by Alexia James
Why wouldn’t he be tired with her behaviour? She was tired of it herself. She had coldly knocked Martin out, bound and dragged him a hundred years back in time to dump the problem on Jeremy’s doorstep.
She sighed as she thought about it all. It was hard to keep the situation in perspective when she had only her thoughts for company. She wished she had someone else to talk things through with.
She had no access to her future friendship with Brett, who would have been the best sounding board for the mess she was currently in. She was also anxious about seeing Janet in case she met up with Greg Jones, who would almost certainly have been appraised of the situation.
If she went to see Janet, she might find herself escorted back to Jeremy via Greg, or even interrogated by Greg, which, for some bizarre reason, was somehow worse than being left to Jeremy’s mercy. She shook her head slightly, how had she managed to get into such a mess? She was so alone. She could not even spend an afternoon with Gus to escape from her troubles.
The rain drizzled down and the morning wore on. Freya served her customers and had takeaway soup for lunch at a nearby café as she pondered on all the things that had led up to this point. She almost laughed when it occurred to her that she was on the run from the cops from 2112.
The whole situation was ludicrous. She tried to imagine what Joe would say to it all and then realised that here was someone she could go and see. Fair enough, she couldn’t tell him her troubles, but she could at least spend time with someone friendly and gain an escape from all her problems for a while.
Jeremy would be unlikely to look for her there. He would already have asked Joe about her and Joe would have told him that he had only met her once or twice and that she didn’t know him at all.
Jeremy would never expect her to go somewhere so close to where he was living. For the first time in days, she felt her spirits lift slightly and wondered if it was raining in 1908 today. The thought of a beautiful sunny afternoon away from all her troubles was incredibly tempting.
Her stall was doing well and she estimated that in another hour or two she would be able to pack up and make a move. She would have to be careful about going so close to the farmhouse. The time rip was only a few hundred yards from Jeremy’s back door and Freya was very conscious of the proximity.
She thought fleetingly that some camouflage gear would be handy and had to stifle a laugh. She did have a long greyish green skirt and a pale yellow shirt that ought to be good enough.
She thought of the women of Joe’s village. How some of them had long shawls over their hair and decided it would not hurt to blend in, in case Jeremy should see her from a distance, her straight blond hair was far too distinctive. Better to cover it up and look like everyone else.
It helped relieve the tedium somewhat to plan her afternoon and by the time she was down to her last two buckets, she decided to stop for the day and head back to her flat.
The drive down was uneventful. The rain had more or less stopped and the roads were relatively clear of traffic. Once in the muddy lane, Freya took several deep breaths in an effort to calm down. It didn’t help much. Her heart was pounding in anticipation of sneaking so close to the farmhouse.
It was incredibly risky to come this close to where Jeremy lived, but Freya was sick of being alone with her thoughts. She needed a break from it all and she wanted to see Joe again.
With her heart in her mouth she crept around the edge of the field, looking warily around to make sure no one was near, before sneaking into the cover of the tree line.
The time doorway was nearly invisible without the sunlight, but she noticed that the grass and leaves were somewhat flattened around it and, uncaring of getting dirty, crouched down to rough up the grass with her hands so it stood up a bit.
Martin eased his four by four down the muddy lane. He didn’t want to get mud over the new paintwork and silently cursed Freya.
He had been driving past her flat looking for a parking space when she had come out and hopped into her van. Hanging an illegal U-turn at the lights, he followed her; being careful to keep a car between them as much as he could.
He’d been waiting days for another opportunity to see her. He’d searched Portobello Road for her several times and had started to get seriously annoyed that he could not find her. It was more risky going to her flat, much easier to remain hidden in the crowded market, but now it seemed the strategy had paid off.
He rounded the bend in the muddy lane, saw her van parked to one side and quickly reversed up out of sight around the bend, hoping he hadn’t blown it. Half the fun was taking her by surprise.
He looked out at the muddy lane in distaste. It was just as well he was dressed in old jeans and trainers. He locked up and crept carefully along the lane, keeping close to the bushes. With the mirrored glass on the back doors, it was impossible to see if she was still in the van.
He crept closer until he could see in her offside wing mirror. The van was empty. He walked up more boldly now. Trying the doors and finding them locked, he peered inside the window. Where was she?
The lane was a dead end leading to a cast-iron gate with muddy field beyond. It was a quagmire around the gate. He could see cattle in the field, but a person would have to wade through ankle deep muck to get anywhere near. He wondered briefly if Freya had picked through that lot, but there didn’t appear to be anything of interest in the field beyond.
The side of the lane next to her van was drier and edged with hedgerows. There was a gap halfway along leading into another field, with a farmhouse visible in the distance.
His gaze narrowed and something gleaming caught his eye. It was only a string of raindrops on a length of webbing and he nearly dismissed it, but then something about it made him take a closer look. It was not webbing but a fine strand of gold hair caught on the hedge.
He looked up at the farmhouse again and knew he had found where Freya had taken him the previous week. He still owed her for that and for setting her guard dog on him. Freya’s new boyfriend had threatened him for frightening her, but Sanders was obviously weak. Why bother threatening someone if you were going to help them out.
