I went to respond with a sarcastic yes, but stopped myself when I remembered that the Mad Hatter might actually do it.
‘Erm, no! I’ll be up in a minute!’ I shouted as the lighter burnt my thumb and I dropped it.
As I climbed up in the dark, I wondered how I was going to explain to Vera why an old man answered my call, but by the time I got to the top, the phone was lying on the ground, and the old man and Frankie were sharing a cigarette and sniggering. They looked like guilty kids.
‘Sorry, Missy, ya mum hung up. She got very uppity ’bout me answering your walkie-talkie, so I explained that you were indisposed and were having to go in the bushes!’
Shaking my head, I picked up my phone and wiped away the mud before checking that there was no one waiting on the line. If it had been my father I would have been upset, but as it must have been Vera, I was actually rather glad that they had been so rude.
‘You said Marj called,’ I said.
‘Who’s Marj?’ asked the Mad Hatter. ‘I said Missy.’
‘No, I distinctly heard you say Marj—Marj was my mum’s name. My real mum, but was she calling or were you calling me Marj?’
‘It was your mum, and I said Missy,’ he spat.
This conversation was going nowhere. I looked at my watch and realised that I had only half an hour till lunch. I guess my packing earlier had taken longer than I’d thought. Absentmindedly, I noticed my hands were covered in damp, brown rust.
‘I have to go, guys. It must have been my evil stepmum who called, so you will have only wound her up more!’
‘Oh, she said she was your mum?’ The Mad Hatter looked perplexed, as I donned my gloves.
‘That would be hard—she’s been dead ten years! Anyway, don’t go down there without me, promise?’ At my instruction, Frankie’s eyes shifted away, and the Mad Hatter whistled, pretending to be even madder than he already was. ‘I mean it!’
‘Tell ya whats: we won’t go down as long as you speak no words to no one.’
‘Deal,’ I said, as I started running back along the path we had laid in the snow.
I looked back and watched the old man put his finger against his lips as if to say ‘Shh’ again. Don’t worry: I will not speak of this or Bouncing Pond, I thought. No one would believe me anyway; they would all think I’m as mad as the man who takes calls for me from my dead mum or calls me by her name!
***
Taking off my hat, gloves, coat, and boots, I could hear voices in the dining room and the sound of laughter. I headed towards the door but heard footsteps running after me.
‘You can’t go in like that, Miss Vicky,’ said an out-of-breath Jane. ‘Come on.’
She led me into the cloakroom, scrubbed my hands like I was a child and ran her fingers through my hair like a comb to tidy it. Looking in the mirror, I could see that my tights had rust all down them, so I quickly took them off and handed them to her.
‘Well don’t just stand there; you’ll need to get rid of them—I can’t have Vera finding them and moaning to Dad!’ I smiled as I issued her orders, keen for her not to cry again.
She nodded and ran off to the domestics’ quarters, as I approached and pushed open the heavy drawing room door. I strode in, beaming.
‘Hello, Dad. So sorry I’m a bit late.’
‘Darling! You remember Uncle Josef, don’t you? This is his son, Andreas, and this,’ he said, pointing to a wizened old man in the corner, ‘is our esteemed colleague, Herr Dr Konrad Schmidt.’ I didn’t remember Uncle Josef, but I pretended that I did to please Dad. George, my friend in Charlie’s life’s surname was Schmidt and I wondered if they were related. I could hardly ask if he knew someone from 1911. Though, he did look old enough.
‘Hello, Uncle Josef, how nice to see you again!’ I shook his hand politely. He was about Dad’s age, balding, and wore thick, black-rimmed glasses like they wore in the 1960s. He winked at me, which disconcerted me, and I found myself wiping my hand on my skirt. I then turned to Andreas, tall and blond, who smiled at me disarmingly. I shook his hand too and tried not to blush. How could I have such a creepy looking uncle, but such a hot cousin? Finally, I turned to Herr Dr Konrad Schmidt.
‘How do you do, Herr Dr Schmidt,’ I said.
