The Time Spell Read online

  ‘But –’

  Then I remembered something else from the film. ‘And don’t worry about taking someone else’s place in a lifeboat. Lots of the boats will be launched when they’re only half full. So if you don’t jump in, no one else will either – and imagine what a waste that would be.’

  Mary’s face had turned even paler than usual.

  ‘You’re frightening me, Lauren,’ she said.

  I tried to smile, but failed. This sooo wasn’t a time for smiles.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mary,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry I have to frighten you, and I’m sorry that I’ve made you think that I’m crazy.’

  Mary didn’t deny thinking I was crazy, and that made me sad, but I continued to speak.

  ‘But please, Mary, promise me that you’ll do what I say.’

  ‘You’re telling me to save Mammy and Baba and myself? What about Magda and her parents, and Aggie, and …’

  I should have known that Mary wouldn’t forget all of her new friends.

  ‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘Bring whoever you like, but promise me that you’ll go yourself.’

  Suddenly she looked stubborn. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘The ship isn’t going to sink and I won’t have to save anyone. I don’t know why you’re acting like this, since we’re supposed to be friends, but I think you’re just trying to scare me. Nothing bad is going to happen.’

  I sighed. This was turning out to be harder than I had feared. ‘If something happens, will you do as I say, Mary? Please?’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Only because we’re best friends.’

  I tried to smile. ‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘We’re best friends.’

  As I turned away, she caught my arm.

  ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘You gave me a present, so I have to give you one.’

  She unfastened a blue ribbon from round her neck. On it hung a small silver-coloured disc.

  She held it towards me. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘You can have my holy medal.’

  I shook my head. ‘No way. I’m not taking your holy medal.’

  If you’re ever going to need a holy medal, it’s going to be tomorrow night.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘My mother has lots more. All of our friends gave them to us, to bring us happiness in our new lives in America.’

  Then she put her hands round my neck and tied the ribbon.

  I hugged her again. ‘Friends forever,’ I said.

  ‘Friends forever,’ she repeated, and then I pulled away and ran as fast I could towards the linen cupboard.

  I opened the cupboard door and slipped inside.

  ‘Passengers aren’t allowed in here.’

  It was a girl who didn’t look much older than me. There was another girl beside her and they were busy folding sheets. Both girls were dressed in blue uniforms.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered, as I backed out the way I had come.

  I stood in the corridor for ages, waiting for them to finish. I could hear the girls laughing as they worked, telling each other stories about their boyfriends.

  I was gripped with a sudden sense of panic.

  What if Saturn was gone? What if he’d gone back to the future without me?

  And still the girls chattered on. ‘Jimmy’s such a rogue,’ said one. ‘I said to him, “What kind of a fool do you take me for?” And he said, “A very pretty fool.” And I said, “How dare you?” And then he kissed me.’

  They both laughed.

  Very funny, but I can’t hang around here forever, I’ve got to try and persuade my cat to take me time-travelling.

  At last the cupboard door opened again. I peeped round a corner and watched the girls strolling down the corridor. Then I raced through the cupboard and up on to the First-Class decks.

  It was dark and cold outside. I breathed deeply, wondering if it was possible to smell ice. I felt scared and alone. This whole thing was much, much too scary for a twelve-year-old.

  Saturn was sitting exactly where I had left him, inside lifeboat number seven. I climbed up, pulled the heavy covering aside and sat next to him. The blue and green stones on his collar sparkled in the light from the deck.

  He sniffed my fingers.

  ‘No, Saturn,’ I said firmly. ‘I didn’t bring any food. Food would be a distraction. I need you to concentrate on taking me back to where I belong in time.’

  There was no way my life’s plan had ever included any of this. For some reason, I would never have imagined myself sitting on the Titanic, talking to a strange, hairy, white cat, trying to persuade it to take me home.

  But nothing of what had happened lately had been part of my life’s plan, and if begging a cat to help me was all I could think of doing – well, that’s what I was going to do.

  Unfortunately Saturn didn’t seem interested. He just kept sniffing my pockets in a vain search for food.

  ‘No food,’ I said sharply.

  Saturn gazed at me with his superior look.

  ‘Remember me? I’m Lauren. I’m the girl who took you in when Betsy abandoned you. You owe me. You –’ I began, before stopping suddenly. I could hear footsteps and two male voices. The footsteps stopped right underneath the lifeboat.

  ‘Did you hear a noise from that lifeboat?’ asked one of the voices.

  ‘I think perhaps I did,’ replied the other.

  I held my breath and glared at Saturn. This soooo wasn’t the time for one of his loud miaows.

  Then one of the men gave a deep chuckle. ‘It’s probably just two young sweethearts. We should leave them in peace.’

  The other man sighed. ‘Oh, to be young again.’

  Both men laughed and then the footsteps began again, before fading slowly into the distance.

  I glared at Saturn. Two young sweethearts – ha! I felt like strangling him for getting me into this mess.

  Then I felt sorry for that thought. I loved Saturn more than I had loved any pet ever. And whatever this whole time-travel thing was about, it was hardly his fault.

