The Time Rip (10 page)

She guessed it must be before cars were around, as everyone seemed to have horses. According to her research, it should be no later than around the turn of the last century. She pictured again the children and women she had seen in Joe’s Village, looking closely at photographs on the Internet to try to compare clothing.

It would be easier if she had a picture of those kids in front of her to compare with. There were many different styles of clothing, and her memories were beginning to blur a bit. After much work, she narrowed it down to between 1890 and 1910, a time span of around 20 years.

Of course, it was possible she was miles out, but without more information to go on it was hard to guess. Clothing should be a good indicator, as fashions came and went, but she had to wonder how much ready cash the women of Joe’s village would have had for clothes if they could not keep their kids in shoes.

For all she knew they were wearing charity shop clothing that could be twenty odd years out of date, and that would bring the time frame forward considerably. In addition, the sites she was looking at were mainly drawings of fashion plates, or blurred sepia photographs that did not make for easy identification.

Her mind wandered over it all. The impossibility of it. As soon as she was back here, it became difficult to think of it as real.

Next time she went, she was going to bring something back to remind her that she had actually been there. It was too tempting to think of it as some elaborate fantasy her bored brain had concocted.

Sighing, she logged off and walked home thinking of what to make for lunch. The sky was looking grim. The hazy sunshine of the morning had turned into a masses of grey clouds. Their white tops were visible in places, flattening out ominously, but the heat still managed to be stifling.

The weather finally broke late on Sunday afternoon. The heavy atmosphere erupting in torrential rain that gushed from the sky, streaming down dirty buildings and fast forming puddles amid the litter and debris on the ground.

Down a deserted graffiti covered alleyway, a man appeared without fuss. Jeremy stood still for a moment, scanning his surroundings and then checking his time device. The wind whipped at his coat tails. He caught the dramatic image he made in the mirrored glass of a barred window and winced.

Emerging from the alleyway he set off in an easterly direction, hunching slightly against the rain, unfazed by the heavy traffic along the high street. He found shelter in a café to wait out the worst of the weather.

The coffee he purchased was strong and aromatic; he savoured it slowly. One of the delights of living and working in former centuries was the availability of good quality coffee. By 2112, coffee, along with many other things, had become scarce. Government solutions to global warming and war having all but destroyed those areas that grew such crops. Only the very rich could still indulge.

Jeremy sat at a tall table by the open doorway. The rich smell of coffee mixing with the musty scent of rain on hot concrete. Traffic was busy at this time of day. Cars sweeping over the rain-drenched road.

Murmuring at the edge of his attention was the grinding of beans, the dull metallic thud of strainer hitting bin, and the low din of conversation from patrons. Combined with the rain, it all conspired to have a soporific effect on him.

He absorbed the sensual tapestry in contented silence. Warm air clung to the windows, leaving raindrops as brilliant points of light on opaque glass; the aspect outside, dark with cloud cover.

It took effort to shake off the feeling. The waitress came to re-fill his cup, and he took the opportunity to beg an A-Z from the girl; then sat yawning over the pages, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. Finding what he was looking for, he compared the address he had noted with the map in front of him and a slight smile curved his mouth.

His time device buzzed in his pocket and he checked the caller ID, answered, “Sanders.”

“Jeremy. Greg Jones here, I heard a rumour you were around. Thought I’d give a call to see if there’s anything you need.”

“Jones, good to hear you. I’ve just arrived. Coffee’s good.”

“Yeah, you can’t beat the 21
^st
century for coffee. You’re okay for money then?”

“Matt supplied me with a card from the office.”

“Speak of the devil, Matt tells me you’re hunting down a girl here. If you want me to run her through the system, I’ll need an address.”

“All right, but I doubt you’ll find anything. I believe she has happened on a device by chance and does not fully understand its function. In fact, she may not have realised she travelled at all.” Jeremy took another sip of coffee.

“Doesn’t hurt to be careful. You gonna DNA?”

“I expect so. In any case, I doubt she will give me any trouble. The only problem will be in not scaring her half to death. This kind of thing is what Matt is employed for; it is his area of expertise not mine. Unfortunately, he is otherwise engaged at present. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this. I only hope I can remember how to go about it.”

Greg laughter sounded down the line, “I’d offer to help you out, but I have to confess I’m curious to see how you get on.”

“Thank you. You certainly learn who your friends are.”

More laughter. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. What made you suspect her? Matt said you didn’t nail her on the first visit.”

“True. Her clothing was consistent on both occasions, but was nothing out of the ordinary for this era. However, having learned of my bookkeeping abilities, she came back to ask for help with her business accounts. The date was printed on every page of her ledger book and as if that were not enough, she left her diary behind. I cannot imagine someone who was not innocent making such a basic error.”

“Poor kid’s gonna get a shock when you catch up with her. I’d love to be a fly on the wall.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I suppose it is inevitable that she is going to be unhappy with me, but we don’t have a lot of choice in this matter. Unless you would like to assign someone else to this.”

