All we have, p.33
All We Have, page 33
As he did so, I noticed that there were small gaps in the dark skin of the machine. Looking at them, I could see something flashing. I looked more closely, and realized I was seeing the grass on the ground outside, flashing dark and light. It took me a moment or two to work out that the color of the grass was changing as clouds moved across the sky outside. Because we were travelling back through time at speed, the clouds were moving much faster than normal, causing the green of the grass to flash. Sometimes the green would disappear entirely, and I took this to be during periods of night, when the expanse of rough grass would have been in darkness. George, in the meantime, was busying himself with pouring tea, and passing around little cakes. “I do love to take a slow journey, now and then,” he sighed happily. “This way, I get to have inflight refreshments.”
“We can’t travel too fast this time,” Dan explained, having spotted my bemused look.” Because we’re only travelling a relatively short distance in time, and we run the risk of overshooting if we go too fast. A bit like when you’re driving a car to somewhere you haven’t been before, and you have to slow down to find the number of the house you want.”
“Yes, quite my dear boy,” George cut in. “That and the fact that we don’t want to run the risk of going back too far and plonking poor dear Miss Paige back into a time before she left.” He tutted tutted at the very thought. “That would cause a time paradox, that would.”
“What would happen?” I asked.
George sucked on his teeth and looked very serious. “Doesn’t bear thinking about, m’dear,” he finally replied darkly.
That didn’t sound good to me, but Dan didn’t look worried in the slightest. He was staring at the ground flashing dark and light below us, a smile playing about his lips. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he said softly. “Imagine, being able to go back to any place in time and start over. Amazing.” I suddenly wondered whether he was considering, after dropping me off, going back to the day we’d first met on the verandah of the schoolhouse with the idea that he would avoid meeting me altogether. I wouldn’t blame him if he was. But that wouldn’t stop Meg rewriting Tamara. It would just mean I’d never know anything about him, or Tamara, or their world. I couldn’t imagine not meeting Dan at the schoolhouse that day. Never having seen his smile, or heard his voice. I shook my head, dismissing the stray thoughts from my mind, but the sick feeling they had created in the pit of my stomach remained.
“Are you feeling alright,” Dan asked, his expression worried. “You’re awfully pale.”
“I’m fine, just a little dizzy is all,” I muttered, ducking my head so he couldn’t see my face as I took my seat, gratefully accepting the cup of tea George was offering me.
“Time travel has been known to have that effect on people,” George said soothingly. “But after a nice cup of tea and one of Mrs Hadlow’s little cakes, you’ll be right as rain again in no time.”
“I’m sure I shall,” I agreed meekly. All Dan’s attention was now on me, not the ground below us anymore, and I sipped my tea and ate my little cake under his watchful eye.
I’d barely had time to drain my teacup before we had reached our destination. Dan took charge of the hatch and the steps this time, while George took the cup from me and replaced it on the tea trolley. I noticed he unscrewed the two levers that controlled the time machine and put them in his pocket, before offering me his arm to hold onto while I descended the steps to the ground. I accepted it gratefully, as I realized I was feeling a little light-headed.
Everything looked just as it had when we’d entered the time machine, and that still felt like only a few minutes ago. I couldn’t really quite believe we had travelled back in time. As we waved goodbye to George and left him tightening bolts on the outside of the machine, presumably in preparation for his next journey across time and space, I couldn’t help believing that when we got back to the house I’d find Meg there with Bill and Helen still waiting for an explanation for my prolonged absence.
But first we had to get from Dan’s world back into mine, this time through the map room. Dan made sure the curtain was properly closed behind us so there was no chance of anyone finding their way through. The schoolhouse was eerily quiet as we shut the front door behind us.
