Time Traveler to Next Door Read online

  Chapter Ten

  Dad was st ll n bed when I le home the next morn ng, so there were no awkward quest ons as to why I'd dressed n jeans and Converse nstead of my usual school un form.

  Outs de, Rupert was wa t ng on the corner n what appeared to be a school blazer, h s shoulders hunched aga nst the ch lly morn ng a r. I frowned nstead of sm led when I caught up to h m, gnor ng h s pol te greet ng.

  "Rupert, I know you probably th nk we dress l ke tramps n the twenty-f rst century, but I really th nk you'd be warmer f you nvested n one of these bad boys." I plucked at the mater al of my faded Jack W lls hood e.

  He m rrored my frown. "What's the hood for? A su t of armour?"

  I rolled my eyes and we chuckled.

  "I do however, rather fancy a pa r of those worker's trousers."

  "Worker's trousers?" I asked, as we crossed the road to the bus stop. "Yes, l ke the ones you're wear ng. Though not qu te so t ght obv ously. It doesn't do for a man to wear h s trousers too t ght." H s eyes w dened, and he flushed a v olent shade of cr mson. "My apolog es," he stuttered. "I somet mes forget that I'm n the company of a lady."

  "Oh, thanks a lot."

  He gr nned sheep shly. "You know what I mean." A few m nutes later, n a cloud of exhaust fumes, the bus pulled up at the s de of the road. Thankfully t was too early to encounter anyone I went to school w th. Nonetheless, we took seats

  downsta rs at the back, between an elderly man clutch ng a tartan shopper and a woman n a trouser su t.

  Not want ng to draw attent on to ourselves, we barely spoke for the whole journey nto Hawchester. A couple of t mes, I glanced across at Rupert. The melancholy of yesterday had melted from h s features, h s blue eyes sharp and focused beh nd h s glasses. He tapped a foot mpat ently on the floor each t me the bus stopped. I could tell he was as exc ted by what we m ght f nd at the l brary as I was.

  There were less people m ll ng around the c ty centre than yesterday. A scent of roasted chestnuts laced the cr sp morn ng a r. The un vers ty l brary was s tuated n the old part of town, next to the r ver. The campus tself had moved some t me ago and was now s tuated further North near the hosp tal.

  We took our t me p ck ng our way through the cobbled streets, Rupert humm ng a tune under h s breath. Today, nstead of cont nu ng forward past the market cross we turned le onto East Street, past the sta ned-glass w ndows of the grand cathedral unt l the t ny store fronts th nned out and we reached a w de expanse of green lawn that had somehow surv ved the summer drought.

  The l brary bu ld ng wasn't unl ke the cathedral we just passed. W th ts goth c arched w ndows and a parapet runn ng the length of the

  roof, t could have fallen stra ght out of med eval England.

  Ant c pat on sw rled n my gut. Surely th s would be the place to

  reveal Rupert's Uncle's secrets.

  Rupert stopped humm ng as we turned onto the path to the entrance. Already there were several academ cs roam ng around, books hugged t ghtly to the r chests. The webs te sa d that the l brary opened to the publ c at n ne o'clock, but the ma n doors were already open.

  W th a qu ck glance at Rupert, I jogged up the steps and nto the gloom of the hallway. Rupert caught up and led the way,

  stra ghten ng h s blazer as he approached the lady beh nd the mahogany desk.

  Here we go aga n, I thought to myself. "Good morn ng," he sa d, sm l ng. "I'm Rupert Holt, a Great Nephew of the sc ent st, Frank Holt, who I bel eve publ shed some papers w th the un vers ty on the parallels between quantum phys cs and alchemy n the year 1932. As a keen sc ent st myself, I'm work ng on a school project for my coursework and I was rather hop ng to ga n access to h s academ c papers."

  He paused, and I held my breath, braced for a s m lar k nd of d sm ssal to yesterday at the care home. The woman sm led at us over her half-moon spectacles and reached nto a tray bes de her computer. "Here," she sa d, hand ng Rupert a

  form. "F ll th s n w th the name, year and t tle and I'll have t

  retr eved from storage. It m ght take half an hour or so. You can

  come back f you l ke?"

  "Half an hour s f ne," I blurted out. Rupert, who appeared as shocked as I was that we d dn't have a f ght on our hands, nodded frant cally. "Half an hour s sp ng. No bother at all."

  "Good. If you requ re photocop es, t's a penny per page. You can take t to the reprograph cs room on the f rst floor. The read ng rooms are through the doors to your le . You're welcome to take a seat wh le you wa t. Or f you prefer, we have a small cafe up on the second floor."

  Rupert stared at her as f she was the mess ah. "Thank you."

