Time Traveler to Next Door Page 2

  I narrowed my eyes. "How do you know where I l ve?"

  "A fellow n my Engl sh class told me when I ment oned our house to h m."

  I began to worry about what else they'd told h m, or what he'd told them for that matter.

  "Actually, I always walk home w th Adele." The latter jumped up from the bench. "Not today. I have detent on, remember?" She levelled her gaze at Rupert. "I got caught text ng n PE."

  "Bugger," Rupert sa d, frown ng, "I hate t when that happens."

  "Total pa n," Adele agreed. At that second, the bell sounded. I p cked up my backpack from the bench. "I'll meet you at the gates," I sa d to Rupert. "I can't wa t f you're late."

  A l e. It d dn't matter n the sl ghtest. Home wasn't a place I was part cularly keen to be.

  He pushed h s glasses further up h s nose. "Of course not. Don't worry, I never keep a lady wa t ng." Adele grabbed my arm and marched me away. We made t all the way to the Maths block before she had to stop and double over n laughter. "H lar ous," she sa d, w p ng tears from her eyes. D d you hear h m? I never keep a lady wa t ng."

  I shushed her, glanc ng over my shoulder n case Rupert had watched us leave.

  "Why d dn't you tell me you'd met the new boy?"

  I shrugged. "There were other th ngs on my m nd." The old Adele would have cajoled me nto g v ng a blow by blow account of our meet ng. The g rl who used to be me would have told her everyth ng. Instead Adele chewed her l p and released my arm. She never asked about the th ngs on my m nd. Half of me was mad at her about t, the other grateful. We tra led to reg strat on n s lence. She d dn't ment on Rupert aga n.

  When the bell s gnalled the end of the day, I grabbed my bag and hurr ed to the gate. I hoped that Rupert wouldn't be there, that I could walk home along the beach the way I usually d d when I was alone. But there he stood, h s tank top as wh te as the sm le he flashed me.

  "Good to see you," he sa d. "I rather thought you m ght try and escape early so you could be alone."

  A m nd reader. Perhaps he was a w zard a er all. "No. Why would I want that?" He s ghed. "Correct me f I'm wrong. I have, a er all, been a pup l at Port Haven for a mere day, but I'm beg nn ng to th nk I m ght be someth ng of a spectacle. Is t the clothes?"

  I sm led. "I don't th nk Port Haven s qu te ready for you yet." As I began to walk away from the school grounds, Rupert fell nto step at my s de. Most of the other students at Port Haven H gh l ved around town, away from the beach. We were alone as I led h m along the road towards the sea.

  "I overheard a boy n my B ology class say he thought that a young lady named Bryony Wells wassck," he sa d suddenly. "He kept say ng t over and over. She's s ck, Bryony s s ck. She's a s ck g rl. In the end I suggested that he m ght adv se her to seek med cal attent on."

  "S ck actually means good," I expla ned, gr nn ng.

  A crease formed between h s brows. "You mean t's good to be s ck?"

  "Not be s ck, as n ll, but cool, trendy, fash onable."

  He nodded, perplexed. "I see."

  "Where d d you say you were from aga n?" I asked h m.

  He cleared h s throat. "I grew up abroad, n the Arab states." "Ah," I sa d, p ctur ng a t ny pocket of post-colon al England, where h gh tea was served at noon on a starched wh te table cloth and where they h t a gong n the even ng to let everyone know to wash up for supper. "Th s must all seem so strange to you."

  He sco ed. "Clement ne, you have no dea." We strolled n s lence, unt l the road ran nto dust and the houses th nned out. The ocean appeared on the hor zon, grey and frothy, a dark monster foam ng at the jaws. The w nd p cked up when we reached the seafront, my dark ha r flung around my head l ke Medusa's n the cave. I d dn't m nd. I l ked the beach l ke th s. I could

  mag ne that the w nd m ght l me up too, sp r t me away l ke Dorothy to a place where the real world ex sted only n fragments. A land of dreams.

  I'd almost forgotten Rupert was w th me unt l he sa d, "Well, th s s me." I glanced around us. We were stand ng near the back of the beach beneath the cl face, pebbles and seaweed strewn n the sand at our feet.

  "Pardon," I sa d, "What s you?"

  Rupert po nted up to the top of the overhang. "The house s up there."

  I craned my neck to stare up at the cl . The d lap dated roof was just v s ble above the jutt ng rock.

  "There can't be a way up from here," I sa d.

  He gr nned. "I d d say t was a b t d cey. I'll see you tomorrow, Clement ne."

  W th that he turned towards the cl face and gr pped onto a black metal ladder embedded nto the rock.