  And surely, if Saturn had a choice in the matter, he’d prefer to be lying in the sunshine in our back garden, looking forward to a big meal of his favourite special food.

  So I picked Saturn up and cuddled him for a long time as I tried to figure out what to do next.

  An icy breeze was blowing. I thought longingly of my warm fleece. I hoped it was already wrapped in tissue paper in Mikey’s attic, waiting for his first little girl to come along.

  Saturn seemed to be dozing off, so I shook him gently.

  ‘Wake up!’ I said. ‘Don’t you understand? We’re in the wrong time. We don’t belong here, you and me. We belong in the future. You know – the place with computers and TVs and fancy dried cat food.’

  Saturn seemed unimpressed, but I had to keep trying.

  ‘Please, Saturn,’ I said. ‘This ship is called the Titanic. You were curled up in Tilly’s arms the last time we watched the DVD. Weren’t you paying any attention at all? This ship is going to sink! Remember how all the people clung on until the last minute? Remember the huge scary drop down to the water? I’m afraid of heights and you hate water. It’s going to be both of our worst nightmares come true.’

  Saturn blinked once.

  ‘I don’t really understand what’s going on,’ I said. ‘I’ve no idea how I got here, but I know it’s got something to do with you. You made strange things happen when you were living with Betsy, and you probably did the same to the poor man who owned you before Betsy came along. So now, you’re the one who has to get us out of here. There isn’t a Plan B. This is it. You’re my only hope.’

  Saturn just stared at me with his shiny green and blue eyes.

  I started to cry. ‘I miss Mum and Dad, and Tilly,’ I wailed. ‘I even miss Amy and Stephen. I miss my life. I’m afraid and I want to go home.’

  Tears poured down my face and dripped on to Sa
turn’s fur. He licked them off, seeming surprised at their salty taste.

  ‘You’d better get used to it,’ I said bitterly. ‘Soon you’ll have lots and lots of salty water on your fur, and it’ll be too late then.’

  Saturn blinked.

  ‘And it’ll be worse for you,’ I said. ‘I might be able to stay in this lifeboat. It’s women and children first, but I bet there won’t be any room for cats – even beautiful designer ones like you.’

  Saturn gave a soft miaow. Then he snuggled deeper into my arms, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  ‘Thanks for nothing, pal,’ I muttered.

  I sat there, blinking in the icy wind. One of the stones from Saturn’s collar was pressing into my arm. I moved to make myself more comfortable and Saturn whimpered in his sleep. And then …

  ‘Lauren, stop being so lazy! Come in here and help me to tidy up the kitchen.’

  Mum?

  I was sitting on the living-room floor, with Saturn in my arms. But how could that be?

  I looked down and saw that Mikey’s mother’s dress was gone and I was wearing my old T-shirt and shorts.

  Upstairs I could hear Amy’s music still pounding away; from the study, I could hear Stephen shouting at the computer.

  Mum was standing in the doorway. ‘Don’t make me ask you a second time,’ she said.

  ‘Mum!’ I cried.

  I put Saturn on the carpet, jumped up and ran over to her. I threw my arms round her neck. Then I clung on like I never wanted to let go.

  Mum laughed. ‘It’s always nice to get hugs, but don’t you think this is a bit over the top?’

  I just squeezed her tighter. She was so solid and real and comforting that I never wanted to let her go.

  ‘Mum, I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I know you must have been worried, but it wasn’t my fault – honestly. It just happened. I think it was Saturn’s fault, but I don’t really understand how. And I’ve been so scared … and I’ve missed you and Dad so much … and I didn’t know how I was going to get out of there … and I was so afraid … and my phone wouldn’t work … and I know it’s been days and days … and … I don’t even care if you punish me … You can do whatever you like and I won’t mind … I’m just glad to be back.’

  Mum used both of her hands to untangle my arms from round her neck. She stared into my eyes and I was so happy to see her worried face that I thought I was going to cry.

  ‘Lauren, have you bumped your head or something?’

  ‘No. I was just sitting here brushing Saturn, when –’

  ‘It’s OK, darling,’ she whispered. ‘You must have dozed off for a minute and had a bad dream.’

  I know that in books and movies stuff like this always turns out to have been a dream. Once Tilly ended an essay by saying ‘and then I woke up’ and our teacher got really cross.

  ‘That’s a cop-out, Tilly,’ the teacher said. ‘You’d better think of a different ending, or else you’ll have to write a whole new story.’

  But that sooo wasn’t what had happened to me.

  ‘No, Mum,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t a dream. It really happened. I know it did. I met Mikey and then I met Mary, and they were real. They were as real as you are. I could talk to them and touch them, and we did loads of stuff together, for days and days and days. And then we were on the Titanic –’

  Mum raised one eyebrow. ‘The Titanic?’

  ‘Yes. I know it sounds crazy, but it wasn’t a dream.’

  Mum stroked my forehead. ‘I know, darling,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t a dream. It sounds more like a nightmare, but it’s over now. You’re safe here with me.’

  ‘No,’ I protested again. ‘It really happened. Saturn was with me.’

  Mum turned round and pointed to Saturn, who was sleeping peacefully.

  ‘I know it wasn’t a dream,’ I repeated.