  Unable to bel eve our luck, I steered Rupert to the seat ng area at the front of the lobby.

  "What a thoroughly pleasant place th s s," he sa d. "Rem nds me of Eton."

  I chuckled. "Let's not get carr ed away unt l we have those papers n our hands." But I was wrong to be cyn cal. Roughly twenty m nutes later, a young man n ch nos and sh rt appeared brand sh ng an ag ng man la folder. The lady on the desk d rected h m to us and he walked across the sh ny t led floor toward us.

  "The papers are ready. Due to the r age we ask that you wear a pa r of these wh le hand ng the pages." He produced a pa r of M ckey Mouse style wh te cotton gloves and passed them to Rupert.

  "Of course," Rupert sa d.

  He sm led. "Return the papers to the desk when you're done."

  I nodded as Rupert took the f le, h s eyes w de beh nd h s glasses. "Thank you," he sa d to the young man rather breathlessly.

  Once he'd walked away, we hurr ed through the open double doors nto the read ng room. "Wow," I murmured. The room was unl ke any other l brary I'd ever seen. A h gh ce l ng arched above a flagstone floor, upon wh ch were rows of bu ed cherry wood tables and oblong green lamps. The room was almost empty. A few sol tary students occup ed a couple of the desks, the r heads bur ed n large volumes. We took seats n the farthest corner next to an old portra t. The only w ndows were h gh up on the walls. I assumed to keep the sunl ght from fad ng the books.

  Rupert pulled on the wh te gloves to open the man la f le. He removed a p le of pages bound w th brown leather str ng and nhaled deeply.

  "Clement ne," he wh spered, "I've never cons dered myself to be a rel g ous man, but now m ght be the t me for prayer."

  "Amen," I wh spered back. We sm led, and for the f rst t me the dea of h m leav ng le me strangely hollow. If th s was t and we found the answers we were search ng for, soon I would never see h m aga n.

  I shoved the emot on as de as he tugged on the leather shoestr ng and opened the f rst page. Though I was nd scr m nately cur ous, I d dn't read over h s shoulder. Th s was Rupert's uncle's l fe's work and I d dn't want to appear nosy.

  He turned the second page over, the ag ng paper crackl ng l ke l t t nder n the s lence of the room. "Just the ntroduct on," he murmured.

  "Does t ment on anyth ng about t me travel?" "Not yet, and to be honest I'm thoroughly prepared to have to read between the l nes. The whole paper w ll be theoret cal rather than pract cal."

  "Of course. But..." I tra led nto noth ng as an dea took hold.

  "But what?" "Well, f l ke we sa d, e ther you or your uncle put your belong ngs n your room ready to f nd, then surely by the t me th s was publ shed— and he must've st ll been pretty luc d at th s t me to publ sh an academ c paper—he would've known that you'd le and been able to leave a clue."

  "So, what are you say ng?"

  "I'm say ng, wh chever way you look at t, th s paper w ll g ve us the answers."

  A vert cal l ne formed between h s brows as he stared at the f le. "D d the lady say we can copy the pages?"

  "Yes, a penny a page."

  He we ghed the papers n h s hand. "There's a good hundred pages here."

  "Then t'll only cost a pound."

  Rupert fl pped another paper over and then another and another. "I th nk you're r ght. Th s m ght take the whole day to study."

  I rolled my eyes. "It would probably take me a whole year."
br />   "I doubt t, Clement ne. You're the cleverest g rl I've ever had the good fortune to meet."

  I chuckled. "I won't take that as too much of a compl ment see ng as Betty at the cr cket grounds s probably the only g rl n your l fe." He gave me a wry sm le. "Nonsense. There's the g rl who works at the p cture house, Mother and father's ma ds at the r home n the m ddle east. Uncle s also very good fr ends w th the lady who owns the wool shop n the v llage. My world s pos t vely team ng w th women."

  "Whatever you say, Rupert. Maybe Adele s r ght. Perhaps you should go to the ball." H s sm le broadened. It appeared he hadn't p cked up on the C nderella joke. "If I'm st ll around then, I should be del ghted to accompany you."

  Snap. "Okay, but you know, don't expect too much. There'll be plast c cups and d ots try ng to dance the floss everywhere."

  He frowned. "The floss? I'm fam l ar w th the Charleston, but I haven't heard of that one."

  I burst nto laughter, gnor ng the glares of the students hunched over the r books. "I'm sure Adele would love to teach you."

  H s ears turned p nk. "I'd rather you teach me f t's all the same." a

  W thout really know ng why, I blushed fur ously. "If you l ke," I muttered. A woman coughed loudly. "Excuse me, f you're not read ng could you please go somewhere else? The rest of us are try ng to concentrate."