  "You're not ser ous?" I excla med.

  "Don't look so pan cked. There's a set of sta rs a b t further up." I stared beyond the ladder, where the rock br efly gave way nto tussocks of grass and not ced there was ndeed a r ckety wooden set of sta rs that ran r ght to the top.

  Just before he began to cl mb, he turned, h s blue eyes sombre. "I forgot to say. I'm awfully sorry about your mother."

  The a r went out of my lungs for a few seconds, but then I breathed deeply, rel eved w thout qu te know ng why. "Thank you."

  He nodded and grabbed the metal, heav ng h mself onto the f rst rung. I rema ned rooted to the spot, ready to call for the ambulance as soon as th s went wrong, and he crashed onto the beach. When he reached the top of the ladder and hauled h mself onto the narrow ledge, he glanced down and gave a jaunty wave. Then he cl mbed up the old wooden steps as f he had every conf dence they were safe, eventually d sappear ng nto the mass of brambles at the top.

  "He's mental," I muttered, shak ng my head.

  Then a vo ce yelled from up above. "I'm st ll al ve, Clement ne! See you tomorrow!"

  For once, I went home sm l ng.

  Chapter Three

  Hello,sorryforthedelay.I'vebeenonholday nthebeautful CanaryIslandshavngarelaxngtme.LucklyImanagedtowrte mostofthschapterbeforeIle andIfnshed to thsmornng. Thankyouforreadng:)

  ************************************************************* Accord ng to Dad, t was Mum who f rst ment oned mov ng to the coast. She sa d she wanted to be able to l ve n a place where you could leave home and not see another l v ng soul for at least f ve m nutes.

  Before Port Haven we l ved n a flat n London. Dad worked for a telev s on stud o, wr t ng as part of a team for a popular hosp tal drama and Mum was the ward manager they brought over from the c ty hosp tal to adv se them on plot l nes. Mum o en remarked they made an odd couple; an ex-nurse and a wr ter. If t wasn't for her, she sa d, Dad m ght have marr ed another telev s on person, perhaps even an actress.

  I suppose there's noth ng to stop h m now. The house was dark when I arr ved home, the wh te shutters on the w ndows shutt ng the world and everyth ng n t out. I t ptoed along the black-and-wh te t led hallway and put my keys as gently as I could upon the long wooden bench beneath the coat hooks.

  I d dn't bother go ng upsta rs to check on Dad. He would be n one of two places; n the study star ng out to sea, or asleep n bed. Instead, I tra led through to the k tchen to see what I could f nd to make us for d nner.

  At f rst, when Mum passed away, ne ghbours and fr ends were constantly n and out; t dy ng up, prepar ng meals, do ng laundry. Though I knew the r ntent ons were good, I couldn't help but feel angry. Why d d the d ce land on us and not them? What made them so spec al that a er do ng the r good deed for the day, they could go home, safe and secure to be w th the people they loved?

  I shook o the dark thoughts as I opened the refr gerator door and l ed a packet of salmon from the shelf. The meals I made for Dad and I were always s mple. Part of me hoped he'd grow bored of them and beg n cook ng for us aga n.

  So far, no joy. Once I'd peeled the potatoes and plopped them nto the pan, I fl pped open the shutters on the k tchen w ndows. Pale sunl ght streamed nto the gloom, turn ng the room golden.

  The rear of the house faced the ocean, the churn ng waves v s ble beyond the f elds at the bottom of the garden. Mum had gotten her w sh. On an average day, you could walk and not see another person for at least hal
f an hour. Although we d d have ne ghbours, most of the houses were hol day lets or second homes and were usually qu et out of season.

  I stood on t ptoes and leaned over the s nk, try ng to catch a gl mpse of what was now Rupert's house. But all I could see was the dark clump of trees at the edge of the hor zon. They even blocked the roof from th s angle.

  "Hello, Sweetheart." I spun around to see Dad n the doorway, rubb ng h s eyes as f he'd just woken up. He was dressed n h s usual gr ev ng att re, a hybr d of pyjamas and work out cloth ng that meant he d dn't have to d erent ate between n ght and day.

  "H , Dad."

  He gave a weak sm le as he ambled over to the refr gerator and took out a carton of ju ce. "How was school today?"

  "Good," I sa d. "There's a new boy."

  Anyth ng to get a react on.

  "Oh, what's he l ke?"

  "A b t b zarre. You'll never guess where he's l v ng?"

  Dad reached nto the cupboard for a glass and plonked t down on the k tchen sland. "Where?"

