Time Traveler to Next Door Read online

  In the photo, Mum's ha r was long and blonde, and parted n the centre. She wore jeans and a blue vest top; the s lver horseshoe necklace Dad gave her for the r one-year ann versary hang ng around her neck. L ke Rupert n h s cr cket photo, she was sm l ng broadly, a lake and mounta ns beh nd her n the d stance. I propped the photo up bes de the computer screen, marvell ng the way I always d d how l fe obscured death r ght down to the f nal m nute. No one ever saw

  t com ng, and yet t always came—a black, ever present cloud wh ch would someday cla m us forever.

  I stared between Mum's photo and Rupert's, between the person who shouldn't be here and the person who should.

  "T me travel," I wh spered, my eyes dart ng between them as a w ld dea formed n my m nd. If Rupert had somehow got here, then t had to be poss ble to send h m back. And f that was poss ble then I could t me travel too. I could travel r ght back to the day of Mum's h t and run. I could prevent her from ever stepp ng nto the road. I could have my mother back.

  I was so mmersed n my thoughts that I d dn't hear Dad's car turn nto the dr veway unt l the front door banged open.

  "I'm back, Clem," he called, footsteps thudd ng along the hall. "Do you want to order p zza for d nner?"

  "Yes," I yelled. "That sounds good." I stared at Mum's photo for a moment longer before stu ng t nto my blazer pocket. Fresh resolve nfused me w th an odd sense of contentment.

  As f I was back n control of my l fe at last.

  Chapter Six

  The next morn ng, I was up and ready to leave by e ght o'clock. Grandma usually arr ved early on a Saturday to t dy and clean, so I needed to be out of the house before she could ask awkward quest ons.

  Though t d dn't appear to be part cularly cold outs de, I dressed n th ck jeans and a waterproof coat. I d dn't want to get slashed by th stles on my way to Rupert's abandoned shack. Bes des, on the coast, you could never tell unt l you ventured out just how b t ng the w nd would be.

  The morn ng was br ght and clear, a few s lvery w sps of cloud lac ng the clear blue sky. As I suspected, a ch ll hung n the a r, a prom se of cr sp autumn days that would smother the last breath of summer. I wasn't sorry to see t go. The cold sharpened everyth ng, and I would need to be sharp f I wanted to help Rupert.

  My heart beat faster as I made my way through the dew-soaked grass to the gate at the bottom of the garden. I d dn't exhale unt l I was half way across the f eld beyond our house.

  Other than a man walk ng h s dog, there was no one around. I slowed my pace as he headed towards the beach, not want ng to cross paths w th h m. Luck ly, he walked fast. Before long he and h s dog d sappeared along the sandy track to the sea. I let myself through the gate and took a le along the overgrown path towards the house. The th stles were as sharp as ever, the br ght blue sky h dden by the canopy of trees. I moved sw ly, my jeans protect ng me from the snag of th stles. When I reached the ron gates w th the faded gold letters, I hung back for a few seconds, recall ng as I always d d, the old vers on of me.

  The Clement ne w th a mother at home wouldn't have come today. She would have told someone, probably Mum, who would have known exactly what to do. She never would have bel eved for an

  nstant that Rupert's story m ght be true.

  Though I usually env ed the other vers on of me, today I pushed open the ron gates and almost p t ed her. In th s world, I could have t all.

  I jogged through the brambles, emerg ng from the trees nto the clear ng where the old house stood.

  Too mpat ent to go ns de and search for h m, I yelled, "Rupert," at the top of my lungs.

  Noth ng. The house rema ned s lent, broken w ndows gl nt ng l ke jagged teeth n the early morn ng sunsh ne.

  I stepped tentat vely onto the porch and tr ed the ron latch of the huge wooden door. It gave way eas ly and I pushed t open. I'd expected the ns de of the house to resemble t's exter or— spl ntered floorboards, mould and vy creep ng up the walls. To my surpr se, t was almost spotless. A pol shed mahogany sta r case led up to a f rst-floor land ng on my r ght, a balustrade runn ng ts length. The floorboards were bare but clean. A large red carpet covered the centre of the hallway, o wh ch were several doors. I heard footsteps and through a door on the le Rupert appeared, h s ha r as messy as ever.

  H s eyes l t up when he saw me. "Good grac ous," he sa d, flash ng a sm le. "I thought you'd be halfway to Bangor by now."

  "Yes, well. I couldn't a ord the tra n fare."

  H s sm le w dened. "Shame. Marvellous walk ng n Bangor. Oldest c ty n Wales, you know?"

  "Rupert," I sa d, grow ng sl ghtly exasperated. "I d dn't come to talk about Bangor."