He dismissed the other man. His issues were with Freya and not some pretty boyfriend trying to impress her. It would be just like her to squeeze through the hedge instead of driving around to the front of the building. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the farmhouse where he had awakened after Freya had kidnapped him.
The gap was wide enough that he got through without difficulty and the field beyond wasn’t too muddy. It appeared to be wasteland. Long grasses and weeds covered the expanse, but did not look like crops of any kind.
Movement caught his eye. He could see Freya in the distance, her back to him as she walked around the edge of the field. He felt a smile curl his lips. Perhaps he would say a quick hello before she went to see her boyfriend.
Better yet, he would go and see the boyfriend too. Yes, that was more like it, wait for her to go inside and then pay a little friendly visit. Martin had no doubt that while Sanders might enjoy threatening him, the man would be unlikely to fight him.
People liked to think they were tough, but when it came down to it, few liked to get their hands dirty. Martin had met a few men who had built themselves up in the gym but could not fight their way out of a paper bag. Fighting was about more than muscle, ask any ten-year-old black belt.
He smirked as he followed Freya around the edge of the field, keeping well back and close to the hedgerows in case she should turn around. She seemed oblivious for the most part, only turning once when she was closer to the house. Martin ducked down out of sight as she scanned the field.
He could not see her while he was crouched down. The long grasses that hid him from sight also prevented him from seeing her. He waited through two long minutes and then cautiously rose to peer over the field.
He was just in time to see her disappear into the wood. Trust Freya to walk through that lot just to cut a corner. He strolled along the
field edge, feeling more comfortable as he turned the corner and headed around the wood.
There didn’t appear to be any windows on this side of the house, so there was less chance of him being spotted too soon. It was a grey afternoon, but at least there was no drizzle. Walking around the house, he noticed the windows were boarded up.
The whole place looked deserted and he puzzled over it. He remembered clearly the evening he had woken up in the field. He was sure Jeremy had come from the house.
He replayed the scene from memory: Freya standing over him, anger and fear on her face, and then, after she had taken off, Sanders stalking toward him trying to look threatening. The house at his back, its windows shining with light. Casting bright gold rectangles across the yard.
Martin looked again at the boarded up windows. Had he been on the other side of the house? He walked around the building. Yes, he had been around this side, but the windows here were also boarded up.
Litter and weeds clung around the grass near the back door. Wrapping his hand in his sweater, he punched his fist through a small window next to the door, which had escaped the boarding. Then reached through and opened it.
He looked onto blackness, dust and grime. Nothing had been touched here in years. He pulled the door shut.
This couldn’t be the place. Perhaps there was another farmhouse in the vicinity. Martin scanned the fields and made for the nearest boundary where he had last seen Freya.
He spent an unproductive afternoon trooping around the fields. There seemed to be nothing else for miles around. He came across a disused barn, ravaged by fire, but there wasn’t a lot else. A modern farmhouse with dozens of outbuildings was the only other house, and Martin didn’t need to go anywhere near it to know this wasn’t where he’d been with Sanders and Freya.
Some time later, he stalked back to the abandoned building. It was the closest thing in his mind to where he had been, but it was clearly impossible. He was annoyed that he had lost Freya. He must have gone the opposite direction to her and by the time he had circled back, she was long gone. He shrugged and began to walk back to her van. He would catch her when she returned to it.
Freya spent a better afternoon. It had been nerve-wracking getting through the time doorway, being so close to the farmhouse, but she hadn’t seen any sign of Jeremy. The adrenaline rush was delicious and the walk to Joe’s had calmed her.
It was sunny in 1908, a beautiful afternoon, and Freya had drunk in every drop of it after the relentless grey skies of the past few days. Joe had been pleased to see her and it had been lovely to cement her friendship with the old man.
It was funny, too, that she was less likely to come across Jeremy in 1908, visiting Joe, than in her own flat and time. The irony was too entertaining to resist. She was feeling pleased with herself as she walked back round the edge of the field in 2008.
The smell of the grasses was lovely and, not for the first time, she wondered who the field belonged to in this time. The M4 was an annoying buzz of sound in the background. A reminder of how much change 100 years can affect on a place.
Her mind played over the events of the afternoon. Helping Joe chase a chicken that had escaped and, later on, sitting down to tea with him in his sunny little kitchen.
As she was approaching the lane, a stone lodged itself in her sandal. Freya shook her foot once or twice, trying to dislodge it, but nothing doing. With a sigh, she squatted down to deal with the thing. Sitting amongst the long grasses, she untied the strap and shook the stone free.
The grass felt lovely on her bare toes so she took off the other shoe and sat for a moment, looking up at the sky. She was near enough to the field edge that she could see the top of the hedgerow, although she was surrounded on all sides by the long grasses.
Freya pulled on her shoes and was distracted by a cough. She paused, listening intently; there was a scuffle and the sound of a throat being cleared. Freya got to her knees and peered through the grasses, trying to see through the bottom of the hedge.
