Time Traveler to Next Door Read online

  reg strat on, everyone had a new top c of ntr gue: the f ght between two year eleven boys at luncht me and the fact one had h t the other w th a Bunsen burner stolen from a sc ence lab. L fe moves on qu ckly n H gh school.

  By the t me the f nal bell rang, I st ll hadn't seen or heard anyth ng of Rupert. Instead of leav ng, I fought the t de of pup ls com ng through the Engl sh department and went n the oppos te d rect on towards the ma n o ce.

  I wa ted pat ently n front of the glass sl d ng doors. Usually pup ls (and parents) were made to wa t a regulat on two m nutes before a member of sta would condescend to sl de back the hatch. But today I caught M ss Turner's eye mmed ately. Probably th nk ng I was about to announce a nervous breakdown, she crossed to the glass and sl d t open.

  "Hello there, Clement ne. Everyth ng okay?" "Er, yes, well no. The th ng s..." I took a breath. It was h ghly unl kely, what w th conf dent al ty and all, that she would tell me anyth ng, but t was worth a shot. "The new boy Rupert Holt. He l ves near me and I haven't seen h m all day. I was wonder ng f he m ght be s ck or someth ng."

  A fl cker of anx ety passed across M ss Turner's face. I could tell she was dec d ng whether to s mply tell me the truth. "Ah," she sa d, sweep ng a gaze around the recept on area for potent al

  eavesdroppers. "We actually haven't seen h m today." She paused, as she scanned my face. "Perhaps f you see h m, you could ment on we'd l ke a word. The th ng s, he wasn't properly enrolled, and we'd rather l ke to speak to h s parent or guard an on the matter."

  I took a step back. "Oh er, well. I'm not sure I w ll see h m." "Obv ously t's a b t of a worry," M ss Turner went on, "a random student turn ng up who no one knows. If he's l v ng alone, we'd have to contact soc al serv ces."

  "He l ves w th h s father, I bel eve. At least, that's what he sa d."

  She sm led. "Just tell h m to pop n. I'm sure t can be sorted out."

  "Okay," I sa d, edg ng away, "and thanks for lett ng me know."

  I bolted outs de to where Adele wa ted by our bench. "What were you do ng n the o ce?" she asked.

  For some reason, I d dn't want to tell her the truth. "I thought I'd lost my phone but then I remembered t's n my coat pocket."

  "Oh," she sa d, haul ng her rucksack onto her back. "Well, thank God the f rst week s over that's all I have to say."

  "Yeah, only th rty-e ght more to go before next summer."

  Adele arched a brow. "Doable."

  "So, I guess the new boy d dn't show up," I sa d, as we wove our way through the other pup ls to the gates. She slapped a hand to her forehead. "I completely forgot. What on earth happened to Harry Potter? Do you th nk t was so horr fy ng here that he begged h s father to send h m back to Eton?"

  I chuckled. "Maybe. Though f that's the case, thank goodness he d dn't w tness the Bunsen burner scrap."

  "W ll you call on h m to see?" Adele asked, pull ng her phone out of her pocket and tapp ng at the screen. The very thought had been float ng around my head ever s nce I le the o ce. "I should," I sa d, remember ng what M ss Turner sa d about call ng soc al serv ces. It m ght be w se to warn h m.

  St ll star ng at her phone, Adele sa d, "I can come too, f you l ke?"

  "It's okay," I sa d qu ckly, "I won't go ton ght anyway. Too much homework."

  "But you've got the whole weekend to do homework."

  "Yeah, but you know I l ke to get t over w th on Fr days, so I can have the weekend free."

  Th s at least, was not a l e.

  "What are you do ng tomorrow?"

  "D nner w th Grandma and Dad f we can get h m out. How about you?" "I have drama group n the morn ng and then Dad wants to see the new Bond mov e. Perhaps we could meet up on Sunday for church and brunch?"

  I gr nned. "That would be splend d, I've kn tted Chr stmas stock ngs for the orphanage and I'd l ke Father Emery's op n on on the wool." We both g ggled. Occas onally, n certa n moments, I forgot

  everyth ng had changed. Somet mes I went back to be ng the old Clement ne, the one who joked about w th her best fr end and d dn't have a real care n the world.

  We ambled along n a comfortable s lence unt l we reached the corner of Adele's road.

  "I'll call you Sunday then," she sa d.

  "Yep. Enjoy James Bond."

  She rolled her eyes. "L ke that's go ng to happen." We waved, and I tra led towards home, my gaze f xed ahead. I never allowed myself to so much as glance at the l ttle play park near Adele's road. L ke certa n parts of the beach, too many happy Mum memor es were assoc ated w th t.

