Time Traveler to Next Door Page 6

  A lady w th sh ny brown ha r stared at us across the mahogany recept on desk. "Can I help you?" she asked, her eyes fl tt ng between us n d sapproval. Clearly, she'd already dec ded we were about to waste her t me.

  Rupert and I had dec ded beforehand that he would do most of the talk ng. As de from the fact he was sl ghtly older, he was by far the better spoken of the both of us. Plus, adults seemed to l ke h m.

  At least, Dad and Grandma d d. "Good a ernoon," Rupert sa d, stepp ng forward and o er ng h s hand. The woman awkwardly shook t. "I'm Rupert Holt and th s s my cous n, Clement ne Hardy. We're study ng for our h story GSCE at the local comprehens ve n Port Haven and tak ng part n an

  mportant project on genealogy.

  I sm led, try ng to look as stud ous as poss ble. "As part of our coursework, we've been asked to research an mportant member of our fam l es," Rupert went on. "Our chosen

  ancestor s Mr Perc val Holt and we're try ng to f nd out as much

  about h m as poss ble. Records nd cate that he l ved n th s

  establ shment n the 1950's, perhaps even longer, and I'd l ke to f nd

  out more about h s t me here at R verv ew."

  The woman frowned, l ng the telephone rece ver. "Take a seat."

  "Of course," Rupert sa d, beam ng.

  We sat down at the c rcular seat ng area. "I hope she's not d all ng secur ty," I muttered. "H Sandra, sorry to bother you," the woman sa d nto the phone. "I've got some students here w th a few quest ons about the r ancestor Perc val Holt. They're study ng h m for the r h story GCSE." There was a pause. "Oh, shall I ask them to come back?" Another pause. "Okay, thanks."

  We rose from our seats expectantly.

  "The manager Sandra Rose w ll be w th you shortly."

  "Great," we sa d n un son, s nk ng back nto the cha rs. Ne ther of us spoke wh lst we wa ted for Sandra Rose. Rupert drummed f ngers on h s knees and I p cked at a loose thread n the cha r's padd ng.

  A er a few m nutes, a door to the le of the desk opened and a short, m ddle-aged woman w th shoulder length blonde ha r appeared. She was hold ng a lever-arch f le under one arm and hope bubbled up ns de me. Perhaps t conta ned everyth ng we needed to know to about gett ng Rupert home to the twent es.

  "Hello, I'm the manager here, Sandra Rose."

  She held out her hand and Rupert sprung out of h s seat to shake t. L ke me he stared at the r ng b nder w th nterest.

  "Wonderful to make your acqua ntance, Ms. Rose," he sa d. "Th s s my dear fr end and cous n, Clement ne Hardy."

  I cop ed Rupert and stood up to shake her hand. Sandra sank nto a cha r, the f le on her lap and mot oned for us to st back down. "Now, what can I do for you today? I'm afra d I don't have long. I'm on my way out to v s t a potent al cl ent n Lavant."

  The hope that the f le m ght be of mportance d ed a sudden and devastat ng death.

  "We're research ng an ancestor or ours, Perc val Holt, and our f nd ngs suggest that he stayed here dur ng the f es," Rupert sa d.

  Sandra Rose nodded. "I see, and how d d you f nd that out?"

  "The 1951 census," I cut n. "He's l sted as a pat ent here. Prev ously he was l v ng at Port Haven House n Port Haven."

  "And what year d d he d e?" Rupert's eyes w dened. H s Adam's apple bobbed n the th n column of h s neck. "We're not sure. He wasn't l sted on the 1961 census or any therea er."

  The truth was, on Saturday n ght when we were search ng the records, I couldn't br ng myself to cl ck on the l nk to the b rths, deaths and marr ages w th Rupert s tt ng r ght bes de me. Perhaps that had been a m stake.

  "I see," Sandra sa d aga n. "Well, let me tell you a b t about R verv ew and ts h story and that m ght be of some help. As you can see, these days R verv ew s a home for the elderly. The serv ces here are pa d for by a pat ent's fam ly or from the r own estate or f the r f nanc al means run dry, the local author ty. Back n the 1950's, R verv ew was more of a convalescent home. The pat ents back then would have had more compl cated needs. Can I ask f your ancestor was a wealthy man?"

  Rupert cleared h s throat. "I bel eve he was reasonably comfortable, yes." Sandra sm led, look ng pleased w th herself. "In those days, those who could a ord t would usually pay for nurs ng n the r own homes. Therefore, f your ancestor was wealthy but ended up at R verv ew, there's a h gh chance there were other factors at play."

