A Trail Through Time (The Chronicles of St Mary's)

by Jodi Taylor

He disposed of the empty syringe and sat back.

  ‘I’ll get you some water.’

  ‘I’m not thirsty.’

  ‘You must drink. Just sip it.’

  I did as I was told. A bit of a first, but I really didn’t feel that good.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’

  No, actually, I wouldn’t, but if I said so then he’d really start to worry, so I nodded. I would just forget to drink it.

  He brought it over and it was perfect. He’d remembered to get fresh lemons, so there were two slices of lemon, just the way I liked it. He sat down alongside and helped me hold the mug.

  ‘Just a sip.’

  I did try.

  ‘And another.’

  Apparently satisfied, he took the mug off me. I closed my eyes.

  ‘No. Don’t go to sleep.’

  He was right. Sleeping was a bad idea. I didn’t want those dreams again. Not with a witness, anyway.

  He’d turned the lights down very low. The pod was silent. Even the little background electronic noises had ceased.

  He took my one working hand and gently rubbed his thumb across my knuckles.

  ‘So who’s Bear?’

  Oh, shit. I’d been talking about Bear.

  I said nothing for a long time. He didn’t repeat the question, but it didn’t go away, either.

  So who was Bear?

  I wondered how much he knew. Wondered if my past life here was the same as my past life there. With my luck, it would be worse.

  I don’t know if it was the infection floating around my system, the fever, the knowledge I might be dying, or a combination of all of these. It might even be that something in my head decided, after years of silence, it was time to tell the story of Bear.

  I spoke into the cold darkness.

  ‘I’d always had Bear. I don’t know where he came from or who gave him to me, but I’d always had him. And no, he wasn’t the traditional teddy, all grubby, with bare patches and one eye missing. I looked after him. He was my best friend. We had adventures together. We flew to the moon and found it was made of cheese. We rode the waves with the mermaids. We lived in imaginary kingdoms.’ I stopped suddenly. ‘I … loved my Bear.’

  There was no sound in the darkness.

  When I could, I continued.

  ‘On my ninth birthday, we had a party. Afterwards, I was in my room, about to get ready for bed and telling Bear all about it.’

  I paused again.

  ‘My mother wouldn’t let me wear my Captain Spaceman pyjamas. She laid out a long white nightie. It was very pretty, with flowers and birds embroidered all over. I preferred Captain Spaceman, but I didn’t argue. She said I’d like it. She said I looked like a princess. And Bear said I looked like a princess, too. She combed my hair and tied it up in long white ribbons. I asked her why and she said my father wanted to see me in his study and I should look pretty because it was my birthday. She spent ages getting the bows even. She said it was important. Even Bear got a white bow around his neck.

  ‘I was excited because I liked his study. He had a skeleton called William – and if I could name five bones, I won half a crown. Sometimes he would take down a book and show me pictures. He was teaching me to play chess. So I was pleased and excited. I picked up Bear and tucked him under my arm, she took my hand, and we walked down the stairs to his study. She wouldn’t let me wear slippers and the floors were cold.’

  I stopped. My heart was hammering away and I could feel the sweat running down my back. Just say it, Maxwell.

  ‘She opened the door. She didn’t look at me. She said, “In you go, then. He’s waiting for you.” Then she walked away.’

  I took two or three deep breaths, but it was too late to stop now.

  ‘I never saw Bear again.’

  Silence.

  ‘I don’t know what happened to him.’

  More silence.

  ‘He’s out there, somewhere. Lost in the dark. We both were. I never found him. No one helped me. My mother bought me another teddy and I threw it away. She kept telling me to stop crying because my father liked his little girl to smile, that I should always smile for him … because that’s what he liked … but I never would. I cried for my Bear and it made him angry. Everyone was angry with me. Just because I’d lost my Bear and wouldn’t smile …

  I broke off, because in the darkness, I heard a tiny crack.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Stupid mug,’ he said, lightly. ‘The handle just fell off.’

  ‘Did you hurt yourself?’

