The Time Spell Page 4

  I felt sorry for him, but I felt sorry for me too. I didn’t like being lost.

  Maybe my parents already had an international search party out looking for me.

  Maybe my face was already staring out of every newspaper in the country. (If it was, could I be sure they’d used a flattering photograph of me? If they’d used that gross one Dad took last Christmas, I would never ever speak to them again.)

  ‘Please,’ I said.

  ‘All right,’ he replied. ‘I can do the carrots later. Let’s just go inside first and Granny Bridget will get us something to eat.’

  Something to eat sounded good – after all, I hadn’t eaten for almost a hundred years.

  So I took a deep breath and followed Mikey into the tiny house.

  We were in a small, dark room. There was a huge fire burning and beside it sat an ancient old lady who was knitting furiously.

  ‘Granny, this is Lauren,’ said Mikey. ‘She’s coming to Queenstown with me, but can we have some food first?’

  The old woman nodded and put down her knitting. Then she came over to me and patted my hair and stroked my face. Her hand was thin and rough, and it felt a bit like I was being stroked by a chicken’s claw.

  ‘Er, hello … Mrs …’ I began.

  ‘You can call her Granny Bridget,’ said Mikey. ‘Everyone does.’

  ‘Hello, Granny Bridget,’ I said, and she smiled at me.

  Mikey and I sat by the fire until my legs were warm again, and then I helped him to put cutlery on the table.

  A few minutes later, Granny Bridget served up the food.

  I sat down and she handed me a plate. There was a hunk of hard-looking bread and a greasy scrap of bacon about the size of a fifty-cent piece. Mikey gave me a cup of warm milk.

  And even though I’m more a lasagne and pizza kind of girl, I dived into the food like it was the finest I had ever eaten.

  When the meal was over, Mikey found some even staler bread, which he mixed up with a drop of milk in a small bowl.

  ‘What’s that for?’ I asked, hoping it wasn’t dessert.

  ‘It’s for your strange cat,’ he said with a grin.

  I followed him outside, wondering how I could explain that Saturn only ate a special kind of dried food that you had to buy at the vet’s office.

  Saturn came bounding over when he saw us, and I was amazed when he ate every scrap of the mushy mess. Clearly he understood that it didn’t pay to be fussy when you were stuck in 1912.

  I wondered if he’d been in 1912 before. Or if he had any idea what was going on. I wished he could talk, so he could tell me what he knew.

  Shortly afterwards, Mikey picked up the empty bowl and we went back inside.

  ‘Time to go,’ he said.

  ‘Er, how exactly are we travelling?’ I asked, fairly sure that I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  Mikey looked at me like I was an idiot. ‘In a horse and cart, of course. How else would we get there?’

  Car, bus, train, motorbike, aeroplane, jet-ski, space shuttle?

  ‘How else indeed?’ I said glumly.

  Mikey ignored me. ‘Our neighbour Paddy is lending me his horse and cart.’

  Mikey picked up a towel and wiped his face. Then he licked his hands and used them to flatten his hair.

  ‘Now,’ he said. ‘I’m ready.’

  Then he looked at me.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s … it’s … it’s your clothes.’

  I looked down at my shorts and T-shirt and fleece.

  I knew what he meant. I was fairly sure that my clothes weren’t exactly the height of 1912 fashion – and while I like to be adventurous, being almost a hundred years ahead of the current trends was a bit extreme, even for me.

  ‘People will think you are very strange if you go to Queenstown dressed like that.’

  He was right, but what was I supposed to do? Grab Granny Bridget’s wool and needles and knit myself a suit? Weave myself a dress from a bundle of old straw?

  Mikey smiled shyly. ‘All of my mother’s clothes are still here. She was thin like you, so I know they would fit. You can borrow something, if you want.’

  I hesitated. Could Mikey really part with something that had once belonged to his mother? Did I really want to wear a dead woman’s clothes?

  But I knew he was right.

  My trip was going to be difficult enough, without everyone staring at me like I was a total freak.