  "Such as?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "Dement a, Alzhe mer's. Most l kely a mental llness where the pat ent s cons dered a danger to h s or herself."

  "But what about records? Can we check Perc val Holt's f le to f nd out exactly why he was here?" "I'm afra d those records no longer ex st. Even now, we only need to keep a pat ent's records for three years a er they've d ed. I th nk your best bet would be to obta n a copy of the death cert f cate wh ch would expla n the cause of death."

  "There must be someth ng here," I sa d. "What about when he d ed? H s possess ons and property? They can't have just been thrown away."

  "If at the t me of h s death, there were no l v ng relat ves, then h s estate would have passed to the crown." "And f he d d have a l v ng relat ve?" Rupert asked. It was the f rst t me he'd spoken for a few m nutes and I not ced he'd turned extremely pale.

  "If he d ed w th a w ll n place, then the executor of the w ll or a sol c tor would have handled h s a a rs and estate accord ngly." I thought of Port Haven House; desolate and empty for all those years, no one ever qu te sure who owned t. What had happened to Rupert's father that he d dn't cla m the estate for h mself? A ch ll stole over me, my sk n pr ckl ng w th a sudden real sat on. I glanced across at Rupert and knew beyond a shadow of doubt he was th nk ng the exact same th ng. If Perc val Holt d ed alone, d d that mean that Rupert never made t back to h s own t me?

  "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help," Sandra Rose sa d, br ng ng us back to real ty.

  I gave her a shaky sm le. "Thank you for your t me." We stood up, Rupert's eyes fl tt ng around the room, h s brows kn tted together. It was the f rst t me I'd ever known h m to m ss an opportun ty to be pol te. He nodded to Sandra, who led us to the door.

  "Good luck w th your exams," she sa d br ghtly. "To ex t just h t the green button on the wall."

  "Thanks," I sa d. "Bye."

  Rupert rema ned s lent as we closed the door beh nd us and trekked across the gravel to the gate.

  Back outs de on the leaf strewn street, I turned to face h m. "Th s s just a bl p. We'll have a reth nk and start aga n." He shook h s head, h s usually br ght blue eyes devo d of emot on. Then he surpr sed me by grabb ng my hand and squeez ng t n h s. A t ngly warmth shot up my arm.

  "Prom se me you won't check for a death cert f cate," he sa d, levell ng h s gaze at me.

  I frowned. "But why? She's r ght, t would g ve us the date and cause of your uncle's death. If t was Alzhe mer's, t would tell us—"

  "I don't mean my uncle's," he cut n. "Prom se me you won't check for m ne."

  Chapter Nne

  A er I made the false prom se, we journeyed back to Port Haven n s lence. I couldn't bel eve t hadn't occurred to me before—the most obv ous way of know ng f there's a way home for Rupert—a death cert f cate. If he makes t back to h s normal l fe n the twent es, there'll be a record of h s death, and f he doesn't, f he s stuck here forever, then he would have d sappeared from the face of the earth

  n 1925 and le no further mark on the world. I could be so bl nd somet mes. Wh le we were busy check ng census records for Perc val Holt, t hadn't once dawned on me to check for the boy s tt ng by my s de.

  "W ll you come for d nner?" I asked, as we cl mbed o the bus n Port Haven and began the short walk towards home.

  "Would your father m nd dreadfully?"

  I snorted n der s on. "I make the d nner these days so the only person who m ght m nd s me and I don't."

  "Then I'll come."

  "Good."

  We sm led at each other and the mood l ed.

  "Have you ever tr ed f sh f ngers and oven baked sm ley faces?"

  He laughed. "Good
Lord, no. What's that? Some sort of cann bal sm by the sounds of th ngs."

  I placed a hand on h s shoulder. "It's t me I ntroduced you to the twenty-f rst century world of conven ence food." But when I unlocked the front door, we were greeted by the aroma of home cook ng. Dad emerged nto the hallway from the k tchen, a tea towel slung over h s shoulder. For the f rst t me n ages, he greeted me w th a sm le.

  "Hey, k ds, how was school?"

  I hoped he wasn't drunk. Not that he'd touched a drop of alcohol s nce Mum d ed but st ll. "It was good, thanks." I crossed the hallway and k ssed h m gently on the cheek. He smelled of shower gel and sp ces and noth ng more thank goodness. A er everyth ng we'd been through, I'm not sure I could have handled watch ng h m turn nto an alcohol c as well.

  "Good to see you aga n, Rupert," he sa d, clasp ng the latter's hand enthus ast cally. "You'll stay for d nner, won't you? I'm mak ng lamb stew and dumpl ngs."