  He pushed h s w re framed spectacles further up h s nose. "No, of course you d dn't."

  "I found your photo on the nternet. The one you ment oned."

  He nodded. "So, do you bel eve me?"

  I was s lent for a few moments. F nally, I sa d, "Yes. I bel eve you." H s shoulders sagged n rel ef. "Clement ne, you have no dea how rel eved I am to hear you say that. Thanks be to God for th s nternet malarkey. What s an nternet by the way?"

  "That's not mportant r ght now." "Of course, t sn't. Cr key, where are my manners? May I take your coat? I'm afra d there's not much n th s part of the house. It seems whoever nher ted the place a er Uncle d ed pretty much str pped t bare. St ll, lucky for me, whoever they were, they certa nly d dn't know the house very well."

  I sl pped out of my coat and passed t to h m, watch ng as he draped t over the end of the bann ster. "What makes you say that?" I asked.

  He gr nned. "I'll show you. I'm happy to say, the r loss s very much my ga n."

  He gestured towards the door he came through. "A er you, Clement ne." I gave h m a qu zz cal stare, and then walked through nto a large empty room w th mahogany panels on the walls. There were three large Georg an style w ndows on the le s de overlook ng the front lawn, w th another at the oppos te end to the door. L ke the hallway, the floor was neatly swept, the panelled walls bu ed to a m rror-l ke sh ne.

  "Th s was the games room once-upon-a-t me," Rupert sa d. "Though I don't remember Uncle enterta n ng very o en. It's very strange, you know? Though t's only been a couple of months s nce I last saw h m, n th s t me he's been dead for years."

  "Is that how long you've been here?" I asked. "A couple of months?"

  "F y-n ne days to be exact," he sa d str d ng past me to the end of the room. "I counted."

  I frowned. "What on earth have you been do ng w th yourself for all that t me?" He s ghed. "Naturally at f rst I was deeply n shock. I wondered f I'd had an ep sode and blacked out. I le through the front gate and walked towards what used to be the v llage." He paused, avert ng h s gaze. "I'm not proud to adm t I got very scared when I saw the automob les. Only then d d I beg n to grasp what had happened. I tr ed to approach a couple of people, but they must've thought me a lunat c. I overheard a lady tell her daughter that I was probably on drugs. A er that I grew concerned I m ght be locked up. I dec ded the safest opt on would be to return to the house. I had hopes that Uncle m ght be work ng on a way to get me home, or at the very least that he m ght be able to follow me n some capac ty. What good would t do f I wasn't around when he arr ved? So, I stayed put." He gazed around the room, a note of sadness creep ng nto h s vo ce. "I cleaned up as best I could. There were some old brooms and mops n the t ny outhouse around the back. The outdoors pump st ll works. Though Uncle wasn't the t d est, I d dn't want h m to see

  t n the state t was n."

  "But what have you been eat ng?" I asked, try ng and fa l ng to p cture a l fe w thout a weekly v s t to Tesco.

  He sm led and mot oned to the wall beh nd. "Follow me and I'll show you."

  I stared at the wall blankly.

  Rupert shook h s head. "You don't see t e ther, do you? It really s a stroke of gen us." He turned and crouched down onto the bare floorboards. Next, he pressed the bottom of one of the panels on the wall. There was a cl ck and two of the panelled squares opened l ke a t ny door.

  I gaped, amazed. "
A concealed door, but really clever. There are no h nges v s ble and you must h t the exact spot to open t. If you d dn't know t was there, you'd never f nd t."

  He ducked h s head and crawled through, turn ng on h s haunches to peer back at me. "Don't worry t sn't at all claustrophob c. It opens onto a sta rcase."

  I shrugged and ducked down, follow ng h m through the crawl space nto a gloomy passage. Once my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I

  saw a black metal sta rcase sp rall ng up nto the lo y ce l ng above.

  At the top, an open door em tted a dull halo of l ght.

  "It's fa rly steep," Rupert sa d as he began to ascend the sta rs. "Probably best to hang onto the ra ls." I followed closely at h s heels, wonder ng where on earth he was lead ng me. At the top of the sta rwell, he led me nto a room w th a slop ng roof, a t ny c rcular w ndow h gh up on one of the walls lett ng n a s ngle sha of sunl ght. I bl nked as I gazed around me. Though the room was small, t was home to a mult tude of objects. An ron bedstead stood aga nst one of the walls, bedclothes tra l ng on to the floor. Bes de t were several tower ng p les of books. An old-fash oned trunk was wedged nto the space at the bottom of the bed and ns de I could see var ous objects: A cr cket bat, a m rror, what appeared to be a folded tweed jacket. Next to that, on the wall oppos te the w ndow were p les and p les of cardboard boxes. Rupert casually opened one to show me the contents. Ins de were neatly stacked t ns. He l ed one out to show me the label.