She could see car tyres and crawled closer to the hedge to peer through. A large four by four was parked behind her van, completely boxing her in. She scowled, noting a pair of shoes the other side of the car. After a few minutes, the owner of the shoes strolled back towards her van and she got a glimpse of him. Martin.
She cringed back automatically even though he could not possibly see her crouched behind the hedge. She scuttled back to her nest in the long grasses, heart pounding. What was he doing here and how had he managed to find her? If she had not stopped to get the stone out of her shoe, she would have walked directly into him.
He must have found her van somehow and was now waiting for her to return to it. Maybe he had a tracking device on her van and had found her that way. Well, she was not going near him. She’d just wait until he got fed up and left.
It was a lovely afternoon, perfect for lazing around in a field and she would wait all night if she had to. It was not as if she hadn’t done it before. An hour later, Freya crept back to the hedge to peer through again.
Martin was talking on a mobile while pacing back and forth. She bit her lip. How come he got a signal in that dratted lane when she couldn’t. She scowled. She only caught a little of what he was saying. Something about having plans for the evening already.
Her eyes narrowed. He was standing, weight on one foot, and hand on hip with his jacket swept back slightly. Something yellow poking from his jeans pocket caught her eye and she realised it was a bundle of plastic tie wraps. Her heart seemed to squeeze and she felt cold all over.
Martin finished his call and leaned back against the side front of his car. He was facing the other way, so she snuck back to her nest in the grasses to sit and try to recover a little.
It struck her then how close to him she was. If he should walk through the gap in the hedge, he would surely see her. She had to move.
Creeping back out from the long grasses, she crouched by the hedge once more. Martin was leaning across the bonnet of his car now, reading a newspaper. She crept away, keeping close to the hedge, feeling relieved when she turned the corner and the long grasses hid her from view should he step out into the field.
Nearer to the farmhouse, she crept back into the grasses, going further in this time, although she had a feeling he wouldn’t stray from the car. He had blocked her in, but she could get out if she were prepared to gouge her paintwork.
She sighed. He couldn’t wait here forever for her and she would hear him start his engine if he left. The field was silent but for the birds and insects. She huffed and glanced down, then jumped up. Her skirt was covered in ants, millions of them. She had been sitting next to an enormous nest, almost as tall as the grasses.
Without thought, she lunged for the time doorway and then ran about madly, flapping at her clothing to get rid of the insects. She shuddered as she came to a stop and peered down at herself. She couldn’t see any more ants but it still felt as though they were crawling all over her. She huffed and looked at Jeremy’s farmhouse, feeling rather helpless for a moment. It all kept coming back to this.
She tried to think reasonably over her situation. She couldn’t run away from everything forever. It was stupid to keep avoiding Jeremy when he would catch up with her anyway eventually. It would be better to have the meeting on her terms.
If she went back to him and apologised for the previous tangle she had left, reasoned with him like an adult, perhaps he would help her. She’d only run off last time because she had not wanted to get Brett in trouble, and if she told Jeremy she’d hidden a time device in the field, then he wouldn’t search her for it.
She wanted to see him anyway. Maybe if she told him how sorry she was for running off last time, then things would get back on a more even footing again. It was not as if she could think of a better solution. She rubbed a hand tiredly over her face and dislodged another ant from her hair.
She shuddered and ran around to the kitchen door, knocking and then going quickly in before s
he could change her mind. The room was empty. She sunk her teeth into her lower lip then walked around to the connecting door.
“Jeremy?” Her voice was too quiet. She sighed and tried again, “Jer—” He came out of the sitting room and she almost collided with him.
“Freya.”
She inhaled and backed up a pace. “Hi,” she said, feeling breathless. “Um, sorry, I...” She stopped and took another breath then gave him a smile. “Bet you didn’t expect to see me, huh?”
“No, but I’m glad you’re here. How are you, can I get you a drink?”
She sighed with relief. It was going to be okay. “Yes, please. I wanted to see you again. Um, sorry I ran off last time. Everything got a bit freaky and I think I wasn’t quite myself after Martin and the knife and everything.”
He gave her a slow smile. “It’s all right. I’m glad you came back.”
She followed him into the kitchen. He got a glass from the cupboard and a jug from the larder, turned and found her standing closer than he’d anticipated. He hid his smile and put the glass on the table, pondering what had brought her back again. “Lemonade?”
“Please.” Freya made herself step back. She wanted to put her arms around him and hold on. She mentally shook herself. The lemonade was cool and sweet. “Mmm, did you make this yourself?”
“Yes. Here, have a seat.”
“Thanks. It’s good. So. Um, how’re things?”
“Very well, thank you, and you? I trust you are well?”
“Oh yes, fine.” She put her glass down on the table and bit her lip against the somewhat awkward silence. She glanced up and saw Jeremy focused on her shoulder with a slight frown.
He reached out and brushed something from her sleeve. “You’ve got an ant.”
“That’s it! I’ve had it with them. I was sitting in the field and when I looked down they were all over me.” She twisted this way and that, trying to see if there were any more. She glanced back and found him laughing at her, but at least it had broken the ice between them.