Dan walked quietly beside me all the way to the house. The door was unlocked, so I pushed it open and went inside, stealing myself to meet Meg’s accusatory gaze all over again. But there was no one sitting waiting for me. The house was empty. I walked right around it, nervously checking in every room, and there was no doubt about it, Dan and I were entirely alone. The kitchen was sparkling clean, and I recalled that the day of our row, after Meg had stormed out, that I’d cleaned up the breakfast dishes and busied myself by cleaning the kitchen and dusting the lounge.
I also remembered what had happened next, so when there came a loud knocking at the door, I knew who it would be. I glanced at Dan, who frowned.
“That shouldn’t have just happened,” he said. “I told George to set the machine to return an hour after you disappeared with Bertha.”
“Well, he must have got it a bit wrong,” I replied, heading into the hall to open the door. When I did it wasn’t a pale and anxious Bertha who stood before me. It was Bill. I recognized him from before. Or should I say after. But I’d seen his face reproduced often enough on the back dust jackets of his books that I’d have known his face anyway. I stood staring at him, not quite sure what to say.
“Hullo,” he began, taking the decision out of my hands. “You must be Paige. I’m Bill.”
“I know who you are,” I said, then stopped, my head still full of the last time I’d seen him, with Meg. Their reaction to my appearance then was still fresh in my mind, so I found it difficult to think of anything else.
Luckily, Dan saved the day, stepping forward with his hand extended and his trademark grin firmly in place. “Hullo, I’m Dan, a friend of Meg and Paige. It’s good to meet you, Mr Mawson.” Bill took the proffered hand, saying “Please, call me Bill,” and as he grinned back I saw the striking resemblance between the two of them.
“I’m sorry, Bill, but Meg’s not here right now,” I began, finally managing to find my voice. “Would you like to come in and wait for her?”
“I’d love to, thank you.” Bill’s eyes smiled as much as his mouth, I noticed approvingly. “Do you have an idea when she might be back?”
“Not really,” I admitted, walking back into the kitchen with Dan and Bill trailing behind me. “We had a bit of a row, you see, and she went off.” What in the world had made me tell him that?
“That sounds like Meg,” Bill nodded. “She always had quite a temper.”
“Oh, no,” I sprang to Meg’s defense. “It was all my fault really. I was speaking out of turn, I should never have....” I trailed off, realizing I couldn’t tell this complete stranger that in fact he, or rather his stupid book, was the cause of our falling out.
But Bill didn’t seem to notice my discomfort. “The house looks great!” He said, glancing around. “Significantly tidier than when I’m in residence, I can tell you,” he added.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, not really sure how to respond to this.
“It’s me who should be thanking you,” Bill said, “for your insightful critique of my novel.” He smiled at me.
“Umm, yes. I mean, you’re welcome,” I managed to stammer.
“I’d love a coffee,” Dan said, in an obvious attempt to rescue me. “Shall I put the kettle on then?”
“Ooh, yes,” I said gratefully. “Would you like a drink?”
This last remark I directed at Bill, who nodded. “I could murder a hot coffee, thanks. I’ve been driving since early this morning, you could have stripped paint with the coffee at the coffee bar I stopped at on the way here.”
I noticed my hands were shaking slightly as I lifted cups down from the sideboard. Placing them on the table, I moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, taking a moment to hide my face in its cool interior, as I sucked in a couple of calming breaths. Meanwhile, Dan was filling the kettle and chatting away to Bill as if they were old mates.
“So, you know Meg from way back, is that right?”
“Oh yes, Meg and I have known each other more years than I care to think about,” Bill said. “But we haven’t managed to see all that much of each other, over the years.”
“Strange, really,” Dan said. Bill glanced at him sharply, and he continued hastily. “You both being authors I mean. You’d think your paths would have crossed more often, at literary conferences and symposiums, that sort of thing
“Well, true,” Bill said thoughtfully. “But somehow they never did.”
“If you were that out of touch, what made you think to invite her to look after this place?” The words were out of my mouth before I’d had a chance to think how nosy I sounded. But Bill didn’t seem to mind the question.