  "Campbells Tomato Soup," I read.

  The penny took forever to drop. "Shortly a er I arr ved back from that d sastrous f rst tr p nto the v llage, I remembered th s room. When I was a boy, I used to have great fun h d ng up here, though back then t was never used for anyth ng except storage. I expected to f nd t as empty as the other rooms, but t wasn't. My th ngs were here." He gestured to the trunk at the bottom of the bed. "The same possess ons I'd brought back w th me from Eton that summer, along w th the bed clothes and the boxes."

  "Your uncle," I sa d. "He put them up here before he d ed. Know ng that the house would be empt ed, know ng that you would f nd them almost a hundred years nto the future. He prov ded you w th a means to surv ve."

  Rupert nodded. "The old man wasn't so batty a er all. But that set me to wonder ng. If he put these up here, he must've known I'd travelled nto the future, to a date long a er he'd passed away. A er I real sed that, I set about look ng for a message."

  "Yes," I sa d, nauseous w th exc tement, "l ke n Back to the Future when Marty wr tes that letter for the Doc tell ng h m the L byans are go ng to murder h m. He could have le nstruct ons for you, deta ls on how to get back. Back to the Future s a mov e," I expla ned, see ng how ba led he looked.

  H s brows kn tted together. "I've only ever seen a couple of those. Charl e Chapl n s h lar ous."

  I laughed. "He s st ll mega-famous. Though dead obv ously."

  Rupert sm led wryly. "Obv ously."

  "What d d you f nd?" I asked. "Well, that's the odd th ng. Desp te tear ng the whole room apart, I d dn't f nd anyth ng. I looked everywhere, searched every box, checked the pockets on every art cle of cloth ng. But I can't f nd anyth ng that resembles any sort of message."

  He s ghed and slumped onto the bed.

  "What about the th ng that bought you here, the monstrance th ngy? Have you looked for that?" He nodded. "Endlessly. Short of r pp ng the house down and d gg ng up the foundat ons, I've checked everywhere. That's what I can't f gure out. Why he'd leave me enough food to surv ve for a year and my personal art cles but no means of gett ng myself out of th s mess. Unless..." He tra led nto noth ng.

  "Unless what?"

  "There s no way to go back. Perhaps Uncle merely le me the means to surv ve unt l I accl mat se to my new s tuat on." "No," I sa d abruptly. "There must be a way. You ment oned that he wasn't as luc d as you remembered. It's poss ble that he d d all th s and e ther forgot to leave you a message or wrote one and forgot to br ng t up here."

  Rupert d d not appear conv nced. "Poss bly."

  We were s lent for a few seconds, contemplat ng h s uncle's lack of commun cat on.

  "Seems utterly hopeless, doesn't t?" Rupert sa d, fl ck ng a p ece of dust from h s trousers.

  I qu rked a sm le. "It would be utterly hopeless f we l ved n the n neteen twent es."

  He frowned. "But?"

  I sank onto the bed bes de h m, the old-fash oned bedspr ngs sagg ng beneath my we ght. "But we have the nternet."

  "Wh ch s?"

  I paused for a moment. "It's probably best that I show you. How do you l ke Ital an food?"

  Chapter Seven

  *** I asked Rupert to dress smartly and meet us outs de Bella Ital a n town at s x th rty. Luck ly he knew where t was. It seemed h s fear of cars hadn't lasted very long.

  Around s x o'clock, we p led nto Grandma's t ny Peugeot and headed o nto town, park ng as we always d d n the car park at the back of Wa trose. I wa ted pat ently bes de Dad as Grandma went to put the co ns n the Pay and D splay mach ne, observ ng h m carefully for any s gn that yesterday's clear out had made a d erence.

  Other than the exchange of the sweat pants for jeans, there wasn't much change. He st ll looked pale and rundown, the l ght snu ed out of h s hazel eyes.

  As we rounded the corner of the H gh Street, a knot formed n my stomach. What f Rupert had m sunderstood my cloth ng adv ce and showed up n a top hat and ta ls? He probably had all k nds of outland sh outf ts lurk ng n that old trunk of h s. I should have been more spec f c.

  I needn't have worr ed however. He'd dressed casually n a blue sweater and be ge trousers, h s ha r combed and parted to the s de l ke n h s old photo, a generous dollop of wax hold ng t n place.

  He beamed when he saw us and I felt a pang of p ty. He had been utterly alone for so long.

