by Annie Dalton
Then it hit me. “Oh, you little devil!” I scolded myself. “That’s why you took all those night shifts! You were hoping the Beeby family would flash up on your screen one night!”
Under normal conditions, I’d be shocked at myself. But part of me was still floating in Time, and all of me was exhausted, and absolutely nothing felt real.
Go to bed, Mel, I told myself. In the morning things will look better.
And I lay down on my economy-sized bed and killed the lights.
You couldn’t call it a dream, exactly. It was more like a movie trailer. Three Elizabethan teenagers ran through the rain, laughing and joking. There were gold sparkles dancing in the air, all mixed up with the rain and the night, and I heard myself saying, “Aren’t fifty-fifty set-ups the dangerous kind?”
Then the trailer cut out and a new one started, almost identical to the first, only for some reason there weren’t nearly so many sparkles, and the streets seemed darker and way more menacing.
I don’t know how many times I had to watch that scene. And each time it got darker and more nightmarish. Even the rain was nightmarish, thundering down overflows, flooding into rain barrels and puddles, crashing and sloshing. Suddenly I couldn’t take any more. I sat up gasping for breath, my heart pounding.
Someone was tapping on my door. “It’s me, Reuben.”
I jumped up and let him in.
He was still in his baggy martial-arts gear, looking worryingly pale around the edges. “I know it’s late.” He half-fell into my armchair, then winced and prised a leather boot out from under his behind.
“I hate to say this,” he said in his new, tired voice, “but I have a bad feeling we lost the plot back there.”
“Me too,” I admitted. I told him about my horror-movie dream trailers.
Reuben closed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound good. We must have tipped the cosmic balance the wrong way.”
I was horrified. “But how? I mean -”
Lola stumped in, with a flamingo-pink robe thrown over her PJs, her black curls sticking up like radio antennae. “Could you just keep it down?” she grumbled.
“Sorry, were we bothering you?” I said apologetically.
“Yeah, with your stupid negative thoughts!” Lola threw herself down on my rug. “Plus I was already being bothered by my stupid negative thoughts,” she added grumpily.
Reuben reached over and ruffled her hair. “Let’s hear them. The stupid negative thoughts of Lola Sanchez.”
Lola began ticking them off on her fingers. “One, Michael wasn’t there to meet us. He’s always there. Two, Al was tying himself in knots, using every word in his vocabulary, except ‘You blew it, kids’. Three, I ran into Amber in the hall and she totally didn’t know what to do with herself when she saw me.”
“Four,” Reuben interrupted. “It was just the same at the dojo. I started to feel like I didn’t even exist.”
“FIVE,” Lola said talking over him in a louder voice, “I feel as if we’ve just made a big mistake. I can feel it, in here.” She thumped her chest.
I was horrified. “You honestly think Michael is giving us the cold shoulder because we screwed up our mission? He’d never do that.”
“It’s not like they’re punishing us,” said Reuben. “Just giving us the space to figure things out for ourselves.”
But none of us had the slightest idea what we’d done wrong.
“We can’t do anything until Michael gets back,” Lola sighed. “We should get some sleep.”
“I’m staying up, thanks,” I shuddered. “I’m not risking that horror movie again.”
With a feeling like going down too fast in a lift, I had a chilling thought. What if our depressing homecoming had something to do with my weird hallucination at the playhouse?
What if my imaginary PODS agent was real? If so, I had really screwed up BIG time. I was flooded with panic. I’ve got to tell them, I thought. I’ve got to tell them now!
“Lollie,” I croaked. “Remember our first field-trip when I rescued the little kid in the air raid?”
“Do I! You should have heard her yell at Orlando, Sweetpea! She—”
I was desperately talking over her. “Remember that PODS guy?”
“Your bad boy look-alike? What about him?”
I described how I’d seen him at the Elizabethan playhouse, passing himself off as human.
Lola gasped. “You’re kidding! You saw him again?”