  Rupert jumped up from h s seat. "My s ncere apolog es. My fr end and I are leav ng now." "The lady sa d that the Reprograph cs Room s on the f rst floor," I wh spered as Rupert t ed the leather b nd ng around the papers and sl d t back nto the man la envelope.

  "Once aga n, I f nd myself n the shameful pos t on of hav ng to ask you for money," Rupert sa d. "But not for much longer."

  I wa ted unt l we'd le the qu et of the read ng room beh nd before ask ng, "Why's that?" He dug nto h s trouser pocket and produced an mpress ve s lver pocket watch dangl ng on a cha n. "A er we're done here, I plan to locate the nearest pawn broker."

  I grabbed the sw ng ng watch to exam ne t. I d dn't know f rst th ng about ant ques, but I could th s was no cheap r p o . Rupert tw sted the catch on the top and t fl pped open to reveal an vory face and carefully pa nted Roman numerals. In the l d R.H. was nscr bed onto the s lver.

  "A Chr stmas g from Mother and Father," he expla ned. "They're not prol f c w th presents but by jove when they do g ve you someth ng you know about t."

  I closed the l d. "You can't sell th s, Rupert."

  He frowned. "Would t not be worth anyth ng these days?" "Not at all. I'm sure t'd be worth hundreds, but t's too good to sell. Please don't worry about money. There are more mportant th ngs than hav ng me loan you a few measly qu d for the bus."

  He shrugged. "I just f nd t so deeply mort fy ng that's all."

  "Rupert, you're a t me traveller. There's noth ng at all mort fy ng about that. It's cool."

  "Cool?"

  "It means good." "I see. Well, perhaps I could sell someth ng less personal. I have an old tenn s racket back at the house. It's not just the bus fare, you know? I'm grow ng rather t red of people star ng at my cloth ng w th such unabashed aston shment."

  "Oh, I don't know," I sa d as we tra psed up the sta rcase to the f rst floor. "Maybe the twent es look w ll make a comeback." Up at reprograph cs, a modern room w th huge mach nes wh rr ng and flash ng n the background, we handed the man la f le to the woman on the desk.

  "Shall we take them back to yours a er th s?" I asked Rupert. "I can't go back to the house unt l at least 3 o'clock." He sm led. "Yes. We can d g nto the t nned food for lunch, and you can tell me f you th nk any of my belong ngs m ght be worth someth ng."

  I was about to tell h m aga n to forget about sell ng h s th ngs, when the woman nterrupted us. "We found a note n the f le," she sa d. "What d d you say your name was?"

  "I d dn't," Rupert sa d. "But t's Rupert Holt, Frank Holt's nephew. I mean great nephew."

  The woman produced a p ece of folded parchment, the paper yellow w th age. "I th nk th s must be yours." W th an unsteady hand, Rupert took t from her, h s eyes w de beh nd h s glasses. I leaned over to see h s name scrawled on the front n sp dery black letter ng. Rupert gulped, obl v ous to the susp c ous stare of the woman. She clearly wasn't sure f she should have g ven

  t to h m.

  "Your bookmark," I blurted out. "You were us ng t to keep your place when you were read ng downsta rs. Remember, Rupert?"

  Rupert nodded frant cally. "Yes. Awfully sorry. I must've le ns de by acc dent."

  The woman nodded. "The cop es w ll be ready soon. One pounds and twenty-n ne pence."

  Heart thudd ng beneath my r bs, I pa d the money. Rupert was star ng down at the note, deathly pale.

  As soon as the woman was out of earshot, I h ssed, "I knew t. He's le you a note."

  Rupert glanced up at me, dazed. "Yes," he sa d. "It appears he has."

  Chapter Eleven

  A er what felt l ke an etern ty, the woman returned to the desk w th our cop es.

  "Are you okay to drop the or g nals back downsta rs?" she asked Rupert.

  He nodded mutely as she handed h m the f le.

  I took the cop es and thanked her, then steered Rupert towards the sta rs before she had a chance to change her m nd about the note.

  "I seem to have lost the sensat on n my legs," Rupert sa d as we trooped downsta rs.

  He was star ng down at the letter as f he'd d scovered the holy gra l. In a way I suppose he had.

  At the ma n desk, we returned the f le before head ng back out the double doors.

  "Well, th s s t, Clem," Rupert sa d. "Shall I read t now?" I shot a glance over my shoulder, remember ng the woman n the reprograph cs room. She'd def n tely known that we hadn't le the note n the pages that morn ng.

  "No. Let's go back nto town, just n case." There were more people bustl ng around the c ty centre now, mostly commuters o to work. The market cross beckoned, empty and safe. I dragged Rupert ns de and shoved h m towards one of the cold stone benches that ran around ts per meter.