  So I let Mikey lead me up a shaky ladder to a dark attic.

  ‘Er … Mikey,’ I said, finding it easier to speak in the darkness. ‘Earlier, when you said about your mother dying and stuff, I wasn’t very sympathetic. I’m sorry … you see … I –’

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘You were upset.’

  I nodded. ‘I know, but that’s no excuse, and my friend Tilly – her mother died too, so I know how hard it is.’

  ‘Tell your friend that I’m sorry for her troubles,’ he said.

  ‘Sure I will,’ I said – if I ever see her again.

  Then Mikey opened a big trunk and pulled out a faded brown dress. He held it up proudly.

  ‘This is the one. This was my mother’s Sunday best,’ he said.

  I didn’t answer. The poor woman must have really looked forward to Sundays.

  Not.

  Mikey patted my arm awkwardly. ‘I would like you to have it,’ he said. ‘And my mother was a very generous woman. I think she would have wished you to have it too.’

  It didn’t seem fair to argue with a dead woman’s wishes, so I nodded my head. ‘Thank you,’ was all I could think of saying, though it didn’t feel like enough.

  Then Mikey tucked the dress under his arm and we both slid down the ladder.

  In the kitchen I unzipped my fleece.

  Mikey gasped. ‘What is that?’

  ‘What?’

  He pointed to the zip, feeling the thick plastic teeth.

  I laughed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a zip before.’

  ‘I’ve never seen a zip before,’ he said solemnly.

  I took off my fleece and tried to show Mikey how the zip worked.

  ‘That’s magic,’ he sighed. ‘Real live magic.’

  I put the dress on over my T-shirt and shorts. It fitted perfectly, coming right down to the ground and covering my runners. The dress was made of thick brown material. It had long sleeves and a high, ruffled neck. It was probably the ugliest dress I had ever worn, and I was glad there wasn’t a mirror anywhere nearby. I didn’t want to see how awful I looked.

  ‘You look very nice, Lauren,’ said Mikey shyly. ‘A real fancy lady.’

  I turned away so he couldn’t see how selfish and mean his comment made me feel.

  Ten minutes later we’d said our goodbyes to Granny Bridget, and we were trotting along a narrow country road in Mikey’s neighbour’s horse and cart.

  Mikey was grinning. ‘It’s good to travel in style,’ he said. ‘We’re like the king and queen of Munster.’

  I didn’t answer. My teeth were rattling in my head, and even though I was sitting on my fleece, I felt sure that I was already black and blue from bouncing up and down on the hard bench.

  Saturn was curled up on some old blankets on the back of the cart, looking very sorry for himself.

  ‘Granny Bridget’s really nice,’ I said, to distract myself from the pain. ‘How old is she?’

  Mikey shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think she even knows. But I know she was alive during the famine.’

  I gulped. ‘You mean like the famine? The one in the history books? When the potatoes all went bad? Your granny was alive then?’

  He nodded.

  I wished that I’d asked the old lady a few questions, so that the next time I had to do a history project, I could do it about the famine and it would be so authentic I�
�d get top marks.

  And then I gave up on that thought.

  Maybe I’d never get back to my real life, never again be in my school doing projects. Maybe I’d stay stuck in the past forever, becoming my own personal real-life history project.

  ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’ asked Mikey, shaking me out of my sad dreams.

  I nodded. ‘One of each. They’re both really, really annoying.’

  He sighed. ‘I wish I had brothers and sisters.’

  Suddenly I felt sorry for him again. Amy and Stephen might be a pain, but we do have fun sometimes. And, back in my real life, I had a mum who was alive and a dad who lived in the same country as me. Poor Mikey had none of that.

  Mikey continued. ‘There’s a boy in my class and he has seven brothers and four sisters. When I go past his house, I can hear them all talking together. They sound so happy.’

  Seven brothers and four sisters sounded like a nightmare to me, but what did I know?