  As soon as I turned onto shore road, the ocean assaulted my senses. A pungent tang of seaweed and salt l ngered n the mo st a r, the screech of seagulls obl terat ng the no se of the town. The sea called to me, urg ng me to lose myself n the roar of waves. I read

  somewhere that once-upon-a-t me humans came from the ocean, that m ll ons of years ago we were all just sea creatures. I can't help but th nk l fe m ght be a lot eas er f we st ll were.

  Although I'd told Adele I wouldn't go and see Rupert today, I ended up walk ng to the very end of Shore Road, and headed along the beach towards home.

  The t de was out, seaweed and dr wood strewn across the sand. As usual the old f sh hut was boarded up. Ern e, the ret red man who sold f sh there most days, never opened past m dday. The beach was deserted.

  Almost. As I strolled, I caught s ght of a hunched shape s tt ng cross legged on one of the wooden groynes, messy brown ha r blow ng n the w nd as sunl ght gl nted o the frames of h s w re spectacles.

  My stomach fl pped. I'd know those monochrome brogues

  anywhere. He d dn't see me approach, or f he d d, he d dn't let on. When I got w th n a few feet of h m, I stopped. He wore a mask of sorrow, h s mouth f xed n a gr m l ne. H s face rem nded me of Dad's when he thought no one was look ng—an express on of raw despa r was etched across h s features.

  "H , Rupert," I sa d, my throat dry. "How come you weren't n school today?"

  He turned h s gaze towards me, h s eyel ds flutter ng. "Oh, hello there, Clement ne. Sorry I was n a world of my own."

  He bl nked rap dly, as f try ng to rouse h mself from a dream.

  "Is everyth ng alr ght?" I asked h m.

  "No," he sa d, star ng nto the d stance at the churn ng sea. "No, t sn't." "If th s s because of school," I went on, "then don't worry. M ss Turner sa d to pop nto the o ce and they'll sort t all out." I glanced up the cl at the overgrown tangle of weeds shelter ng the house. "Even f your dad s away, he can probably scan n the forms or someth ng."

  Rupert frowned. "What forms?"

  "For adm ss on to school. That's why you're upset sn't t? Because you weren't properly enrolled, and people made a fuss." H s blue eyes f nally met m ne. "No, Clement ne. That sn't why I'm upset. I only showed up at the school because I thought t m ght be n ce to see you aga n."

  "Then what s t?" I asked, gnor ng h s last comment. "Are you l v ng alone? D d your Dad walk out on you?"

  He nhaled deeply and closed h s eyes. "If I tell you someth ng, Clement ne, w ll you prom se me one th ng?"

  "That depends on what the prom se s. I can't prom se to keep a prom se unless I know what t s f rst." He s ghed. "Prom se you'll stay stand ng there unt l I've f n shed tell ng you. Prom se you won't run o when I start to say th ngs that m ght not exactlyftw th your worldv ew."

  I gulped. R ch e Donovan had t r ght for once. He really was w th the MI5.

  "Okay," I sa d, my heart beg nn ng to flutter. "I prom se to stay stand ng here unt l you've f n shed speak ng." He unfolded h s long legs from beneath h m so that they hung down the s de of the groyne. H s brogues I not ced were far more battered than they had been yesterday. "Thank you."

  A few moments of s lence passed before he spoke, and when he d d. I wasn't sure f I'd heard correctly. "I'm from another t me."

  "Another t me," I repeated.

  "Yes. The twent es to be exact. N neteen twenty-s x."

  "You mean, you feel l ke you're from another t me, that's why you

  dress
that way." I mot oned to the kn tted tank top and be ge slacks.a

  He sm led sadly. "No, and th s s the part where you'll want to run o and where I rem nd you of the vow you made to let me f n sh."

  I dug my heels further nto the sand. "I'm not runn ng o ." "My uncle s an nventor, a sc ent st. I came to stay w th h m for the summer, on hol day from Eton. My mother and father do l ve n the Arab states, what I told you about that wasn't a l e, but th s summer, I mean thatsummer, I d dn't want to go home. I wanted to stay n England and spend t me w th my fr ends. Bern e Wals ngham was go ng to teach me how to row at h s parent's place n Egham—I had lots of plans. But my uncle wasn't qu te, how shall I put t, qu te as luc d as I remembered. He'd grown obsessed w th h s nvent ons, one n part cular—"

  "Let me guess," I nterjected. "A t me mach ne." By th s po nt n h s story, d sappo ntment had started to s nk l ke stone to the p t of my stomach. Trust me to make a new fr end who turned out to be completely loopy.

  "Not a t me mach ne exactly. An nstrument, one that could harness certa n elements that made t poss ble to sl p through t me."