  "Good even ng," he sa d, ncl n ng h s head f rst toward Grandma and then at Dad. For an alarm ng second, I thought he m ght bow

  Dad gave h m a br ef once over, a dent form ng between h s brows. "N ce to meet you. Rupert, sn't t?"

  "That s correct, S r," he sa d, hold ng out h s hand. "Rupert Holt." Dad shook t, and then Rupert turned h s full attent on to Grandma. "Th s must be Clement ne's grandmother," he sa d. "It's absolutely r pp ng to make your acqua ntance, Mrs Hardy."

  I st fled a g ggle. Dad's l ps tw tched. Grandma d dn't seem perturbed however. She beamed grac ously as they shook hands.

  "Call me Doreen," she sa d. "Mrs Hardy sounds so anc ent."

  The rony. Rupert had about f y years on her.

  Rupert sm led broadly. "If you ns st."

  "Well," remarked Dad, "shall we go n before they g ve all the tables away?" Ins de, Rupert's eyes darted around the sh ny restaurant, l nger ng on the br ghtly l t opt cs beh nd the bar. "My word," I heard h m mutter.

  The hostess accosted us almost mmed ately, wav ng overs zed menus. "Table for four?" Dad nodded and she led us to the back where she seated us at a leather l ned booth w th a fake cactus on the table. "I'll g ve you a few moments to choose," she sa d, leav ng us alone.

  "So, Rupert," Dad sa d, toss ng h s menu onto the table. "Clem tells us you're l v ng n the old house on the cl ." "Yes," Rupert sa d smoothly, repeat ng the l nes we'd rehearsed earl er. "Father s a property developer w th a penchant for hopeless cases n p cturesque coastal locat ons."

  "Where s he th s even ng?"

  I gaped at Dad. He never usually showed th s level of nterest n anyth ng.

  "He's stuck n London th s weekend," he l ed. "He works for a f nance company."

  So far, so good.

  "And your mother?"

  Rupert lowered h s eyes. "I'm sorry to say my mother passed away some years ago from Typho d fever."

  Grandma frowned. "That's very rare these days."

  Drat. We hadn't d scussed that part.

  "She was abroad when t struck," Rupert expla ned qu ckly. A deathly s lence ensued as t occurred to everyone at the table that Rupert and I were both motherless. Though techn cally of course Rupert's mother was st ll al ve
. Just not n th s t me zone.

  "I'm very sorry to hear that," Grandma sa d. Dad rema ned s lent, star ng between me and Rupert n bew lderment. He probably wondered f Rupert's deceased mother was the reason I'd struck up the fr endsh p n the f rst place.

  The wa tress c rcled back to our table. "Ready?"

  "I'll have the lasagne," Dad sa d, hand ng her back h s menu, "w th a glass of house red and a m neral water." Grandma ordered the Spaghett Carbonara and I went for my usual pepperon p zza. When t came to Rupert's turn however, he appeared utterly perplexed. "Awfully sorry about th s," he sa d, turn ng sl ghtly p nk n the face. "I'm afra d my Ital an s rather bas c. Perhaps I'll try what Clement ne s hav ng. P zza was t?"

  "Pepperon ?" the wa tress asked.

  Rupert sm led. "Why not?"

  "And to dr nk?"

  "Just water please."

  The wa tress collected the rest of our menus and le us n s lence.

  A er a t me, Grandma sa d, "Have you ever tr ed Ital an food before, Rupert."

  "I grew up abroad," he sa d. "In the Arab states. I only came to England for my school ng."

  Grandma sm led. "Ah. I can't mag ne them hav ng a Bella Ital a over there."

  "No, noth ng of the sort," Rupert sa d.

  "Where d d you go to school?" Dad asked.

  "Eton College n W ndsor." Rupert glanced across at me. "But my father dec ded t m ght make a n ce change to move me down here."

  "Port Haven H gh must seem pretty nterest ng a er Eton," Dad sa d.

  Rupert nodded, push ng h s glasses further up h s nose. "Well, yes, I suppose t s. For starters there's g rls."

  Dad laughed. It was the f rst t me he'd made the sound n what felt l ke forever. "Yes, I mag ne that came as qu te a shock."

  "No cr cket team e ther, nor row ng. But the r Corn sh past es are excellent."

  Dad laughed aga n. "I'll have to take your word for t." The conversat on sw tched to a d scuss on about school d nners, Grandma and Dad swapp ng horror stor es from the r ch ldhoods. Rupert sm led at me, h s blue eyes br ght beh nd h s w re framed spectacles. He looked as f he was thoroughly enjoy ng h mself.