“Sorry, all our operatives are otherwise engaged at this time. Besides, I think it will be good for you, Sanders. It’s a great opportunity to practise your people skills.”

“Somehow I doubt she will agree. Well, I will deal with this as best I can and hopefully it will be resolved amicably.”

“Drop in if you get time. It’d be good to catch up a bit. What’s Matthew working on that’s so important?”

“He tells me he has a new lead and does not want to arouse suspicion by disappearing at this time, but unfortunately it leaves me at a loose end to pursue this girl.”

“You never know, you might get to enjoy yourself.”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea for either of us. I cannot see that she would want some jaded man from 2112 dictating to her, especially when I take her DNA and newest toy away. Try as I may, I cannot see that she will view me particularly favourably afterwards.”

“What’s wrong, losing your knack?”

“Give it up, Jones.”

“Maybe you could introduce me.” There was a telling silence then Greg burst out laughing. “I think I want to meet this girl. I think I’m going to teach her some karate moves so she can deck you when you get out of line.”

“Keep dreaming,” said Jeremy, but he was smiling as he hung up. He finished his coffee and as the rain had eased, he took his leave and walked briskly down the high street under a sky bulging with clouds.

Once he found Freya’s address he looked around the area carefully. He walked around the block, taking note of vehicles and housing, while watching out for anything that might be suspicious or out of place. Despite his attitude with Greg, he was careful.

Only when he had finished all his checks did he go down the steps to her flat. Standing slightly to one side, he knocked on the front door. Then waited a full five minutes before he used his time device to enter.

Her flat was small and cluttered, and he stood still for a moment breathing in her scent. He called out her name while making a quick run through of the rooms to ensure she was not there. While he waited for her to return, he began his search.

It did not take long, and by the time he had finished he was certain that she was from 2008. Her ID matched up perfectly for the era; her name coming up on the census he accessed from his time device. She had not one single thing from 2100, and all her documentation clearly showed a life lived in the 21
^st
century. No one could manufacture such a history, right down to the faded ink on some of her older utility bills. She was no runaway from a future century, but a legitimate citizen of this time and place.

He would still need to discover where she had found her time device before he took it from her, and he was certain she would not want to give up either information or hardware. Still, it was not as if he had any choice in the matter. He sighed and sat down to wait, hoping she would not be too long.

That, of course, depended on where she was. Since it was late Sunday afternoon, he was working on the assumption that she would come home for dinner, or at least come back to change if she intended to be out for the evening.

He tried not to speculate over whether she had already returned and left. If that were the case, she could well be gone until late in the evening. Well, there was little else he could do now except wait. He flicked idly through his time device. Perhaps he would give Matt a call to keep him in the loop.

Freya eased through the pub on Camrose Street. The Ship was a favourite haunt for Freya and Janet, combining a dingy, comforting atmosphere with good food and crowds. She spotted Janet at a table to one side, close to the back door. Cigarette smoke drifted in from the patio garden where the door had been propped open to counteract the heat.

Despite all the Government’s warnings and legislation over tobacco, and the fact she had never smoked, or wished to, Freya found the smell immensely comforting. It was a piece of childhood, of history, the scent mingling with the rain, beer and chips to create a sense of belonging when she knew, in reality, she was alone. Then Janet caught her eye and smiled in welcome.

Freya felt herself relax as she acknowledged her friend, returning the smile and nodding. Janet had originally been Nathan’s girlfriend, and it was not until after his death that the two girls had become close.

Grief had sliced Freya’s family apart. Her parents, fathoms deep in mourning for their lost boy, had forgotten their daughter was still alive. Freya’s brother was dead and she could not help but think it should have been her.

Janet had been her anchor. Freya had taken it all out on her. Every last perceived betrayal and fractured piece of trust and, somehow, Janet had turned all that rage, hate and grief into friendship and love.

She had given Freya back her life and Freya still did not understand why Janet had wanted her. It was not as if Janet didn’t make friends everywhere she went. Whatever Janet’s reasons, Freya would never let her down. Would always be there for her, no matter what.

Freya pushed herself into a space near the bar. She placed her order, indicating the table where Janet was sitting, before taking her drink and joining her friend.

“Freya, can you believe this monsoon?” Janet gestured to her soaked jacket hanging on the back of her chair. “Have to say though, the relief from the heat is welcome. Anyway, how are you? How is the accounting going?

“Um, I got a new accountant.” Freya paused, “So how’s life treating you? Is Greystone—?”

“Whoa, girl. Not so fast,” Janet interrupted, eyes gleaming, “You can’t just drop that in and not give me the rest. It’s that guy you saw last week isn’t it; the tall handsome one with the dark eyes?”

Freya tried her hardest not to smile and completely failed. Her gaze tracked to the bar while she struggled to reply. Janet’s delighted laughter had Freya rolling her eyes.