  "And he dec ded to pract se on you?" I couldn't help t. Sarcasm leaked nto my vo ce l ke po son. Rupert pushed h s glasses up h s nose. "It's okay. I d dn't expect you to bel eve me. "He d dn't dec de to pract se on me, no. There was a storm one even ng and the power went out. I went to Uncle's study to ask h m where I m ght f nd the matches. But he wasn't there. I was rummag ng around n h s desk drawers when I not ced t—a gold monstrance on the w ndow s ll."

  "A what?" "A monstrance or an ostensory, s a rel g ous artefact pr ests use n mass to show the congregat on the blessed sacrament. Th s one was gold w th a sunburst—a real beauty and very valuable look ng. The last th ng I remember s l ng t up and hear ng a very loud crash. When I came to, I was ly ng n an empty room full of rubble, no longer n the correct t me. I've been stuck here ever s nce." He stared at me, eyes round w th worry beh nd h s glasses. "Well, you heard me out. Here's where you scarper o up the beach." He threw up h s hands. "No blame or judgement whatsoever. Thank you for l sten ng."

  I rema ned, rooted nto the sand l ke l chen to a rock. "Do you th nk the Monstrance th ng m ght have been respons ble?" I asked.

  Rel ef flooded h s features. "Do you bel eve me?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm n shock to be honest."

  "I bel eve the monstrance m ght be an nstrument Uncle was exper ment ng w th. Other than that, I have no dea." My bra n was foggy, as f I'd become mmersed n a really gr pp ng story and forgot for a second that none of th s could be real. I ordered myself to get a gr p. Rupert was a confused boy w th parent ng ssues. The school really would have to contact soc al serv ces.

  "If th s s true," I sa d, "where's the proof?"

  Rupert gestured to h mself. "Is th s not proof enough? Bes des, why would I make t up?"

  Insan ty, sch zophren a; the l st was endless. I kept those thoughts however, f rmly ns de my head.

  "There must be some way to prove you're not absolutely bark ng," I po nted out. He rubbed h s ch n thoughtfully. "Well, let's see. I could g ve you names and dates of b rth of my fam ly members, nclud ng myself, though that wouldn't prove much."

  "A photo would. If there's a photo of you from that t me." He snapped h s f ngers. "Eton. The cr cket team photo. Taken n September n neteen twenty-f ve. I'll be n that alr ght. We beat Harrow by seventeen runs thanks to me."

  "W ll t be on the nternet?"

  "The what?" he asked, clearly ba led.

  "Never m nd. I'll tell you what. I'll look t up ton ght and f I f nd you, I'll come over tomorrow."

  "And f you don't?"

  I opened my mouth to tell h m I'd probably never see h m aga n but closed t aga n stra ght away. I shrugged nstead.

  Rupert glanced up at the sky, where grey clouds were gather ng overhead, the a r th ck w th mo sture.

  "It's go ng to ra n," he sa d. "You'd better make a dash for t."

  I heaved my bag onto my shoulder and nodded. "Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow."

  "I hope so, Clement ne." As I strolled o up the beach, l ghtheaded w th a pecul ar

  exc tement, I knew n my heart, photo or no photo, that I'd see h m very soon.

  Chapter Five

  I should have run stra ght upsta rs to the study the second I burst through the front door. I wanted to. Exc tement buzzed ns de me, flutter ng around n my bra n l ke a fly trapped at a w ndow. I tched to get onl ne and type Rupert Holt nto the subject l ne.

  But I d dn't. I couldn't cope w th the crash and burn f he wasn't who he sa d he was. I needed th s sense ofhope, no matter how r d culous, to last just a fract on longer.

  Instead of runn ng upsta rs to the study, I went nto the k tchen and fl cked the kettle on.

  "Dad," I called. "Would you l ke a co ee?" Footsteps pounded down the sta rs and I wa ted for h m to shu le n the way he always d d—sleepy and confused. He surpr sed me by appear ng beh nd the door dressed n jeans and a sweater, hold ng a bulg ng black b n l ner n one hand.

  "No thanks," he sa d, w p ng a th n sheen of sweat from h s brow. "I'm just on my way out w th these."

  I stared at the bag. "What's that?"

  A shadow of gu lt fl ckered across h s face, and I knew what he would say before the words le h s l ps.

  "Mum's th ngs."

  My buzz d ed a death. "What th ngs?" I asked coldly.

  He averted h s gaze, repos t on ng the bag under h s arm. "Just clothes and shoes."