  ‘I understand, Lauren,’ she said, smiling. She didn’t even bother trying to sound convincing. ‘But you have to remember, when you’re young, dreams can sometimes be very vivid. I think it’s something to do with hormones.’

  Usually when Mum mentions hormones, it ends up in a totally embarrassing conversation, but I wasn’t worried about that now. I just had to make her understand what had happened to me.

  ‘But I was gone for days and days,’ I said.

  I tried to count back, but I was too confused to do it properly. The past and the present kept getting mixed up.

  ‘It was two or three days or something like that,’ I said in the end.

  Mum looked at her watch. ‘You remember the chocolate cake I was making?’

  I nodded. It seemed like it had happened a very long time ago, but I could remember scraping the chocolatey mix from the side of the bowl – and Mum taking the bowl from me before I was finished with it.

  ‘Well,’ said Mum. ‘The cake went into the oven at quarter past three, and it’s half past now. It’s only been fifteen minutes since I saw you. That’s not a lot of time for adventures, is it?’

  ‘But …’

  Mum sighed. ‘Is this all an excuse so you don’t have to help me tidy the kitchen?’

  Tears came to my eyes at the injustice of it all.

  Mum hugged me again. ‘Dear me, Lauren,’ she said. ‘You are having a bad day. How about I ask Amy to help me in the kitchen?’

  I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to say any more.

  Mum smiled. ‘Now I have to go and check on the cake. You lie on the couch for a while, and when the cake is done, I’ll bring you in a big slice while it’s still lovely and warm. How does that sound?’

  It sounded a whole lot better than sitting on a cold, dark ship, waiting for the sickening sound of ice against steel.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said.

  I was still in the living room when Tilly called over later.

  She threw herself on to the floor next to Saturn and began to stroke his head.

  ‘How come you’re not answering your phone?’ she asked.

  I put my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

  ‘The battery’s dead,’ I said, blinking away the sudden image of me lying on the top bunk in Mary’s cabin, watching as the last bar of battery faded away.

  I went to the dresser, pulled out my charger and plugged in my phone. It flashed on immediately.

  Sending failed.

  Retry?

  Then I saw the message I’d tried to send Mum.

  Sorry, Mum. On the Titanic. Home ASAP.

  I deleted the message and sat down, feeling suddenly weak. Tilly was staring at me.

  ‘Your mum says you’re not feeling very well,’ she said. ‘And she’s right. Your face is whiter than Saturn’s fur.’

  ‘You’re never going to believe what happened to me this afternoon,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘I was sitting here, combing Saturn, and then –’

  Suddenly it all seemed too crazy.

  I’m not a freak. I’m a normal kid. What was I doing thinking I had travelled back in time? Even trying to put it into words seemed impossible. Mum was right after all – the whole thing must have been an unusually vivid dream – so vivid that I’d tried to text back to reality in the middle of it.

  ‘Forget it,’ I said to Tilly, who had probably forgotten it already. ‘How did you get on in your cousin’s house?’

  A while later, Tilly stood up. ‘I need to go home for dinner,’ she said.

  I stood up too and followed her into the hall.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, as I raised my hand to open the front door. ‘Where’s the charm I gave you?’

  I could see she wasn’t happy and I couldn’t blame her.

  ‘I thought you were going to keep that charm forever – even when you are married,’ she said. ‘So much for your promises.’

  I looked at the gap on my bracelet. Then we went b
ack and we both looked on the couch where I’d been sitting, but there was no sign of the charm.

  I closed my eyes for a second and saw Mary’s thin fingers closing over it.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tilly. I …’ I began, not knowing how to finish.

  Tilly stepped closer.

  ‘And what’s that weird thing round your neck?’ she asked.

  I moved my hand slowly towards my neck, but before it got there, I knew exactly what it was going to find – a small, silver-coloured disc hanging from a narrow blue ribbon.

  I slept a lot over the next few days. But no matter how much I slept, I still felt more tired than I had ever felt before.

  One afternoon, I took Mary’s medal from its blue ribbon and clipped it into the new space on my charm bracelet. It wasn’t as bright and shiny as my other charms, but looking at it comforted me in a way that nothing else did.

  Many times I thought of telling Mum or Dad or Tilly about what had happened to me, but I couldn’t do it.

  It was all too weird – and I don’t do weird.

  Stephen might have believed me, but he believes all kinds of crazy stuff, so that wouldn’t have counted.

  Sometimes I looked at Saturn, like he’d be able to help me.

  Did he remember what had happened? Did he have any idea how much weird stuff had gone on recently?

  One morning I even mashed up some bread and milk and put it into Saturn’s bowl to see if it would jog his memory about being in Ballyboher. He sniffed the food for a while and then gazed at me for so long that I almost managed to convince myself that he was grinning at me.

  ‘Get real,’ I imagined him saying. ‘We’re not in 1912 any more, you know.’

  And then he curled up and went to sleep – it looked like time-travelling was tiring for him too.

  Sometimes Tilly and I went to the park, and I sat on a bench while she did her extreme climbing thing. I half hoped that Betsy would show up. There were lots of things I needed to ask her.