I buried my face in my hands. “I wasn’t sure if was imagining it. I am so STUPID.”
Reuben’s eyes kept closing. “Don’t beat yourself up, Mel,” he said wearily.
“Why did it have to be me?” I wailed. “Why didn’t you guys see him?”
“Maybe it’s you he’s after, babe?” Lola suggested.
I felt myself turn cold. “Why? What have I ever done to him?”
“Who knows how their minds work,” Reuben said, without opening his eyes.
I started mentally replaying those vital last seconds on Earth. The stealthy sounds in the darkness - that was the PODS too. He’d love to think of me remembering it when it was too late.
Then I thought, maybe it’s not too late.
And a weird thing happened. All my fear and self-pity fell away. As if I was looking down from some high mountain peak somewhere, and seeing everything with total clarity. It’s not that I’d stopped being scared. More that I saw our situation incredibly calmly. As if I’d thrown a dice, and was about to make my next move in some vast cosmic game, a game I totally didn’t understand.
“We shouldn’t have left those kids,” I told the others. “Come on. We’re going back.”
Al is a highly-trained professional, so if he was surprised when three trainee angels showed up in the middle of the night, demanding to be returned to Tudor times, he didn’t let it show.
Actually, I got the feeling he was deeply relieved. Not only that, but he had a portal all ready to go. He ran the usual checks then I noticed him shuffling his shoes a bit.
“Look, I don’t know how much Michael told you but the fact is, we have a situation which means I can’t beam you back through the exact same time window. I got to send you through the next available window, OK?” He lowered his voice. “Like I say, we got a situation. Didn’t you ever wonder why the Agency sent you in the first place?”
“Well, actually—” I began.
“Michael didn’t want to do it,” he said earnestly. “But it was either send you or no-one, know what I’m saying? The only reason you guys were able to slip through was because of some cosmic loop-hole they’d overlooked.”
Reuben looked bewildered. “The Agency overlooked something?”
“He means the Opposition, Sweetpea,” Lola explained.
Al looked queasy. “I don’t discuss those people. Some words leave a bad taste, if you get my meaning?”
He doled out our angel tags. We put them on in total silence. I think we were all feeling slightly stunned.
“Hey, did I mention you got to swap humans?” he called as we climbed into the portal. “Sorry for any inconvenience, but it’s Agency policy.”
The last thing I saw through the portal door was Al shyly giving us the thumbs-up, like he was saying, “Better luck this time.”
Chapter Eight
We found ourselves in a crowd of happy, laughing Elizabethans. The soft chords of a lute drifted through the air. Everyone was carrying armfuls of white blossom. And from somewhere behind the jumbled church spires of London came the misty sound of a cuckoo
Lola’s face was a picture. “Did we just land in the middle of a wedding?”
“I think it’s some kind of May Day celebration,” said.
Her eyes brightened. “Like a fiesta?”
Reuben was equally enchanted. “Do they do this in your century, Mel?”
“Not where I come from,” I said with a grin.
And to prove this wasn’t a total Disney experience, a woman opened a window and emptied a
chamber pot into the street.
Our watches flashed and we made minor adjustments.
“Hey, they didn’t split us up!” said Reuben. “That means our humans are in this crowd somewhere. I wonder who’s got who this time?”
Lola’s watch and mine both beeped. Seconds later, two familiar figures wandered past, holding hands.
“I don’t believe it!” gasped Lola.
I didn’t believe it either. Was this honestly the first time-slot the Agency could manage? This Cat was two years older at least, and stunningly pretty, with her curls falling loose and a crown of blossoms in her hair. And Chance looked better in every way - happier, healthier, and just generally more there, somehow. The zing in my chest told me that he was my responsibility this time.
I won’t deny that it was deeply disturbing missing out on such a major chunk of their lives. Time-travel is weird like that. But I was so happy to see them safe after all my scary premonitions, that I could have kissed them. “Don’t they look great?” I burbled. “And they’re actually an item! How about that!”