  "Sounds excellent," Rupert sa d. "I'd be del ghted to jo n you." "Fabulous. Oh, by the way, Clem, I took your laptop to that place n town earl er. The guy sa d that t had two hundred and seventeen v ruses. It's all f xed. I le t upsta rs on your bed. Now maybe you can leave my Mac Book alone."

  "Great. Actually, Rupert and I are st ll work ng on our h story project, so we m ght get some research n before d nner. That's okay sn't t, Dad? To take Rupert up to my room?"

  Rupert looked str cken as Dad frowned. "Why wouldn't t be?"

  He retreated nto the k tchen as I grabbed Rupert's sleeve and dragged h m towards the sta rs. If he had been any other boy, I m ght have been embarrassed to show h m my room. I hadn't, l ke so many g rls my age, chucked away the remnants of ch ldhood. My room was st ll pa nted p nk, my furn ture d stressed wh te. A w cker cha r n the corner housed several large stu ed an mals. I grabbed the laptop from the bed and sank onto the duvet, patt ng the space bes de me.

  Desp te obta n ng Dad's perm ss on, Rupert appeared apprehens ve, h s l ps pressed together n a gr mace. "It's a very pretty room," he sa d, s tt ng down next to me. "Very er..."

  I rolled my eyes. "Rupert, t's a g rl's bedroom, you don't have to have an op n on about t."

  He flashed a nervous gr n. "R ght. Po nt taken. What are we search ng for th s t me?"

  I opened the laptop. "We can't g ve up on your uncle. We have to keep look ng." He nodded. "I agree. Wh ch s why I made you prom se not to look me up. As de from the obv ous not know ng too much about one's own future, I need to keep the hope al ve somehow."

  "Prec sely."

  He frowned. "I had another thought wh lst we were sat n that care home."

  "A good one?" "In some ways, yes. I suddenly got to th nk ng about the house and the h dden room w th my th ngs n and I thought what f my uncle wasn't the one who le them there? What f Ile them there for myself?"

  My sk n pr ckled. "I never thought of that. If you d d then you def n tely go back." "Exactly. I make t back to the r ght t me and know ng that the future me w ll one day show up n 2018, I leave food and belong ngs n a place I know I'll f nd them. Of course, that st ll doesn't expla n why the future me d dn't leave the monstrance s tt ng on the bed w th full nstruct ons attached. That b t doesn't make sense."

  I rubbed at my temples, try ng to get my head around the concept. "Unless there's a reason why you delayed the return."

  He nodded. "Poss bly. Though f I'm the orchestrator of my own return then what happened to Uncle Frank a er I le ?"

  "What d d you just call h m?" I asked, snapp ng my head n h s d rect on.

  "Uncle Frank. That's what everyone called h m. Frank Holt. He detested the name Perc val w th a pass on."

  My jaw dropped. "When you say everyone, who do you mean exactly?"

  He stared at me, ba led. "Everyone. Fr ends, fam ly, colleagues."

  W thout a word, I pulled up an nternet w ndow, and typedFrank HoltScentstnto the search eng ne. A dozen or so l nks popped up. I gnored them and cl cked on the mage button. A black and wh te photograph of a bald ng gentleman n a su t, wear ng w re framed spectacles not unl ke Rupert's,

  appeared on the screen. Beneath the photo, were the words, Frank Holt Sc ent st, 1871- 1953.

  I turned the screen around. "Is th s h m?"

  Rupert froze. "Yes."

  I fought the urge to bounce up and down w th exc tement. "We found h m. Look, he has a page on W k ped a. It says he conducted mportant research nto the l nks between sc ence and alchemy. What's alchemy?" "Alchemy s the anc ent study of transmut ng base metals nto gold. L ke I told you at the beach that a ernoon, my uncle exper mented w th var ous elements; explor ng the overlap between the ph losoph es of chem stry, phys cs and alchemy. He harboured a deep fasc nat on for t me travel. I'm sorry to say, Clement ne that I spent most of my t me back then th nk ng about cr cket and the g rl who served the tea at the grounds on Saturday. He could have told me everyth ng I need to know, and I wouldn't have l stened. Obv ously, I regret that enormously now."

  We were s lent for a few seconds.

  "Who was the g rl at the cr cket grounds?" I asked. He chuckled. "I bel eve her name was Betty. She was a lot older than me and marr ed—just n case you're labour ng under the m sapprehens on that my try ng to get back so desperately has anyth ng to do w th her."

  I shook my head. "I'm not."

  He gestured to the laptop. "So, what does t say about h m?" I cl cked onto the W k ped a page and passed the screen to Rupert to read. It was h s uncle a er all and I d dn't th nk I could br ng myself to ment on h s death.