  I po nted at the w ndow. "The old house on the cl , the one Mum always sa d would make a good art st's retreat." I couldn't gnore the way h s hand trembled when I ment oned Mum. Some of the orange ju ce splashed onto the counter. He gr maced. "Are you sure he's not mak ng t up? I'm pretty sure no one would touch t. For one, there's the ssue of eros on."

  I b t my tongue. I d dn't want to ment on that I'd seen h m there myself. The argument we had that day was st ll raw, the harsh words l nger ng l ke ghosts n the a r between us.

  "I don't th nk he'd l e."

  "Well, h s parents must be crazy." He screwed the top back onto the ju ce and put t back nto the fr dge, mak ng no attempt to mop up the sp ll. I breathed deeply, push ng down the anger and resentment that always seemed to bubble up to the surface around h m lately.

  "D d you see anyone today?" I asked hopefully. "D d Grandma call?"

  "No," he sa d. "She wouldn't call wh le you're at school. Bes des, f she d d I wouldn't answer." He sounded petulant, l ke a ch ld. The words I shouted at h m popped nto my head. They were st ll relevant. I couldn't take them back.

  You'retheparent.I'mthechld.Ishouldbetheonerefusngtocome outoftherroom,notyou.You'repathetc.

  Then, because I wanted h m to hurt, to know that he could feel someth ng other than pa n:

  Shewasalwaystoogoodforyou. It wasn't true. I'd never even cons dered the not on before, but could tell t struck a nerve. He'd glared at me, rage puls ng n h s eyes and I'd fled.

  "I'm mak ng salmon for d nner," I sa d, chang ng the subject.

  He nodded. "G ve me a shout when t's ready."

  W th that, he tra led from the room, back to the shadows.

  I s ghed and dec ded to postpone d nner. Whether t was early or late, Dad would hardly care. In the l v ng room, I opened more shutters. The a r smelled musty, of trapped heat and stale cook ng. I opened one of the bay w ndows at the front of the house to let the a r c rculate.

  The l v ng room was one of the few rooms n the house that stayed t dy. Probably because we so rarely used t now. A neatly stacked p le of wood sat bes de the open f re, a pa r of sofas arranged around the hearth. There were fam ly photos on the oppos te wall. I tr ed hard not to look at them as I removed the house phone from the end table and d alled Grandma's number.

  She answered almost mmed ately. "Hello, Clem. How was school?"

  "Hello, t was f ne. How are you?" "Oh you know, not bad. Just potter ng as usual." There was a long pause and I wa ted for the nev table quest on about her son. "How's your father today?"

  "He's up," I sa d. "Sort of."

  She s ghed. "What d d you have for lunch?" I gave her a br ef account of the food I'd eaten and assured her that I arr ved at school on t me w th all the correct books. Another teenager m ght be annoyed at the nterrogat on. I sought comfort n

  t. "I'll be over on Saturday as usual," she sa d br skly. "How about we try and get your father out for d nner? Maybe that n ce Ital an place on the H gh Street. He used to love Ital an food."

  "He used to love a lot of th ngs," I muttered.

  "I know, Sweetheart, I know." We were s lent for a few seconds. I slumped onto one of the sofas and began p ck ng at the edge of a cush on. "It's just," I sa d, my chest t ghten ng at the terr fy ng prospect of speak ng the truth, "w th Dad the way he s, I feel as f I've lost both parents."

  Grandma sucked n a breath. "But you haven't."

  Tears, hot and salty, dr pped onto my cheeks. "Yes, I have."

  "Put h m on the phone, w ll you, Clem?"

  My eyes w dened. I sw ped the tears from my face. "Why? What w ll you say? He m ght get even more upset."

  "Clem, he's my son. I know how to talk to h m." Reluctantly, I rose from the sofa and padded through nto the hallway. "Dad?" I called nto the upsta rs gloom. "Grandma wants to speak to you."

  An age passed before he appeared, grumbl ng under h s breath. He descended the sta rs and took the phone from me. He d dn't even not ce my tears.

  "Mum?" he barked, as he retreated back the way he came. I went back nto the l v ng room and closed the door, then I let my m nd dr to that ord nary day late last Autumn when my whole world fell apart.

  When acc dents happen on telev s on or n the mov es, you see the bu ld-up. There's ce on the road or the person dr v ng loses concentrat on for a spl t second. Then the pol ce show up at the front door hold ng the r hats. In real l fe there's no warn ng. I had no way of know ng that the hurr ed k ss I gave Mum that fateful morn ng would be the last.

  The pol ce d dn't show up at our door. Instead my grandparents turned up at school to collect me. Mum was n the hosp tal, they sa d, n a bad way but qu te al ve. She'd been found ly ng njured n the road outs de the sports centre where she took a weekly yoga class.