We soon found out that Cat and Chance were on their way to meet Nick. This was more of a coincidence than it sounds. It seemed he’d been out of touch for months.
“He’s longing to see you,” Chance was saying. “He said he’d called into the Feathers several times but you’re never there.”
“With his fine new friend. I know, Nettie told me.” Cat sounded wary.
“Nick is extremely fine himself, these days,” he admitted. “I hardly recognised him when he came backstage. But he’s exactly the same. A new sweetheart for every day of the week.”
“What did you talk about?” she said curiously
“Oh, he had some kind of business proposition.” Chance sounded just a little too careless.
Cat was blushing furiously. “Did you tell Nick -you know?”
He beamed at her. “Of course! He was happy for us. He said it was a pity the cause of true love did not always run so smooth.”
She frowned. “That’s a very strange thing to say.”
Chance laughed. “You’re so suspicious, Catherine Darcy! Nick says you always think the worst of him. You’ll think differently when I tell you the tale he told me. It’s very tragic. Nick found one of the queen’s ladies weeping in the garden. A very beautiful lady apparently. Eventually Nick persuaded her to tell him her troubles.”
“I can imagine,” Cat said darkly.
“The lady made Nick swear to tell no-one—”
“No-one except you, me, Nettie and the town crier!” Cat saw Chance’s face. “Sorry,” she said humbly. “Finish your story.”
“It seems the beautiful lady is in love with a Spaniard, a very handsome one. But because of the political climate at court, they cannot be seen speaking together.”
Cat’s eyes widened. “How sad! And how silly!!”
“Isn’t it?” said Chance eagerly. “But Nick has thought of a plan to help her. Not only that, he says it’s an opportunity for me to earn a great deal of money. There’s no risk. He says I’d just be the go-between.”
Cat flung up her hands. “And you believed him?”
We had reached a green space between the houses, where a maypole was decorated with spring flowers and coloured ribbons. Some young people were doing a skippy-type country dance to the sound of flutes and fiddles.
“It’s true!” I heard Chance say. “I’d be playing Cupid and making money at the same time. Money for us, Cat,” he coaxed. “So we can be married!”
“People got married really young in these days,” I explained to Lola, who was looking v. shocked. “Weird I know,” I added. “I mean she’s just a teenager, right? Why limit yourself?”
“You haven’t seen Nick for months,” Cat was saying earnestly. “Now suddenly he wants to help you. How do you know there’s no risk? How do you know he doesn’t wish you harm?”
Chance laughed. “Because he’s my friend.”
Cat opened her mouth, “But—”
“No buts, Catherine Darcy,” he said firmly. “It’s May Day, the sun is shining and I intend to dance with the most beautiful girl in London.”
And he swept her off to join the dancers.
Lola shrugged. “I don’t know what we were worrying about. We must have been suffering from time-travel fatigue or something. They seem fine to me.”
“I’m not sure about this scheme of Nick’s,” said Reuben doubtfully. “Wasn’t he going to university? I think he’s my human this time, so—”
“Oh, who cares?” said Lola. “He’s doing well for himself. Now he’s trying to help an old friend.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts!” she teased him. “It’s May Day, the sun is shining and I intend to dance with the most beautiful Sweetpea in London!” And she danced away with him, giggling.
I watched the dancers dreamily, noticing that each time Cat and Chance met and linked arms, they smiled into each other’s eyes, before whirling away in opposite directions. It kind of reminded me of how I feel with Orlando sometimes.
I came out of my thoughts with a jolt. Someone was standing beside me, a good-looking young man with a rose in his cap. Though I’d have probably recognised Nick without the rose, from his faintly superior smile.
He’d become incredibly stylish since the last time I’d seen him - slashed sleeves, gorgeous shoes, and I had a suspicion that the gold pomander hanging from his belt was studded with actual jewels.
Lola’s right, I thought. All those dreams and dire premonitions, they were purely in my head!