  ‘No.’

  We both sat in the darkness. Now what?

  I said quietly, ‘You’re angry too, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

  I sat silent in the darkness, regretting every word. Telling people things is never a good idea. A trouble shared is a trouble quadrupled.

  ‘But not with you, sweetheart. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry for you.’

  ‘You won’t tell anyone about …’

  ‘No. I’ll never tell anyone about … Bear.’

  ‘When I was little, I used to hope that someone nice had found him and that he was happy even if that meant he’d forgotten me. But that was OK, if he was happy. When I got older I realised that afterwards, my father had just picked him up off the floor and tossed him into the bin.’ I smiled in the dark. ‘I was a lot angrier and a lot less trusting by then.’

  ‘Are you angry now?’

  ‘No. Not usually. My teacher at school – you remember Mrs De Winter? – she showed me how to use it. To focus. She helped me to get to Thirsk University and then on to St Mary’s. Maybe losing Bear was the price I had to pay for a better life.’

  His voice was bitter in the darkness.

  ‘A better life? You’re lying in a broken pod in the middle of nowhere, pursued by people who will probably put you down like a dog.’

  ‘Hey, stop that. It could be worse.’

  ‘How? How could it possibly be worse?’

  ‘Well, I could be kneeling by your body, feeling my heart crack wide open and knowing I’ll never, ever see you again. I know that whatever happens to me, nothing – nothing – will ever be that bad again.’

  I stopped, exhausted.

  ‘Are you all right? Can I get you anything?’

  ‘I’m absolutely fine.’

  ‘You never complain, do you?’

  ‘Are you kidding? Deep down inside, it’s just one long, perpetual whinge.’

  ‘It really will be OK. I promise you we’ll get out of this.’

  I patted his hand. ‘I know. Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘But I do.’

  ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘I should look after you better.’

  ‘I look after myself.’

  ‘Yeah? How’s that working out for you at the moment?’

  ‘Work in progress.’

  I could feel waves of heat rising. In a minute or so, I’d be off in my own world again. I shifted slightly and was aware I was drenched in sweat.

  I felt him stand up. A click and the lights came on. Well, one light. We were still conserving power.

  He sat at the console and began to fire things up.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Taking you somewhere safe.’

  ‘There is nowhere safe. Not while I’ve still got this stupid thing in my arm.’

  ‘I’ve had an idea.’

  ‘You’re not going to chop it off, are you? I’m prepared to take one for the team, but that’s a bit above and beyond the call …’

  ‘No, I’m not going to chop your arm off. You are not the only one around here who has brilliant ideas. Now, it’s my turn.’

  I said, doubtfully, ‘You’ve had a brilliant idea?’

  ‘Yes. You’re not the only one. I can do it, too.’

  ‘Really? I thought you worked in the Technical section.’

  ‘We have more than our fair share. Shut up and listen. I’m going to take
you back to St Mary’s.’

  I struggled to sit up. ‘No.’

  ‘I’m taking you back for medical treatment. You might die if I do, but you’ll certainly die if I don’t.’

  ‘And that’s your brilliant idea? There’s no point. They’ll know where we are as soon as you open the door.’

  ‘No, my brilliant idea is that we land inside the big transport pod – TB2.’

  ‘Why?’

  He sighed. ‘I’ll keep it simple for the History department. I land inside TB2 and exit this pod, closing the door behind me. I am now inside TB2 and can open that door because this pod door is shut. It will be like an airlock. So long as one door is always closed, the Time Police won’t be able to track you. I get Helen to remove your tag – properly, this time. I’ll take the tag and drop it inside the volcano as discussed. They’ll think you perished in the eruption as we planned. We’ll both be free and clear. Now, hush. I have to do this manually. Let the master work.’

  I snorted and then found I did want the rest of my tea after all.

  The intended discreet touchdown at St Mary’s went about as well as everything else had up until now. He’d done his best, but he hadn’t got it quite right, and we materialised about a foot off the ground, dropping with a bone juddering crash onto the floor of the big transport pod, TB2.