  A suspected h t and run. By the t me we reached the hosp tal, however, she'd passed away from nternal bleed ng. I had one quest on for the doctors. If the person dr v ng had stopped and called an ambulance would she have made t? The doctor had shaken h s head n that madden ng way people n author ty do when they're not at l berty to be completely honest. We'll never know, he sa d, face creased n sympathy. Star ng nto h s eyes, I had a v s on of h m go ng home that n ght, tell ng h s w fe how he lost a pat ent, how he'd had to break the news to the woman's daughter. H s w fe would hug h m, perhaps pour h m a glass of red w ne. Somewhere between the w ne and the next morn ng, he would forget all about me and Mum. In that moment, I env ed h m more than I'd ever env ed anyone. He could forget. But we never could. L fe as we knew t was over.

  Upsta rs, the d stant rumble of Dad's vo ce stopped. I stared at the charg ng stat on and not ced the LED l ght turn from red to green. I wa ted for a few moments, half expect ng Dad to come downsta rs to talk.

  When he d dn't appear, I went back nto the k tchen to unwrap the salmon. The house phone rang aga n and I p cked up the k tchen extens on, expect ng t to be Grandma.

  Instead, Adele's exc table tones greeted me.

  "Hey. How was detent on?" I asked her.

  "The usual bore fest," she sa d, "though everyone was talk ng about the new boy. R ch e Donovan th nks h s father's a spy w th MI5."

  I wr nkled my nose, p ctur ng R ch e's p mply face. "I'm surpr sed R ch e Donovan knows what the MI5 s." "That's not the best part," she cont nued, gnor ng my d g at R ch e. "Accord ng to Jack Norton, he wasn't on any of the reg sters n the classes they had together."

  "So? It's the f rst week of term, they probably d dn't upload h s deta ls yet." "That's what I suggested too, but n last per od, Mrs Penn ngton sent M ss Gallagher to the o ce to f nd out why he wasn't on the system, and when she came back the pa r were wh sper ng at the front for ages. Soph e Knox thought she heard M ss Gallagher tell her that the o ce had no record of a Rupert Holt.

  A ch ll z pped up my sp ne and I sh vered. "It's probably an adm n strat on error. Some k ds go by d erent names to the ones on the r documents. R cky, a boy n my art class, s actually called Rakesh."

  "I guess we'll f nd out tomorrow."
I frowned. Suddenly, the thought of Rupert not be ng around struck me w th fresh horror. I hadn't real sed qu te how much he nterested me unt l now. "I guess we w ll. I better go. I need to f n sh d nner."

  "What's on ton ght's menu? Lobster? Beef Well ngton?"

  I adopted a French accent. "No Mademo selle. Tesco salmon f llets w th frozen vegetables."

  "Ah a f ne cu s ne. I recommend the Sauv gnon Blanc to accompany the f sh."

  "Thank you. I must go now and g ve the nstruct on to the wa ter." We g ggled as we sa d our goodbyes and I sl pped the phone back nto ts cradle. On mpulse, I clambered up onto the k tchen counter,

  the sh ny gran te surface as cold as a mortuary slab beneath my

  knees, unt l I was h gh enough to see the ch mney of the old house n the d stance.

  "Where d d you come from?" I wh spered, watch ng as a gust of w nd st rred the trees. I prayed fur ously that he would be n school tomorrow, that watch ng h m scramble up the s de of the cl was not the last I ever saw of the magnan mous Rupert Holt.

  Chapter Four

  I arr ved at school the next morn ng to f nd the form room awash w th exc tement once more. M a Pearson held court n the centre of the room, her fa thful m n ons clustered around her l ke lad es n wa t ng to the queen. When she spotted Adele and me, she paused m d-sentence.

  "Clement ne? D d you hear the latest on the new boy?"

  My stomach clenched. Had he already sk pped town?

  "No," I sa d, redden ng. "What d d he do?" M a sm rked. "My mum s on the PTA and she's fr ends w th Mrs Russo n Student Adm ss ons. Apparently, they'd never even heard of a Rupert Holt unt l yesterday a ernoon. They'll be speak ng to h m as soon as he arr ves th s morn ng."

  "Oh, s that all?" I sa d, try ng to sound nonchalant. "I thought everyone already knew that."

  "Told you," Adele wh spered as we took our seats. "MI5 for sure." For the whole day I couldn't concentrate. I watched the clock dur ng lessons, look ng forward to the moment I could escape nto the corr dors to hunt for Rupert. There was no s gn of h m, and no one seemed to have any fresh nformat on e ther. By a ernoon