Time After Time

The whole household, and many people from nearby villages, joined the search for the boy. Lizzie did not speak a word all day, even after Mabel had sent for her mother and father. The blacksmith was furious, and refused to come, preferring to take part in the search. Lizzie’s mother wept and pleaded with her daughter to tell them if she knew anything.

It was past midnight. Kate sat at the window of Mabel’s bedroom staring into the black, rain drenched night. A cold damp film of sweat covered her face. She had been awake most of the night and was as weak as a kitten. Her limbs ached and her mind replayed the events of the last few days, trying to form a rational explanation. She went over everything James had said to them. With hindsight, his concern for his father now seemed more than fear of the cannibals in the tale.

Kate was sick; the fever was affecting her mind. Had some strange medieval virus slipped past her immune system? She had food poisoning. It was not surprising given the hygiene standards. Kate worried about the boys. If they too were ill, they would not be able to cope. She needed sleep but her mind would not settle.

Behind her, the sound of snoring came from the bed. Mabel and the children were deep asleep and would be for hours. Downstairs was silent. The greasy odour of roasted meat and smoke lingered throughout the house, clinging to everything.

Kate had often imagined travelling in time. In her fantasies, it was a wonderful adventure. The reality was different. This was a terrible place. The worst prison imaginable, and for those who lived here, the only escape would be death. No wonder religion was so popular. It was a world so god-forsaken, so bereft of comfort. It was understandable people believed the next world would bring release from misery. Belief was the wrong word. It should be hope.

A powerful gust of wind caught the rain and sent it lashing against the window. Kate peered through the glass at the shimmering reflection of the moon on floodwaters. As she turned away, she detected a tiny shift in the darkness out of the corner of her eye. Climbing to her feet, Kate leaned forward. She cupped her hands against the glass and peered out into the night. There she saw a small figure looking at her window. The movement came again, a thin arm raised, a boy waving. The child turned away and walked towards the edge of the woods.

Heart thumping against her chest, Kate turned and ran for the door. She descended the stairs three at a time into the hall. A second later, her foot caught on something and she found herself sprawling on the ground. A sleepy grumbling came from one of one of the many servants scattered across the floor. Kate climbed to her feet and rushed to the door; she pulled the handle but it would not budge. Returning to the man she had tripped over moments earlier, Kate shook him awake.

“Open the door!”

The man mumbled and tried to return to his slumber.

She shook him harder.

“The keys. Where are the keys to the front door?”

The man gestured to the wall nearby. Kate ran in the direction he was pointing, and found the keys hanging from a hook. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, releasing a blast of wind and rain into the hall. Without pause, she sprinted across the field, at the far end of which, on the edge of the woods stood the tiny figure of a boy. He was waiting for her. At the same moment, Kate’s foot sank into the mud and her left shoe came off. She turned to retrieve it but the dark field merged with the night. Looking towards the woods, she saw the boy disappearing amongst the trees.

Kicking off her remaining shoe, Kate sprinted as fast as she could, and within half a minute, she was at the tree line. Here she spotted the path by which Simon had led them to the house a couple of days earlier. She had no idea where the boy had gone but this appeared to be the only route through the thick vegetation.

“James!” She shouted.

Kate paused and listened. The sound of the rain and wind against the trees drowned out everything else. She continued as fast as she could. It was difficult enough in the darkness but running barefoot, she had to take extra care.

Kate lost track of time, losing the path and finding it again. Shapes loomed out of the darkness, shouts, screams, whispers. It could have been minutes, hours or days. The seasons seemed to change, one moment it would be hot, another moment icy cold. Thick green fog filled the forest. It was as though she had been wandering through the woods forever. Her soaked nightdress clung to the skin. Brambles scratched her legs. Cuts and bruises covered her feet.

Kate emerged into a clearing filled with blackened stumps. The sun was rising. It was not a clearing but the other edge of the woods where Wigan should have been. She stumbled on as the light continued to spread. It was getting hot already, her dress drying.

James was sat alone on a fallen tree. She sat beside him.

“What happened to you James? Everyone has been out looking for you. Your mother is distraught with worry.”

James looked at Kate. “She left me.”

“Your mum left you? Don’t be silly.”

“She said we were going for a picnic. We walked for hours, until I had no idea where we were. She told me to gather some wood, but when I finished and looked for her she was gone.”

“It doesn’t make any sense James. She must have got lost.”

When James spoke again, he broke into sobs.

“I found my way home again and saw her working outside the house. I ran to her, thinking she would be happy to see me returned. She shouted at me to go away. She said they couldn’t afford to keep me anymore. I pleaded with her, but she said she wasn’t my real mum. She said they had found me a couple of years ago. Then she turned her back and went into the house.”

Kate hugged the little boy. She was crying with him.

They sat, Kate stroking his hair without speaking until the heat became unbearable.

“We need to get out of this sun,” said Kate.

“Follow me.”

They took the road along the River back into the woods.

“You can only come here at night. During the day, it gets much hotter. There are other places, better places, like the one where you live.”

“You know where I am from?”

He nodded.

“You think of them as different places,” said Kate. “But they are different times.”

“It’s the same thing. He said you might not remember. I don’t remember. I was too young.”

“Who are you talking about? What do you mean by remember?”

“He said it might be too late.”

It was much cooler again. The rain had returned. James led her to the shelter of a vast oak tree where they curled up together. She held him tight and shivered. A damp film of sweat covered her face.