“Old Matt Harkness up at the garage in town suggested it,” he explained. I remembered Meg telling me Bill had worked at the garage Matt owned during the summer they had first met. “He’s always been a big fan of Meg’s, and he read on her fan blog that she was looking for somewhere to spend six months, a retreat away from it all. This place is perfect for that, and as I’d already accepted the University’s offer of a teaching job for six months,” he shrugged, “the timing couldn’t have worked out better.”
“So what brings you back here now?” Dan asked.
“Well,” Bill looked a little embarrassed. “To tell you the truth, I’d no intention of coming back here at all. The job with the university keeps me plenty busy enough. My contract has another few months to run yet, plus they are looking to renew it.”
“But?” Dan prompted.
Bill sighed heavily. “Well, after Meg sent me your feedback,” he nodded in my direction, “about Tamara, I decided to ask Meg if she would have a crack at a re-write for me.”
I nodded, willing him to hurry up and spill the beans before Meg came home.
“But then I got the strangest phone call from Matt, saying I should really come down her and talk to Meg, that she seemed not herself and that he was worried about her.” Bill looked worried himself now. “Has Meg been unwell lately?” He asked, looking at me.
“Not that I’ve noticed,” I replied. I was looking at Dan, and something in his expression told me he knew something about Matt’s call to Bill. I tried to catch his eye, but he was avoiding meeting my gaze.
“I wonder what Matt was thinking then?” Bill mused. He grimaced. “I feel a bit of a fool now, having rushed up here. Meg will think I’m checking up on her.”
“No, no,” I hurried to say, putting coffee grounds into the coffee plunger and pouring hot water on top. “Meg will be thrilled to see you.”
I was surprised to see Bill blush bright red. “You think so?” he said eagerly. “You don’t think she’ll be mad at me for barging in like this? She is supposed to be on retreat, after all. Peace and quiet for writing and all that.”
“Well, I’m here with her now, so how much of a retreat can it be?” I said wryly. “She’ll be surprised, I’m sure, but pleased as well.”
“We’ll soon find out,” Dan remarked. While Bill and I’d been talking he’d moved to the window, and now he pulled the curtain aside so we could all get a good look at Meg, who was just pulling up in the driveway.
Chapter twenty-five
Poor Bill. I thought he might fall over right then and there. His face went from a healthy pink to ashen in a matter of seconds. He glanced left and right, as if looking for a hiding place, before he caught me watching him. He laughed nervously. “Haven’t seen Meg in years,” he offered by way of explanation.
“But surely you saw her when you decided to offer her use of this place?” I said.
“No, no, I did all that through her agent,” he explained. “We speak on the phone now and then, but I haven’t been in the same room as Meg in more years than I care to remember.” He took a deep breath then, as if suddenly short of air.
“I see. So this will be quite a surprise for her,” I mused aloud, not really expecting a response. Bill had decided to perch on the edge of the couch, but now he was trying out different poses. In the end he settled on leaning back, arm outstretched along the back of the couch, doing his best to look relaxed, like a man at ease with himself and the world. He was failing miserably, in my estimation, but I smiled reassuringly at him, giving him the thumbs up signal as I heard Meg entering the front door.
“Paige? Are you home?” Meg entered the room, saw me, and rushed on. “Look I’m really sorry about....” suddenly she stopped mid-sentence, having noticed first Dan, who was still standing at the window, and then Bill who jumped up from his seat on the couch as soon as he saw her.
“Bill!” Meg breathed, her hand going to her throat. “Armmmm, Bill. Gosh. Well, lovely,” she managed to stammer. “I mean,” she swallowed, then sucked in a steadying breath. “H-how lovely to see you, when did you get here? Paige?” She looked at me then, her eyes narrowing as if she thought I had something to do with Bill’s arrival. I looked back at her innocently. For once, I had nothing to do with anything, much to my relief. On the other hand, I was sure Dan had a finger in this pie somewhere along the line, I just hadn’t managed to work out yet quite where or how.
