right into Lilly’s lair.

I drew a ragged breath, fisted my hands, and continued walking.

Marcus was at the doorway, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. ‘Abbie, hey,’ he said, smiling easily as I pushed past him.

‘Hey, wait up!’ he called, and for the second time that day I heard him running to catch up with me. ‘What’s up?’

‘Leave me alone,’ I said irritably, not meeting his eyes.

‘You look upset.’

‘Another observation?’ I drawled sarcastically, ‘Well done, Einstein, now go join your friends and use your genius for those evil measures, and leave me alone.’

‘You want to be alone? Like Greta Garbo?’ His lips twitched.

‘Got it, pretty boy.’

‘You think I’m pretty?’ he asked, and I could hear the smile in his words, although I didn’t dare look at him.

‘I
don’t
think of you. Period.’ Even to me, the lie felt ugly in my mouth, like a bad taste. I did think about him, all the time, and, when I wasn’t thinking about him, I was dreaming about him.

Then he said, ‘C’mon, Abbie. You think about me. I bet you’ve even dreamed about me.’

I stopped, turning slowly to face him, feeling the blood drain from my face. ‘What did you say?’ I whispered. Suddenly, my throat felt very dry and parched.
Did he know about the dreams? Did he remember? Could he, somehow, help me? Help Penelope?

‘Aha! I got you,’ smiled Marcus, chuckling, looking pleased.

I stared at him in confusion, my heart thumping chaotically in my chest.

‘Hey, lighten up,’ he said after a moment, winking at me. ‘It was only a joke.’

And just like that, my heart fell, dropping to the pit of my stomach. He didn’t remember.

‘A joke?’ I glared at him, feeling a flush of heat. ‘Well, I’m not laughing! And I’m not a joke, pretty boy, so you can just stop laughing at me!’

I stormed off, and this time, he didn’t follow.

1806

Penelope sat proudly in the front row listening to her father’s sermon, resisting the urge to turn around.

That morning he was lecturing about science and how the scientific community was encroaching into areas of faith where it shouldn’t. God, the Holy Spirit and faith could not be explained by science. His voice and message rang clearly around the small, crowded church; he spoke with a depth and a passion Penelope knew he felt.

Afterwards, she stood beside him as he greeted each parishioner by name, chatting amicably with them.

‘I was just saying to your daughter last night at Broadhurst Manor,’ Mrs Priscopp paused longer than necessary, ‘that I hope
my Anne
will be with us soon enough.’

‘That would be lovely indeed,’ Pastor Broadhurst told her pleasantly. ‘We’d all welcome another visit from your niece, wouldn’t we, Penelope?’

Penelope smiled, finding it difficult to muster any warm feelings for the arrogant Anne.

‘Well, she’s very popular in London, but I’m sure she can be convinced to visit.’ She glanced over at the Broadhursts and Mr Lockwood. ‘A little fresh country air is good for one’s soul, I always say.’

‘And there is no air quite as good as the air in Broadhurst,’ Penelope’s father replied agreeably.

‘Quite right, Pastor Broadhurst, quite right,’ Mrs Priscopp agreed, ‘And the sights have been much improved of late. I’m sure
my Anne
would benefit the most from meeting the new guest in town.’

Penelope was barely listening to Mrs Priscopp, her eyes and attention completely ensnared by Heath. Her head spinning slightly, she remembered the noise that had startled her last night. Goosebumps traced her bare arms, and for some inexplicable reason she wondered if the noise had been Heath outside her room.

Surely not.

Mrs Priscopp moved away, but only after being greatly encouraged by the Pastor to invite Anne to Broadhurst. Penelope had remained stubbornly silent, her opinion of the girl greatly different to Mrs Priscopp’s.

‘Ah, Georgie,’ cried her father as she approached, ‘And Harry as well! How are you both? Penelope says you are in town for a lengthy visit, Harry?’

‘I do hope so, sir,’ Harry replied, ‘Although I will need to return to my studies.’

‘Your father says you’re doing very well,’ mused the Pastor. ‘Science,’ he continued, ‘I hear you have a bent for science?’

‘Science is most interesting, sir,’ Harry explained, ‘and I’m fortunate enough to have a professor who is most modern in his approach to the subject.’

Pastor Broadhurst smiled indulgently, his eyes serious. ‘As long as science does not replace faith.’

‘Of course not,’ Harry nodded obediently, ‘Although it
can
explain things faith cannot.’

‘Really? How so?’

‘Uncle, may I introduce Mr Heath Lockwood?’ Georgina interjected, smiling sweetly and changing the conversation. ‘He’s a colleague of Harry’s and staying with us for a while.’

‘Ah yes.’ Pastor Broadhurst clasped Heath’s hand, forgetting his brief debate with Harry. ‘Very good to meet you. My daughter has mentioned you many times.’

Heath’s eyes flashed to Penelope, who blushed at her father’s innocent words. ‘Really? I hope she spoke favourably.’

‘Penelope always does, I can assure you of that,’ laughed the Pastor, ‘but that is one of her faults, I’m afraid. Penelope sees only the good in people, and none of the bad.’

‘I think that is a very pretty fault to have,’ observed Heath.

Penelope didn’t know where to look. Her pulse quickened and her mouth ran dry, and she wondered if she would be able to utter anything even remotely comprehensible. In addition, she was aware of not only Heath but also Georgina watching her curiously, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet either one’s eyes.