  ‘When I grow up,’ he went on. ‘I’m going to get married and have a whole house full of children, all laughing and playing together all day long. I won’t ever get cross with them because I’ll be so glad that they are there. A big family is the thing I want most in the whole world.’

  ‘You go for it,’ I said.

  He giggled. ‘You know, you say very strange things. Sometimes it’s almost as if you speak a different language to me.’

  I smiled. ‘You want to hear more strange talk?’

  He nodded.

  Then I said really fast, ‘Computer, DVD, spaceship, Nintendo, satnav, microwave, tumble-drier, laptop, remote control, interactive whiteboard, plasma screen …’

  I stopped for breath and Mikey laughed and clapped his hands.

  ‘You are so good at making up words,’ he said. ‘I wish I could do that.’

  I grinned. ‘You could, but it would take a long time to learn – probably most of a hundred years.’

  Then we were quiet for a while. It was hard to know what to say. Tilly and I never have enough time to say all the things we want, but none of the things that Tilly and I talk about were suitable topics of conversation in 1912.

  Have you seen the latest phone? Anything good on TV tonight? My laptop’s broken?

  Mikey pulled on the reins, slowing the horse.

  ‘You should rest, Lauren,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a long journey ahead of you.’

  Ha! He had no idea how true those words were.

  The cart stopped completely. Mikey leaned back and rearranged the blankets on the back of the cart, making a softish place for me to rest.

  ‘Giddy-up,’ he said then, and the cart lurched forward, making me tumble down backwards on to the heap of blankets.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Mikey, but I could see from the shaking of his shoulders that he was laughing.

  I laughed too, glad that this serious boy had room for a sense of humour.

  ‘I’ll wake you when we get there,’ he said.

  As I tried to make myself comfortable on the blankets, Saturn slid over beside me.

  ‘I don’t like being here,’ I whispered as he snuggled close. ‘But I’m glad you’re with me.’

  Saturn blinked once, and then closed his eyes, shutting me out and making me feel suddenly lonely.

  So I closed my eyes too, and soon the sway of the cart lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  It felt like only minutes later that Mikey was shaking my arm gently.

  ‘We’re here, Lauren,’ he said. ‘This is Queenstown.’

  I rubbed my eyes and climbed down from the cart. Saturn sat up, stretched, and then jumped into my arms.

  Mikey climbed down from the cart too. He seemed shy.

  ‘The railway station is that way,’ he said, pointing. ‘Ask for directions if you can’t find it. Have you got money for the train?’

  ‘Yes,’ I lied.

  I knew Mikey had no money to give me and I didn’t want to make him feel bad. When the time came I’d think of something.

  ‘Here,’ he said, holding a small, paper-wrapped package towards me. ‘Take this for the journey.’

  I knew it was the sandwich Granny Bridget had made for him. I didn’t want to take it and deprive him of his only food. And I hoped I’d never be hungry enough to want to eat the greasy lump of bacon fat she’d put into the sandwich.

  So I smiled. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll get food on the train.’

  Mikey was the kindest, sweetest boy I have ever known, (in any time-zone). Even though we’d only known each other for a few hours, I felt closer to him than I felt to some people I’d known for years.

  I desperately wanted to give him something – to try, in some small way, to repay all his kindness to me. I felt my shorts pockets through the brown dress. In one pocket I could feel my phone, which wasn’t much use to Mikey, or anyone else in 1912.

  I racked my brains. If I couldn’t give Mikey a thing, surely there was some information I could give him that would help him sometime in the future?

  Suddenly I remembered something that had happened in a film I’d seen years earlier. It was a time-travel film (and I’d seen it back when I believed that time travel was just an impossible, crazy fantasy).

  ‘Hey, Mikey,’ I said. ‘Listen carefully and remember this. Spain are going to win the World Cup in 2010. If you go to the betting shop and back Spain early, you can make heaps of money.’

  I thought I was being very clever, but Mikey just looked puzzled. ‘The World Cup for what? What’s a betting shop? I don’t understand what you are saying,’ he said.