  Rupert nhaled sharply. "1953. That's when he d ed."

  We sat n s lence wh le he read, the only no se the t ck of my alarm clock and the clang of saucepans dr ng up from downsta rs. Several m nutes passed before he set the laptop back down on the bed. "It seems that h s health deter orated rap dly dur ng the th rt es," he sa d n a wobbly vo ce. "Though he d d publ sh a paper

  n 1932 on the parallels between quantum phys cs and alchemy."

  "Do you th nk that m ght have someth ng to do w th the monstrance?"

  "Poss bly. H s academ c papers are stored at Hawchester Un vers ty L brary."

  "Bugger. We were only around the corner from there today. But we could go tomorrow?"

  He sm led. "I'll wa t further along the street th s t me."

  "Who sa d anyth ng about meet ng a er school. I'll d tch, and we'll catch the bus f rst th ng n the morn ng."

  "D tch?"

  "Bunk o , not bother go ng, skve." "Absolutely not, Clement ne. I w ll not perm t you to jeopard se your educat on for the sake of what could qu te poss bly turn out to be yet another w ld goose chase."

  I sm rked and p cked up the laptop, logg ng nto Dad's Gma l account where I opened a new message to the school adm n ema l address. Then I typed that Clement ne Hardy would not be attend ng school tomorrow because of a hosp tal appo ntment. "Done," I sa d, fl pp ng the l d shut. "I'll meet you at the end of Shore Road at n ne."

  Later, a er d nner, I walked Rupert home across the f elds towards the sea. A sense of calm had settled w th n me. Dad had stayed cheerful throughout d nner, mak ng conversat on w th Rupert and l sten ng to me talk about school. I'd known he would have to turn a corner n h s m sery eventually, but lately t had seemed mposs ble.

  Who knew rel ef could feel so much l ke happ ness? When we reached the gate between the f elds and the sea we stopped, star ng out at the waves as they lapped onto the beach. There was no w nd ton ght. The sea was flat, gl nt ng l ke ron beneath the dy ng rays of the sun. The sky had turned to shades of orange and p nk—Mum's favour te type of sunset.

  What do you th nk w ll happen to me f I can't go back," Rupert asked.

  I paused, not want ng to vo ce the truth, that I d dn't have a clue how a t me traveller could l ve n a t me where he d dn't belong. "It would work out," I sa d eventually. "We could get you some fake ID and you could f n sh your educat on. Then you when you're older you can get a job and renovate Port Haven House. I'll v s t on weekends."

  He sm led. "Perhaps we could play backgammon."


  "You're on. Though you'll have to teach me f rst."

  We fell s lent aga n. A flock of starl ngs flew overhead, and I glanced up, watch ng as they tw sted and d pped n perfect format on. "I d dn't mean n the pract cal sense though," Rupert sa d, h s gaze f xed on the b rds as d sappeared nto the hor zon. "I know I can surv ve. I mean what w ll happen to me up here?" He tapped the s de of h s head. "No fr ends or fam ly. I'm so very lonely, Clement ne, and t's not because you haven't proved an excellent fr end to me. It's for the s mple fact that I don't belong here. It's the worst poss ble k nd of homes ckness. Because my home no longer ex sts."

  I placed an awkward hand on h s shoulder. In sp te of los ng Mum, t turned out I was no better at comfort ng people than anyone else. "That won't happen. Everyth ng w ll work out."

  He closed h s eyes br efly. "Bel ev ng I have a chance s the only th ng I have at the moment. If I found out that I couldn't go back, well..." He tra led om nously nto s lence.

  "You wouldn't do anyth ng stup d would you?" "Oh crumbs no. Noth ng l ke that." He paused, h s eyes a br ght shade of blue n the fad ng dayl ght. "I feel nsens t ve say ng th s, what w th your mother hav ng passed."

  "Say ng what?"

  "It's occurred to me lately that's all. There are worse th ngs than death." I thought of Dad, putt ng on a brave face back at the house, wak ng up every day and know ng he'll never see the person he loved the most ever aga n. I nodded. "L ke be ng le beh nd."

  He s ghed. "Yes, l ke be ng le beh nd."

  I reached for h s hand n the gloom, and squeezed h s f ngers, a fresh wave of determ nat on sweep ng through me. We would f nd that monstrance, and send Rupert home to the twent es, and then I would go back to that day the car h t Mum and stop her from ever stepp ng out nto the road.

  I would have my mother back and Rupert would go home to h s old l fe, and ne ther of us would ever have to worry about be ng alone aga n.