  I frowned. "Why d dn't you ask me to help? There m ght be th ngs I want to keep." He em tted a w ther ng s gh. "How am I ever supposed to move on f I'm constantly surrounded by her stu ? It's not so bad for you, you d dn't share a room w th her. You don't wake up every morn ng w th noth ng but a gap ng vo d bes de you."

  As the kettle began to bo l, anger beat a fam l ar path through my ve ns. "I wake up w th a vo d every day too," I sa d, po nt ng to my heart. "In here."

  H s chest rose and fell v s bly as he stared at me. I half expected h m to turn and walk back nto the hall.

  "I know," he sa d. "I just wanted to do someth ng pos t ve for a change. Take a step forward."

  I nodded, my rage dropp ng a notch. "It s a step forward." But before rel ef could creep nto the chasm, I was gr pped w th a gl mpse of an alternate real ty, a future where Dad moved on; met somebody new and moved her nto our home. Suddenly, the cereal bowls and sleep rout ne d dn't seem so bad a er all. I swallowed the thought and met h s eye.

  "Prom se me you won't throw away any of her personal stu w thout ask ng me."

  H s shoulders sagged. "Clem, of course not. How on earth could you th nk that?"

  *** As soon as the sound of the car eng ne faded, I was on t. I took the sta rs two at a t me, my heart beat ng l ke a war drum as I headed along the upsta rs land ng to Dad's study. I pushed open the door and peered nto the darkness. The bl nds were shut, the a r musty and stale. I strode across to the w ndow and fl pped open the slats, gr mac ng as I took n the state of the room.

  Dad's once t dy o ce now resembled student d gs. Co ee cups l ttered the desk; empty DVD cases strewn across the floor. My chest t ghtened when I saw that on one of the DVD cases,OurWeddng, was wr tten n Sharp e pen. I also not ced several photos of Mum amongst the debr s, scattered around l ke autumn leaves. I stepped over the mess to the computer and sl d onto the stool, determ ned not to look at them.

  The mach ne was already f red up. I cl cked onto the nternet con and wa ted, palms sl ck w th sweat, for the Google search bar to appear.

  Tak ng a deep breath, I typed, EtonCrcketTeam1925. I closed my eyes wh le the blue c rcle d d ts th ng, the seconds stretch ng nto etern ty.

  When I opened them, a few t ny photos labelled Images,had appeared on the screen .I cl cked onto the f rst one wh ch transferred me to a sea of black-and-wh te photographs. L ghtheaded w th trep dat on, I scrolled through the p ctures, my eyes f xed on the r head ngs. As well as the publ c-school team, the search eng ne had thrown up all manner of 1920s sport ng mage
s.

  Eventually, I found the one I needed. A group shot of around ten young men dressed n str ped caps and cr cket wh tes, s lk cravats knotted jaunt ly around the r necks. The capt on read:EtonPublcSchoolCrcketTeam,1925. W th a trembl ng hand I cl cked on the p cture. The l nk took me to another page, a webs te ded cated to v ntage photos. Lean ng close to the mon tor, I spotted h m nstantly. H s messy brown ha r was parted fopp shly to one s de, a generous amount of wax hold ng the locks n place. They had most l kely been told not to sm le for the photo, but Rupert gr nned broadly, h s eyes full of m sch ef. Beneath the photograph were the players names and there, wedged between Mr. B Wals ngham and Mr. T Cru , was the conf rmat on Rupert prom sed: Mr.RHolt

  I sat back on the stool and exhaled slowly. Then I cons dered the poss b l ty that he m ght be ly ng. There was, a er all, a small chance that the Rupert n the photo was merely a relat ve or an uncanny look-a-l ke he'd chanced upon. Perhaps he was mentally ll and had fabr cated the whole scenar o, faked the p cture and posted t on the

  nternet. The two poss b l t es were far more l kely than h s story, yet for the l fe of me I couldn't doubt h m. An mage of h m from earl er popped nto my head. The lost look n h s eyes as he sat utterly bere on the beach. I knew that look very well. It was the look a person had when everyth ng they'd ever loved had been snu ed out. I saw t most days when I glanced nto the m rror; w tnessed t every day on Dad.

  He wasn't ly ng. I felt completely sure of t. Wh ch meant two th ngs s multaneously: the f rst, that the boy l v ng at the edge of the cl was n fact a t me traveller, and the second, the b g one, that t me travel was poss ble.

  My stomach clenched as my eye snagged on a fallen photograph of Mum. I crouched down to p ck t up. The photo had been taken before I was born, when the two of them had v s ted Italy. I knew all about that tr p because they'd stayed at a terr ble hotel they n cknamed 'Fawlty Towers' a er the TV show. Every hol day we went on, they always joked about t. The hotel was the r bench mark of awful hosp tal ty.