by C J M Naylor
Mathias turned to go back up the stairs and I followed.
Mathias and I made our way back up to the study. I thanked him for showing me around and then left rather abruptly. Once again, I was thinking about why I was doing this. Was it worth it? I knew it was, but this life, this ability—it all seemed too much to me. Once again though, I fell back on my main reason. It was the main reason for all of this—the woman who had protected me—my biological mother.
"What's wrong?"
Phillip and I were having dinner at his apartment. He had prepared spaghetti. It was good, so that wasn't why I wasn't eating it, which he could tell.
I put down my fork and looked at him.
"Do you think I'm strange?
"Phillip put down his fork as well and looked at me, his eyebrows raised.
"Is that a joke?"
I shook my head and gave him a dirty look.
"Why would I ask something like that jokingly?" I asked, my tone upset.
"No. I don't think you're strange. Is this about the fact that you are a Timekeeper?"
"Well, isn't this whole experience a bit out of the ordinary for you?" I asked him.
"Of course, it is Abigail," Phillip said, "it isn't every day you find out your fiancée is a Timekeeper. But then again, I already knew about the voices and visions, so I wasn't too surprised."
I sighed.
"I just don't know if this something I want to do with my life or not," I responded. "I don't know if this job is cut out for me."
"Only you can make that decision Abby. It isn't something I can decide for you, you have to make it for yourself."
Phillip continued to eat, but I sat there in silence.
After dinner, we decided to go out for a walk. We would just do a quick walk around Phillip's apartment building. It was too cold for anything else.
As we walked, I admired the sky and how bright the stars were. I wondered if time existed among these balls of gas that lit up our solar system. I wondered if they were immune to the effects of aging and growing old. Did they stay up there forever? Did they always guard over us? Did they watch us humans in everything that we did?
Phillip's hand was warm in mine. I swung his arm as we walked. It had been quite a long day and I was fairly tired. I leaned in against Phillip and he put his arm around me, keeping it firm on my shoulders.
"Are you tired?" he asked me.
"Very. Mathias and I did a lot today at the Headquarters."
He suddenly leaned down and kissed me. We stood there for a moment, in the middle of the sidewalk, sharing a small but passionate kiss. He held my face in his hands as he moved his lips with mine. Finally, he pulled away from me so I could breathe.
"I don't think I can walk now," I joked, "that was very unexpected."
Phillip laughed. "Alright then."
I was suddenly pulled off my feet and into Phillip's arms. He had never done this before, but it felt nice, trusting him to hold me. I smiled and put my arms around his neck. He smiled back and began to walk back into the apartment.
"Are you sure I'm not too heavy for you?" I asked him.
He laughed again. "You are as light as a feather my dear."
All sense of humor and laughter faded however when we got back to the door of Phillip's apartment. Attached to the door was another note, just like the one from yesterday, written in the same handwriting.
You look so happy with him. But I can tell you don't share the same feelings with your father. You yearn to know about your mother, don't you? Come to me.
"What the hell is this?" Phillip muttered. He ripped the note off the door and tore it into pieces. I simply stood there, motionless. Whoever was leaving these notes was following me. They had watched us at the cemetery and had watched us tonight. What was going on? And then the conversation I had had with my mother that morning came back to me. I realized I still needed to confide in Phillip what I had found out.
Phillip unlocked the door of his apartment and pulled me in after him. He immediately locked the door behind him, bolting it as well as putting up the chain. He went through his apartment and searched in every closet, looked in the bathroom, his bedroom, and made sure all the windows were locked.
"The place is clear," he said, coming back into the living room.
I sat down on the couch and beckoned him over.
"I need to tell you something," I said as he sat next to me.
I confided in him the events of that day and how Mathias may or may not be my father. I told him my feelings and how either my mother was lying to protect me—or telling the truth to protect me—but she was doing something. I also expressed my yearning to learn more about my past and why I wanted to go back, despite telling my mother I wouldn't.
Phillip surprised me when he said he understood why I was continuing to see Mathias, but to be cautious and careful.
"I can tell you're very passionate about this," he said. "I know I tell you what you should or should not do sometimes, but that's just me trying to protect you. But I realize you need to make your own decisions, so I respect the one you are making."
I smiled at him. "I'd better get home. I shouldn't be out this late."
"Okay, here goes the protection thing. I'd rather you stayed here. Obviously, someone is out there watching you, and I would just feel more comfortable if you stayed."
I supposed that I needed to respect that from him, so I stayed, but worry was still in the back of my mind.
I ended up sleeping on the couch with Phillip. I didn't feel it was as inappropriate as sleeping in a bed together. I was curled into Phillip, his arms held tightly around me. I was comfortable. By all means I should have fallen asleep, but I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about the notes and who had been leaving them. Why were they following me? What did they want? Was Mathias really my father? Was my mother lying? The endless questions raced through my mind.