  ‘You don’t have to understand,’ I said. ‘Just remember. World Cup. Spain. 2010. Write it down and keep it safe. One day it will make sense, I promise you.’

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Whatever.’

  I smiled at his use of the new words I had taught him, but my smile faded quickly as I calculated in my head. By the time 2010 came around, Mikey would be well over a hundred years old. What were the chances of him still being alive? Would he remember an encounter with a very strange girl in funny clothes who had appeared out of nowhere, one sunny April day in 1912? If he did remember, would he think it was just a foolish boyhood daydream?

  ‘I’d better get going,’ I said.

  I soooo wanted to hug Mikey, but I had already figured out that in 1912, boys and girls didn’t hug until they were practically married. So I held out my hand and he took it in his, and we shook firmly, like we were making a deal.

  Then Saturn and I set off to find the train station.

  I’d never felt so alone in my whole life.

  For a minute, I thought about going to the police – after all, even in 1912 it must have been their job to take care of lost children.

  But what were they supposed to do? Were they going to say – Oh, yes, our time-travel machine is just about to leave – it’s being fuelled up as we speak. Hop on board and we’ll have you back with your family in no time?

  No chance.

  They’d just listen to my story and then fling me into some grim home for deranged orphans, and I’d never be seen again.

  If I was going to get home, I was going to have to do it all on my own.

  The town was very busy with people pushing and shoving and hurrying. No one paid any attention to me as I walked along in my ugly brown dress with my cat in my arms. At home, everyone stares at Saturn, but here no one seemed to notice him at all – maybe they had too many other things on their minds.

  ‘Do you know where the railway –’ I began to ask a man, but he just pushed past me, without a glance.

  ‘Thanks for nothing,’ I said, and walked on.

  Soon I came to a big dock area where there were even more crowds. Lots of people were hugging each other and crying. Many people were standing next to huge stacks of bags and suitcases.

  There were some small boats tied up
along the side of the dock, and far out across the water I could see a huge ship.

  Suddenly Saturn wriggled out of my arms and ran towards the edge of the dock. ‘Hey, come back,’ I called. ‘We’re looking for a train, not a boat. And besides, cats are supposed to be afraid of water.’

  As usual, Saturn ignored my calls and made his way through the crowds. I followed, terrified of losing sight of him.

  ‘How did I ever get stuck with such a useless cat?’ I muttered as I ran. ‘Why couldn’t Betsy have given me a dog – a nice, obedient dog?’

  I didn’t mean that, though – not really. Since this whole mess had started, Saturn hadn’t done a lot to help me, but in the crazy world I had stumbled into, he was my only hope. If I was ever to get home again, I knew Saturn was going to have something to do with it. And besides, if I didn’t have Saturn to cuddle when I felt low, how was I ever going to cope at all?

  I pushed my way past a group of young boys, and saw Saturn. He glanced backwards, almost as if he wanted to be sure that I was following him. He was almost within my reach, but as I stretched out my arms to grab him, I stumbled on my long dress and fell to the ground. I lay there for a second, stunned and scared. I could feel a trickle of blood on my knee.

  Then I heard a gentle voice in my ear.

  ‘You poor little girl. Please allow me to help you.’

  I opened my eyes to see a kind-faced man with a huge grey beard. He looked like Santa Claus’s grandad. I took the hand he was holding towards me and got to my feet.

  ‘There’s a bench over there,’ he said. ‘You should go and sit down and catch your breath.’

  I shook my head. This was no time for luxuries like sitting on benches and catching my breath.

  ‘I’m fine. Thanks very much,’ I called over my shoulder as I raced off in the direction Saturn had taken. I could feel my heart thumping wildly as I got to the very edge of the dock.

  Saturn was nowhere to be seen.

  I put my face in my hands and tried to hold back the wave of terror that was starting to wash over me. This was all much too scary.

  I wanted Saturn in my arms. I wanted to be safe in my own house.

  I wanted Mum and Dad and Tilly.