There was a burst of clapping as Cat and Chance swung each other energetically between two rows of their fellow dancers.
I was watching Nick eagerly, waiting for him to recognise his old friends, so I saw the exact moment when his face changed.
His eyes went totally cold. Then he stepped forward, laughing, as they went hurtling past. And it was like nothing had ever happened.
Only I knew it had. Nick might look the same, but I’d glimpsed a chilling stranger underneath. The danger in my dreams was real.
Reuben ran up, followed by Lola. “According to my watch, Nick’s around here somewhere,” he said breathlessly.
“Yeah,” I said. “He is.”
Lola caught sight of him. “Woo!” she said. “He must be doing really well!”
It suddenly struck me that Reuben was looking feverish. His eyes were too bright and his face was much too pale.
“Are you quite sure you’re OK?” I asked him anxiously.
“Let’s make a deal,” he snapped. “When I’m not, you’ll be the first person I tell.”
Nick, Cat and Chance went off to a nearby tavern, with us following behind as close as shadows. They sat outside in the sunshine and Nick ordered ale and some kind of game pie.
“Now we can catch up on each other’s news,” he beamed. But before Cat and Chance could ever open their mouths, Nick launched into this juicy scandal involving all these major court celebrities.
“And you must come and visit me in my new rooms,” he said. “They are really very fine, as different to my old place as night from day.”
“I liked your old place,” Cat said quietly.
How is he paying for this? I thought. His family isn’t that rich. I didn’t get the impression Nick actually worked for his living. Not in those sleeves.
I think Nick must have noticed that Cat wasn’t as impressed as he’d hoped, because he suddenly said, “And how is life treating my lovely Catherine?”
“Very well,” she said promptly and she totally couldn’t prevent herself smiling at Chance. “But I don’t know any lords and ladies, so I have no interesting news to tell.”
Then her face lit up. “Oh, but I’ve heard my father will soon be home from sea! I wonder if he’ll recognise me,” she added anxiously. “He’s been away so long.”
“And you, Chance?” said Nick. “How are you liking the theatrical life?”
“Very much
,” said Chance eagerly. “I never know what I’ll be doing from one day to the next. One moment I’m helping actors learn their lines, the next taking care of the properties.”
“What are properties, exactly?” said Nick in a bored tone.
“Almost anything! For instance, if the heroine dies tragically of snake bite, I must make sure the snake is to hand!”
“Oh,” said Nick. “A real dogsbody.”
Cat looked annoyed. “He will be an actor one day. Only last month, he took the part of the fool, when Will Kemp had the fever.”
Nick pulled a face. “The fool!” he snorted. “Well, he’s certainly had plenty of practice.”
The entire angel contingent was squirming. It was like everything Nick said was designed to make Chance look like a total loser, compared to him.
“Chance, I must introduce you to this new friend of mine,” Nick said loftily. “He could get you work as an actor tomorrow if I asked him. You don’t need to do all this ridiculous fetching and carrying.”
Chance suddenly seemed distracted. He’d spotted a young actor from the playhouse. “I’ve just got to ask Kit something,” he mumbled. I got the feeling Kit owed him money.
Cat looked distinctly dismayed at the idea of being alone with Nick. She knew he’d try to chat her up. Didn’t take him long either.
“Ah, Cat,” he sighed, giving her his devastating smile. “When I think how you cared for me once.”
“I did, when I was a little girl,” Cat said pointedly. “But I am grown up now, so I prefer a man who is not afraid of his own heart.”
Nick looked scornful. “They say that love is blind. But how you can prefer this nobody—”
“Chance is not nobody!” she blazed.
“He doesn’t even know his own name!” Nick sneered. “What do you call someone with neither wealth, power or influence?”
“I’m talking about hearts, Nick! And his heart is like a twin to mine.”
“Ah, I see! You are twin souls!” His voice was mocking.
“Yes. We are!” Cat calmly held Nick’s gaze, coolly letting him know that his attempt to put Chance down had basically boomeranged.