My thoughts were broken up when the window above the couch shattered into a million pieces. Glass hit my face and I quickly shut my eyes to protect them. I felt pieces of glass digging into my skin and I screamed. Phillip awoke immediately and was cursing. He stood up and ran across the room, flipping on the light. I looked down onto the floor. In the middle of the room was a large brick that had been sent flying through the window. Attached to the brick was a piece of paper, this one different from the one the notes had been written on. I bent down and pulled off the paper and looked it over. It had clearly been written by someone other than the person who had left the previous notes.
My heart was racing. Phillip looked down at the note and then yelled out in fury. He ran to the window and bent out it, trying to see if whoever had thrown the brick was still there.
"I will find you, you fucking maniac!" he shouted into the streets of London, "you stay away from her!"
My attention was still on the note. Phillip's screams and curses were only in the background. I was disturbed by the note, disturbed by what it meant, and disturbed by what I was getting myself into. I kept rereading the note and letting the words sink in—letting them fill me with more terror.
I killed her. I'll kill you too.
CHAPTER NINE
"Shit! That fucking hurts!"
I gave Phillip a look. Men could be such babies sometimes. They would give up their life for women—I knew Phillip would—but when it came to cuts and bruises they were babies.
Phillip sat on the stool of the toilet in his bathroom. I had alcohol out and I was cleaning the cuts where the glass shards had hit him. We had already cleaned and bandaged mine. He insisted I go first.
"Don't be such a baby," I muttered.
I dabbed a bit more alcohol onto the cut and he winced. I rolled my eyes and began to bandage the larger cuts. Luckily, neither of us had been hit too bad by the flying glass.
"Also," I continued, "your use of foul language has exceeded its limit for the night. So please, bite your tongue."
Phillip scowled at me. I ignored it and placed all of the
supplies back into the medicine cabinet. It was fairly late when we got back to sleep. We didn't report the incident, because well, because of my "condition" as a Timekeeper. Luckily, none of Phillip's neighbors had called down or showed up at his door about the noise. Because we didn’t want to sleep below a shattered window, we ended up in Phillip’s bed.
We lay in his bed for a while. He had me pulled in close to him, his arm around me.
"So, you think the notes are from two different people?" he asked.
"They have to be. It's different handwriting. I feel like maybe I have a person watching over me and a person trying to kill me at the same time."
"Do you think it could be him?" Phillip asked.
By him, I assumed he meant Mathias.
"I mean, if the letter that my biological mother left for mother is anything to go by, then possibly. But I've been with him multiple times now. If he wanted to kill me, he's had the chance."
"Maybe he's waiting for something," Phillip responded. He turned to me then. I could barely see him in the darkness, but I knew he was looking right at me. "Please promise me you will be careful.
”I put my hand on his cheek. "I will."
We didn't talk anymore, but he continued to pull me close to him. I was practically glued to him—he wouldn't let me go. I managed to fall asleep this time though.
The Thames was calm today. Phillip and I sat on a bench near the river. I stared out at the water. We were waiting to return to Phillip's flat. The window was getting fixed, so we had left for lunch and a walk.
"Maybe we should talk to Mathias about the notes," Phillip suggested.
"I don't know if we should trust him. Remember what you said last night."
He didn't respond. I continued to stare out at the river. It was beautiful. Works of nature were beautiful.
"Abigail."
I looked at Phillip. He looked concerned. I couldn't blame him. He was probably very worried about me right now, but this was my life, I couldn't change it. Could I?
"I just don't trust him," I finally responded, "I feel like he hides things from me. I know he does. He should have told me everything about my mother when we first met. Why should I have to pester him for questions? And obviously, my mother didn't want me to meet him for whatever reason, or else she wouldn't have said he was dead. Or my true father really is dead."
I got up and walked toward the river. The river flowed calmly, slightly hitting the bank. I stopped breathing. I heard Phillip shouting as I did.
The bombers were coming. My biological mother stood before me, her hand outstretched. Her blonde hair was still whipping around her face in the night's wind.
"Abby," she said, "Stay away."
"Abby!" My mum was screaming behind me from the bomb shelter. "What are you doing? Why aren't you coming to me? Why aren't you listening to me? They are coming."
The bombs dropped.
My eyes flashed open and water was all around me. I was slowly sinking into the abyss of the Thames. Cold, freezing water was numbing my entire body as I sank further down. I felt a tight grip on my arm and turned my head to see Phillip. He pulled me upward and we broke the surface.
The next hour or so was a blur. I remembered Phillip pulling me out of the river. I remember getting back into Phillip's car and driving back to his flat. The window had been replaced when we got back inside. I stood in the middle of Phillip's living room and suddenly realized I was freezing cold. My body was soaking wet. Water dripped off my clothes.
"Abigail," Phillip said. "Are you listening to me? What happened?"
"I don't know. I was having a vision or something and then I woke up in the water."
"Why did you fall in though?"