‘Konrad, please,’ he said, showing yellow teeth. He gripped my hand too tightly and appraised me, his eyes narrow and glittering. I tried to pull my hand away, but he would not release it. ‘What a lovely daughter you have, Milo,’ he said to my father, never taking his eyes from my face as I yanked my hand free.
I sat down, and a plate of lasagne with Brussels sprouts was put in front of me instantly. I looked around and could see that everyone else had already finished. I bit into an overcooked sprout as I stole a glance at Konrad. He had to be seriously old. He was almost skeletal, with his skin stretched like parchment across his face. It made my stomach turn, only I must have shown it as I could sense Vera staring at me disapprovingly.
‘I’m sorry my friend was so rude on the phone, Vera,’ I said, feeling that I should somehow apologise.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Vicky! By the way, did you know that Andreas is a helicopter pilot?’
‘Wow!’ I was genuinely impressed. ‘Did you fly here?’
‘No.’ He laughed. ‘I fly large military helicopters.’
‘You could have landed here, though,’ I said. ‘Helicopters have landed here before. Or you could have landed at Wisley Airfield—it’s only on the other side of the A3.’
Andreas looked surprised. ‘Is there an airfield so close?’
There was a moment’s silence. Uncle Josef dabbed his mouth with his napkin. ‘You should forget you heard that, Andreas. Such information will not be useful to you.’
Everyone seemed fixated on his or her finished plates. Clearly I had said something inappropriate. ‘What’s the matter? Everyone knows about Wisley!’
‘Not everyone, Vicky,’ said Dad, embarrassed.
Several seconds passed.
‘Andreas is serving in Afghanistan at the moment,’ Josef then said.
‘That must be exciting for you,’ I said politely, wishing I could impress him and think of something witty or smart.
‘Of course. Also dangerous. I have already been shot down.’ My eyes widened as I reappraised him, taking in his broad shoulders and chiselled jaw.
‘The boy’s a fool,’ said Konrad, pushing his empty plate away. ‘If he wants to die out there, undiscovered in pieces, spread for aeons over the sands of the desert, then let him. I merely wish to protect the secrets that help keep us all safe.’ He waved his hand about disparagingly. ‘As long as he insists on serving on the front line, we will have to protect him from knowing too much.’
I was at once acutely conscious of Andreas’ breathing as I felt him tense up beside me.
‘Sherry trifle?’ asked Vera as the domestics placed bowls of trifle in front of the rest of the guests.
‘So that is why you blindfolded me, just so we could come for lunch at an old asylum?’
‘What do you think, Vicky?’ Konrad looked at me pointedly, as did the others.
They all stared at me. The lasagne turned to cardboard in my mouth, and I struggled to swallow it.
‘What do I think about the lasagne or trifle, or that I’ve just learnt that my home used to be an asylum?’
‘About Andreas risking his life, needlessly?’ Uncle Josef enquired.
My half-eaten lasagne and slushy sprouts were replaced at last by pudding.
‘He could die!’ cackled Konrad, spittle forming at the side of his mouth. He laughed as though he had cracked some hilarious joke. Dad looked uneasy, while Vera smiled, too stupid to understand what was going on. Not that I understood, I just sensed that there was some hidden meaning to all this that I was not privy to. ‘You think there’s life after death?’ he asked, turning to me.
I cleared my throat. ‘That’s a big topic. To be honest, I don’t tend to think about it much.’
‘She’s only sixteen, Josef. Sixteen year olds don’t think about dying.’
‘No,’ glowered Konrad, suddenly morose. ‘They consider themselves immortal.’
Suddenly the trifles all jumped as Andreas thumped the table.
‘For fuck’s sake!’ he yelped before storming out.
The conversation had been intense, but Andreas was so hot when he was angry that I was quite unable to finish my pudding. Thankfully Jane and Mrs Blake walked in with pots of tea and left with my half-eaten desert. I could not help but notice that Konrad looked quite shaken by Andreas’ outburst. I lent forward.
‘So I hear you are over here discussing smallpox?’
‘Josef is giving a paper outlining the benefits of keeping smallpox and similar diseases for our own protection,’ explained my father. ‘Konrad has simply accompanied him.’