  "Ready?" I asked, s tt ng bes de h m.

  He flashed a weak sm le. "As I'll ever be."

  He unfolded the paper and stared at the sp dery black wr t ng ns de. "W ll you read t?" he asked, shov ng t under my nose.

  "No," I sa d, push ng h s hand away. "I can barely even read my Grandma's wr t ng let alone someone from a century ago."

  "Has wr t ng changed that much?"

  "Yes, old wr t ng s d erent. You'll have to read t. Stop delay ng the nev table." He closed h s eyes and took a deep breath. I thought for a moment he'd started to read n h s head, but then he spoke, and the no ses of the c ty sl pped away l ke ghosts:

  DearNephew, Ileavethsletter n1932 nthehopethatsomewhere ntmeyou mayhappenupon t.Though tdoesnotdotodwellonthepast,I blamemyselfwhollyforyoursuddendeparture.Ihadbecomeso lost nmystudesthatIddnotpausetothnkwhatmghthappen f curostycaughtyou n tssnare.Iamdeeplysorry.Whateverhas happened,youareutterlyatlbertytoblameme.

  Butyouwllnotbe nterested nregrets.Thoseareforanotherday.I havelttledoubtthatyouwllbemost nterested nthelocatonof themonstrance,thegoldostensorythatIfoolshlyabandoned nmy study.Iborrowedthe temfromtheCathedralandthereIhavesnce beenforcedtoreturn t.Buteven fyoudomanagetoacqure t agan, twllnotworkasyoumghtexpect.Ifyoureadmypaperyou wllseethattheanswerslenot nobjectsthemselvesbutwthnthe energy,thelfeforce,thatsurroundsthem.Onthenghtofthestorm, severalfactorsalgnedtomakewhathappenedpossble.The monstrance—anobjectIhadbeenexpermentngwthformonth— thepostonoftheplanetsandofcourse,you.Isuspectbenga practcalyoungperson,thatyouwouldloatheto magneyoumght beanythngotherthanordnary.Butasayoungman nthemost energetcphaseofhslfe,youwereabletotakealeapthat s

  mpossbleformostofus.Ifmycalculatonsarecorrect,youhave journeyedtoapont ntmeconnectedtothemonstrance—a sgnfcanteventthatcreatedaunqueenergy.Gold,slver,andother precousmetalsarevaluablebecausetheycaptureasprtualforce. Whether t s nthepastorfuture sofnoconsequence.Tme snota straghtlne.However,apathcutthroughtme seasertonavgate, andnowthatthepath sopen,Inurturethehopethatwthmy thessyoumghtfnd tpossbletofndyourwa
yhome.

  Untlthen,Ireman,

  YourlovngUncle.

  Rupert stopped read ng and fl pped the page over. "Is that t?"

  I took the letter from h m. "Looks l ke t."

  A heavy s lence pressed down upon us as Rupert balled h s hands nto f sts. I'd never seen h m look angry before.

  "No pract cal nformat on whatsoever, no ment on of my parents. What a dodder ng old tw t." I suspected that call ng someone a dodder ng old tw t was the worst nsult Rupert could th nk of because he turned a deep shade of

  cr mson.

  "I'm not sure why you're so cross, he's g ven us plenty of nformat on. And he's sa d that the thes s can help us, and we have a

  copy of t r ght here. I suppose he couldn't draw a d agram n case t

  fell nto the wrong hands."

  Rupert s ghed. "I suppose not." "Also, you're completely m ss ng the obv ous. I po nted through the early morn ng commuters to where the sp res of the cathedral rose up aga nst the skyl ne, grey and mpos ng. "He sa d the monstrance has been returned to the cathedral. He must mean Hawchester. We're w th n feet of t."

  "But he sa d t wouldn't work as we expect. So even f we do f nd t, t's not go ng to be a case of one touch catapult ng me back to

  n neteen twenty-s x, s t?"

  "We don't know that for sure."

  He took the letter from me. "See, t says here:severalfactorsalgned tomakewhathappenedpossble."

  "The power of three," I muttered.

  "What d d you say?" "The power of three. Sc -f books and telev s on shows are always go ng on about t. I th nk t's also the t tle of a Dr Who ep sode, but I won't confuse you w th that."

  "So, what do you suggest? We go to the cathedral and steal the monstrance?"

  "Not steal t. Not r ght away anyway. Just see f they have t."

  He arched a brow. "Let me guess, we're go ng to say we're work ng on a school project on rel g ous artefacts and the r mean ngs?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Do you have a better dea?"

  "No. I'm sorry. I'm be ng ncred bly cyn cal. It's just, I really would l ke to know how my parents are."