  A sympathetic and supportive companion, aware of what a cracking job he’d done under difficult circumstances, and of how tired and stressed he was, would have chirped reassuringly from her nest of blankets and then kept her mouth shut.

  ‘Am I the only person in this unit who can land a bloody pod properly?’

  He was shutting things down. ‘Are we on fire? Have we cartwheeled across the hangar? Are we upside down? No. By your standards, that was a perfect touchdown. How’s the arm?’

  ‘Fine. What now?’

  ‘Well, at least I won’t have to go and look for Dieter. Half of St Mary’s will be outside by now.’

  With sudden anxiety, I said, ‘Take care, Leon. The Time Police might still be here.’

  ‘I’ll turn the screen so you can see what’s going on. Back in a minute. Do not open that door.’

  He disappeared. And reappeared.

  ‘Don’t say anything. To anyone. You’re too sick to speak – understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He sighed in exasperation. ‘What did I just say?’

  ‘How should I know? I wasn’t listening.’

  He disappeared again.

  TB2 was our big pod. Designed to carry large numbers of people or specialised equipment, it was easily able to accommodate one small pod. There was enough light to enable me to make him out. I watched him walk to the doors. He looked back once, to check the pod door was still closed, let down the ramp, and disappeared. The ramp came up again and I was on my own.

  Our pod was suddenly very empty.

  I lay for what seemed like a very long time with no clue as to what was happening out there. Had he been arrested? Had the Time Police pounced as soon as he exited TB2?

  ‘No,’ said a rarely heard voice of reason. ‘Otherwise they’d have been in here and shot you by now.’

  True.

  I didn’t dare take my eyes off the screen. I could feel waves of hot, dark pain washing over me and I knew that, in a few minutes, I’d be walking in shadows again, and I couldn’t afford that. I had to stay alert. I stared at the screen as if my life depended up it, which it might, and tried not to worry. I concentrated on lying still because the least movement sent ripples of red-hot pain surging up my arm.

  Come on, Leon.

  I felt sweat run down my back. My scalp prickled with it. I was drenched again. I jerked open my eyes.

  Come on, Leon.

  I swear I never took my eyes off the screen, but suddenly, the pod was full of people.

  I saw Dr Foster. She had short hair. It suited her. I saw Nurse Hunter, a little plumper than the one I remembered, but she still smelled of baby powder. I had forgotten that. Dieter was there, as well, big and blond, arms folded, guarding the door.

  Outside in TB2, two other medics were setting up some sort of temporary hospital area. I looked at Leon. I couldn’t leave. Had he forgotten?

  No, of course he hadn’t.

  Hunter began to unpack her kit. Helen knelt beside me. ‘My name is Dr Foster. I’m just going to take a look.’

  I flinched. I couldn’t help it.

  She carefully folded back the blanket. The dressing fell off by itself and we all stared at my arm.

  No one spoke.

  Helen broke the spell.

  She smiled reassuringly at me. She was being kind. Now I knew I was in another world. Or dying. ‘It’s a bit of a mess, but we’ll get it cleaned up and make you feel more comfortable.’

  I’d never heard her speak so quietly. She seemed very … restrained.

  She turned to Hunter, issuing instructions, still in the same level tones. I searched for Leon, who stood nearby.

  She stood up stiffly and moved towards Leon who drew closer to listen.

  She belted him. She fetched him a wallop that I myself would have been proud of. He actually staggered.

  ‘Ow!’

  She hit him again.

  I tried to lift my head.

  She was incandescent. She was absolutely furious. For one moment, she seemed to struggle for words. But only for a moment.

  ‘You imbecile! You cretinous, moronic imbecile! Of all the idiotic, half-witted, brainless, irresponsible … I used to think that apart from me, you were the only person in this entire establishment who had more than one brain cell. What the hell did you think you were playing at? Let me make it simple. I’m the doctor. You’re the engineer. I’m the one with all the years at medical school. You’re not. Do I ever swan down here to Hawking, rip the front off a console, and go at it with a 5lb lump hammer and a bent paperclip?’