‘But Josef does what you say, doesn’t he?’ I interjected, bored of these old men and their excuses. I stared into Konrad’s aged eyes. They looked half-dead already.
‘He listens to me, yes.’
‘Then tell him to destroy it. Wipe it out, it’s not right!’
‘I wish I thought the same,’ Konrad proclaimed.
I rose from the table and left in silence, closing the door behind me with such relief. The hallway was always a little too dark, so it took a moment for my eyes to adjust as I spied Jane rummaging nervously with the coats. She looked straight at me, grinned and came over with my coat, opening it for me to put it on.
‘I’m not cold, you know,’ I said, frowning.
‘I know, Miss, it’s just that the young man, he went outside. Thought you might care to join him?’ Jane beamed in response.
Unable to think of anything to say back, I let her help me with my coat and ran outside. I walked around the house, noticing that my phone felt nice and warm inside my pocket, until I spotted Andreas on a bench, looking out over the grounds. Taking a seat beside him, I took my phone out.
‘Impressive tech you have there,’ said Andreas, lighting at a cigarette.
I looked at him curiously. ‘It’s a great hand warmer’ I said.
‘Well that is a seriously cool hand warmer,’ he said, shaking the match to extinguish it. ‘Who did you just call?’
‘No one, why?’
He laughed. ‘You don’t have to tell me, I’m sure you have many boyfriends!’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I really haven’t made a call.’
‘Well someone has, or you’ve been playing with it—look, all the buttons are lit. They stay on for five minutes, take a look at your call history?’
He was right.
‘According to this I made a call four minutes ago...it must have been Jane.’
‘Let’s see.’ He took the phone from me and then went so deathly pale, that I thought he was going to expire right there, on that bench. No need for Afghanistan and a warzone! After pressing a few buttons, he handed it back. I looked down, fiddling with the buttons. Soft, transparent plastic, lit green from behind, with a firm click and a beep with each press. He was right: this was impressive tech.
‘I wonder who Jane was calling? I think you’ve deleted the number.’ The screen now reported that the last call was incoming and came from Deerden.
‘Oh, I’m sorry—I’m renowned for messing up computers!’ Andreas’ laugh was unusually high pitched, and I suddenly sensed he was trembling.
‘Remind me to never step into a helicopter with you, then.’
‘The engines don’t need computers, only the missiles and if we need those we’re having quite a ride...’
There was an awkward silence. I said the first thing I could think of to break it.
‘So, are we really cousins?’ The train of my thoughts must have been so obvious, that I might as well have stripped there and then! I could feel the part of me that was forever Charlie rolling his eyes.
‘Kind of.’
‘Why haven’t we met before?’ I asked, intrigued.
‘We have. You were very young. It was at your mum’s funeral.’
I stopped myself giggling and saying I would have remembered, but then I recognised his blushing cheeks. ‘Wait, how old were you?’
‘I was only eleven—I imagine I’ve changed.’
Now I came to think of it, I did remember a boy who was a complete crybaby, red faced throughout. I hadn’t forgotten this, because his grief seemed too much. She was my mum, and I didn’t even know who he was! No point teasing him about it now, though, in fact that would be inappropriate as hell.
‘So you remember my mum, then?’
‘Oh yes, and Vera too—both so stunning.’
‘Really? You don’t look that old.’ I was shocked at what he had just said. ‘Vera’s an old hag!’
He looked like a rabbit caught in the Bentley’s headlights on full beam. I wasn’t trying to be rude and couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he liked her in that way. She was old enough to be his mother.
‘Yes, yes, I guess she is now, but at least she’s not properly old and decrepit like Konrad.’
‘He is creepy, isn’t he?’ I said. ‘What does he actually do? Does he work with your father?’
‘They go way back. I don’t know if you know this, but your father left to escape Konrad. Konrad was a lecturer and used to teach your father. Apparently he used a device in his lectures for examining the students. They would press buttons and if the answer was wrong, it would give them an electric shock. With each wrong answer, the intensity would increase.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Do you really have no idea?’
‘Well, that explains a few things,’ I said, thinking of the servant bell-panel.