"I don't know!" I was shouting now. "I just did. I'm sorry, I must've fell in during my vision."
"Alright. Alright fine." I could tell he was frustrated.
Phillip pulled his shirt off. I was suddenly exposed to his muscles and half naked body He then unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants. He was standing in front of me wearing only his knickers, which he began to take off.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Undressing," he responded, "I'll warm up faster if I'm completely naked."
"Phillip, please stop. We aren't married and this isn't appropriate."
"Oh, forgive me," Phillip said, "I just thought that I could do something out of the norm for you since you decided to jump in the Thames!"
"I didn't jump!" I shouted back. "I fell in. There's a difference."
Phillip had almost completely pulled off his knickers. I did the only thing I could think of. I undressed too.
I took off my shoes and reached behind me and unzipped my dress. I stripped it off and stood before him wearing just a slip and he finally stopped undressing. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm sorry," I said to him, "I didn't mean to fall in. The vision was just consuming me."
"You have no idea how crazy you sound right now," Phillip said.
"People do crazy things. We're standing in front of each other almost completely naked. I mean that's not really crazy, but you know we're not married and well..."
Phillip walked up to me and pulled me into his arms and kissed me. We began to kiss passionately. He lifted me up and we moved into his bedroom. He dropped me on the bed and we continued to kiss, but finally I placed a hand on his chest.
"Phillip, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you, well, excited."
Even though I was apologizing for getting Phillip excited, the truth was that I was a little excited too. I had never been that close to him intimately and it made me want to get married even sooner.
"Sure," he said, rolling off of me onto his back. "You just took off your clothes because I was doing it."
"Exactly," I responded. I thought about it for a moment. Why did I take off my clothes? I wanted him to stop so I did it anyway. This whole day was turning into a ball of insanity.
"I just want to wait until we are married," I told him, "before we get this close again."
Phillip rolled onto his side and touched my chin with his fingers. "Let's get married now then. We don't have to wait."
"Phillip," I said, trying to make him understand, "we are going to have a wedding. Our families will be there. It will be beautiful. Why let that go?"
"Why do we need such a big extravagant wedding?" he asked. "Why can't it just be me and you. And maybe a few people."
"That's fine, and I want to get married to you as soon as possible, but I also want to be engaged for a while. For some reason, I want to enjoy being engaged to you as much as I want to enjoy being married to you."
"I suppose you're right," he said.
"Of course, I am. I always am."
He rolled his eyes at me and I got up out of the bed. I went to his dresser and pulled out some clothes and threw them at him.
"Now get dressed," I said, "I'm going to take a shower."
Phillip got up and walked toward me.
"A shower sounds like a great idea!"
I slammed the door in his face.
"Alone," I yelled, laughing.
The water felt warm against my skin. It made me feel good, especially after the jump into the icy river. I ran my fingers through my wet hair and let it fall against my back. I thought about the day and wondered why I had done the things I did. I turned off the shower, dried off, put on the pair of clothes that I left at Phillip’s in case of emergency, and walked back out into the bedroom.
Phillip was already in bed and I began to walk out of the room.
"Abby..."
I sighed and turned to look at him. He patted the empty bed next to him and I rolled my eyes. I shut his bedroom door and crawled into bed with him.
He pulled me into his side and held me close. I could tell he had just put on deodorant. He smelt fresh and clean.
"Abby, Abby, Abby," he said softly in the darkness. We stayed like that for a while, the two of us in each other's arms. Slowly, I nodded
off to sleep.
After the events of the previous day, I decided to go to confession. I had not been in quite a while and I felt it would be good to go. But there was also something else I wanted to ask. As I walked into St. Patrick's, I admired the vaulted ceilings and the intricate designs of everything. Incense engulfed my senses. I had always liked the smell. It made me feel calm and safe. The small confessional at the side of the church was empty. I slipped inside and slid the door shut.
The small window in front of me slid open, and the priest began with the sign of the cross. He had a thick Scottish accent that was kind of soothing. I told the priest my sins and he said the blessings and forgave my sins, telling me to go in peace. I didn't leave however.
"Father?"
"Yes, child?"
"Do you believe God gives us trials and sufferings?"
There was silence for a moment. I could hear the breathing of the priest on the other side of me.
"What do you mean, child?"
I hesitated for a minute. What should I say?
"Recently. I've met my biological father and I've discovered some things about myself that have begun to change my life. These things have caused a struggle. Sometimes I don't know if I can make it through."
"I believe," the priest said, "that God gives us trials in life. Every person has to deal with things that they do not want to deal with in life. However, I believe that these are gifts that get us closer to heaven. The more we work through these trials in life and the more suffering we endure but make it through, the more we are rewarded in the next life."
It was what my mother had always told me, but I felt a feeling of clarity I hadn't felt before. I knew my mission was not over. It was only just beginning. But I felt like the path ahead of me was going to be okay.