  Wisely, he made no attempt to reply, but she swept on, regardless.

  ‘No – I do not. Because I don’t know the first thing about electronics and you don’t know the first thing about medicine. Do you? Did you seriously think you could get away with surgery in this … this …?’ She waved an arm. ‘Look at the state of this pod. This place is Ground Zero for every infection in the universe. Did you think you could pick up a copy of Surgery for Dummies and blindly undertake what amounted to a major procedure? How stupid are you? Look what you’ve done. A tag is the size of a grain of rice, for God’s sake. Was it really necessary to open her arm from elbow to wrist?’

  She had to stop for breath.

  ‘I couldn’t find it,’ he said, defensively, keeping his distance.

  There was the same sort of pause you get before a major volcanic event. And I should know.

  She struggled for calm, speaking with a restraint that was terrifying.

  ‘Of course you couldn’t bloody find it! Because it’s not bloody there! You operated on the wrong bloody arm!’

  Her word reverberated round the tiny space. I made a huge effort, but there was no chance. Laughter bubbled inside me, as unstoppable as a greased elephant on a helter-skelter. I curled into a ball and couldn’t stop. It was so funny. His face. Her face. All that effort. All that pain. All that blood. And it was the wrong bloody arm!

  I was still laughing uncontrollably when something cold slid into the back of my hand.

  I awoke some time later, blinked a little and looked around me. I lay in a little pool of light. An oasis in the dark, echoing space that was TB2. As far as I could see, I was alone. I couldn’t see either Leon or his pod, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here somewhere. I hoped.

  My right arm was hugely bandaged and resting on a pillow. The other arm had a tiny red mark on the inside, just below my elbow. I could barely see it. Actually, I could barely see anything. I floated, warm and comfortable on a pink, fluffy cloud of peace and security. There was no pain. This was more like it. Things were looking up. The complete absence of any sort of threat was
a very welcome change.

  There was also a complete absence of Leon. I had no idea what time it was. Or what day it was. Or even what year it was. Where was he? Surely it wouldn’t take that long to make the return jump to Pompeii, open the door, toss out a successfully removed tag, and jump back again. Minutes? Seconds? He must be here, somewhere.

  Hard on that thought, I heard the ramp coming down. He was back.

  I was quite unprepared for the great wave of – something – that left me breathless. I heard Dr Foster say, ‘Just a few minutes,’ and then he stepped into my little pool of light.

  At some point, he’d had a shower, shit, and shave, and picked up some clean clothes, so he looked reasonably presentable. And exhausted.

  We stared at each other. I remembered my instructions and didn’t say a word. Which was good, because I couldn’t think of anything to say, anyway. I tried to smile, but it was a very poor effort. His was even worse.

  He turned abruptly, wandering aimlessly around the pod before finally fetching up at the foot of my bed, picking up Helen’s scratchpad and pretending to read her notes.

  Finally, he said, still not looking at me, ‘I thought I’d lost you. Again.’

  I said nothing.

  ‘Helen says you’ll be up and about soon. At the moment, you’re stuffed full of some very serious medication.’

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me.

  He finally looked up. I noticed his burns were healing. At some point Helen had renewed his plastic.

  ‘The tag is gone. As is Pompeii. Dieter and I patched my pod as best we could, and I jumped back. There were bodies everywhere. The heat was unbearable. The mountain was still belching muck into the atmosphere. I threw the tag out into the street and it was covered almost immediately. I don’t know if the Time Police were still there. I don’t know if they would have been able to pick up the signal, but your plan will still hold. They tracked you there. They saw you there. There was a violent explosion. Your signal was gone. Whether they believe you’re dead or not, they can’t track you any longer. No one knows you’re here but the medical staff, Dieter, and Dr Bairstow. You have your life back.’

  Yes, I did. And what was I going to do with it?

  I held out the one hand that still worked and he came and sat on the bed. It was nice to have him so close again.