He looked at me searchingly, and I felt my face redden. I had stopped listening, mesmerised by his lips and wondering what they might feel like on my own. We sat in silence. He was about to say something else when Vera appeared on the terrace.
‘Vicky! It’s time to come in and get changed.’
I stood up, the weight of unsaid things and further questions heavy between us. ‘Sorry, I have to go.’
He rose also. ‘Sure. Maybe you could give me your number?’
‘Oh really? No one’s asked for my number before!’ I smiled at him, very conscious that Vera was standing right beside us. ‘Good luck back in Afghanistan. Don’t get shot down again...or better still, change posting so you can arrive next time without a blindfold, maybe land on the lawn!’
Before the hour passed, I was back downstairs and ready to say my goodbyes. I could hear my father in the lounge. He was getting louder, after no doubt quite a few Negronis. I went in to shake hands with my peculiar Austrian family, including Andreas, and gave my father the tightest of hugs. As I ran back out, I was holding back tears. I missed him so much when I was away at school, and I truly don’t think he had any idea.
Tom was already in the car and Jane was waiting next to Mrs Blake. I hugged Mrs Blake and shook Jane’s hand. I could see that she looked shocked, but her mouth twitched slightly as she felt a small piece of paper discreetly passed between us. I was sure that she would know what to do with it, when she read it later. She could hardly not know what to do with a note that read: FAO Andreas followed by a series of numbers, starting zero-seven.
The safety of Deerden would soon be replaced by the loneliness of school, but at least the Bentley ride was like taking a little piece of home away with me. To my surprise, we stopped just before we got to the road, and the Mad Hatter appeared.
‘Do you mind if he comes for a spin?’ asked Tom. ‘Look, he’s smartened himself up for the occasion.’
I grinned. He had indeed put on some clean clothes and even wore a jacket. He looked utterly different and could have passed for respectable, as long as he managed not to open his mouth.
‘Come on in, Mr Blake,’ I called. ‘You do l
ook smart.’ He settled himself down in the passenger seat.
‘Do you mind if we go on the back roads, Miss Vicky?’ asked Tom. ‘That way we can avoid the checkpoints on the motorway. My dad’s not too keen on them, if you know what I mean.’
‘Sure. I’m fine with anything that delays school!’
I’d never quite known what the Mad Hatter had done when he was younger, as he was always full of such fantastical stories, most of which had to have been made up. But I guessed there was something in his past that made him want to avoid the authorities now. I had no problem with that.
‘Guess who I sat next to at lunch, Mr Blake? A helicopter pilot! He’s serving in Afghanistan.’
The Mad Hatter turned to face me. ‘Ah! I was there myself in 1919.’
‘Don’t talk nonsense, Dad; you’re not old enough.’
‘You don’t know nothing, Tom,’ quavered the old man indignantly. ‘It’s true; I was a nipper, only thirteen. I’d ran off to the army, you see.’
By my calculations, the Mad Hatter had to be ninety now. I knew he was old, but that was ancient.
‘How come you were in the army at thirteen, Mr Blake? Surely they wouldn’t have accepted you?’
‘I lied, sees, and they were desperate. Found myself on a train once, and them Afghanis would ride along beside, all silent like, in the middle of the night, and creep in and cut our throats in our cots.’
‘Don’t listen to him, Miss Vicky. He gets himself in a muddle. Probably read it in a book somewhere and now thinks it happened to him.’
I felt sorry for him; it must be awful not to be believed. The Mad Hatter twittered on.
‘So the commander ordered soldiers to be posted on the rooftops, but in the morning, all the guards on top were dead. Shot by bullets made from rocks, fired from old Lee Enfields at night. Them Afghanis, they’re a warrior race all right. In the end we used planes to scare them off, but it was only temporary. Couldn’t beat ’em then, and we won’t beat ’em now!’
‘Talking of planes, what do you know about Wisley Airfield, Tom? Everyone got upset when I mentioned it earlier.’
‘Probably best not to mention it to people outside the house,’ he replied.
Paralysis Paradox (Time Travel Through Past Lives Adventure Series Book 1) Page 5