“Coffee?” I offered.
“Coffee sounds good,” Meg agreed faintly. She looked like she needed to sit down, but I could tell from the way she was looking at Bill that she wasn’t ready to share a couch with him just yet. Grabbing a chair from the dining room table I placed it next to her. Throwing a grateful look in my direction she sank into it. Bill, meanwhile, sat down on the couch again.
“Well, Bill,” she said his name for the third time in under a minute as she clasped and unclasped her hands. “It’s been a long time. What brings you here?” Then she looked all flustered. “I mean, of course, it’s your house, so of course you can come here whenever you like, I only thought....wondered, I mean.....” Meg floundered impressively on, and I couldn’t find the heart to leave her wallowing. Plus this was too good an opportunity to miss.
“Bill’s here about the re-write,” I explained. And then, without giving myself time to change my mind, I rushed on. “He’s had second thoughts about the whole idea, haven’t you?” I looked at Bill then, willing him to agree. He didn’t really have much choice, but if he decided to call my bluff I’d be in trouble. Luckily, he elected to play along.
“Urm, yes, I have.” He agreed, then stopped as if he had no idea what else to say. Honestly, for a couple of critically acclaimed novelists, these two sure had trouble stringing sentences together.
“Yes, Bill was just explaining to us that he thinks it would be wrong to try and fix what is essentially a fatally flawed story,” Dan cut in smoothly. Was he mad? You don’t tell a famous writer like Bill Mawson his writing is fatally flawed! I braced myself for the storm of protest to erupt. But it never happened. I looked a Bill and saw, to my astonishment, that he was nodding his head in agreement. But still he didn’t speak.
“Really?” Meg was looking at Bill now, and she was looking as amazed as I felt. “But I thought…I mean I wasn’t sure but…..your editor? Insisting you publish?”
“No, no, not really.....well, yes,” Bill managed to say. “She was, I mean we had agreed.....but that was before I realized that.....before I decided to....” He floundered. For two otherwise intelligent human beings they sure had trouble stringing coherent sentences together all of a sudden.
“Before you realized the story was just too personal?” I threw him what I thought was a lifeline, but he looked at me as if I’d just threatened to hold his head under the water.
“Too personal?” He squeaked, his face turning an interesting shade of pink again. Meg was looking flustered too, her gaze avoiding Bill’s. I knew she was hoping I wouldn’t say anything about her. But it was hardly fair for Bill to suffer alone.
“You know,” I said, looking her square in the face. She was quaking in her boots now. But this was the only way I knew to move the two of them in the direction they needed to go. No more pussy footing around, as my Gran would say. “On account of it being all based on that summer you met Bill.” There was no going back now. “We talked about it being the work of an angry young man. Understandably, really, given how you treated him.” I said to Meg. I was gambling here, and Bill didn’t disappoint.
“I think you’d better watch what you’re saying,” he growled, his concern for Meg’s feelings all too evident. “I don’t know where you think you get off speaking to Meg that way. She wasn’t to know how I felt, and she never gave me any reason to believe she returned my feelings.” Bill stopped then, realizing he’d said more than he had meant to. But judging by the way Meg was looking at him now, I knew Dan and I should make ourselves scarce. This was a conversation for the two of them to continue without an audience.
“Dan?” I said. He was already ahead of me, in thought and motion, as he headed for the door.
“You’re right, Paige,” he said, “we don’t have time for that coffee now, we’re going to be late for that thing if we don’t hurry. C’mon.”
“Okay, well, bye. See you later,” I threw over my shoulder, and before Meg could protest we were out the front door and hurrying down the driveway. I glanced back to see if she was pursuing us and was relieved to see the door remained firmly closed behind us.
As soon as we had turned onto the main road, and were out of sight of the house, Dan grabbed me by the waist and before I could protest he had lifted me up so my hands had no choice but to clutch at his shoulders as he swung me around in an exuberant circle.
