‘A combination. There are moments where reality slips through.’
Siobhan leafed through the other psychometric tests. She checked Jim for depression, and found him sub-threshold, but his anxiety levels were very high indeed. Really she should report his situation directly to Margaret. Distress at death was something that Margaret took particular interest in – for the purposes of elimination.
Siobhan closed the psychometric file.
‘What’s your home timeline?’ she asked Jim.
‘Twenty twenty-seven.’
‘Good. There’s a great deal of private counselling available then. Take some leave, go home, and pay for anxiety treatment.’
‘But that’s forbidden.’ Jim blanched. ‘Am I going to be fired?’
‘No. Not unless you’ve discussed your problems with anyone else at the Conclave?’
‘I haven’t.’
‘Good. Keep it that way. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation didn’t happen.’
‘Very well.’ He stood, and loosened his wristwatch absent-mindedly. ‘Thank you, Dr Joyce. I’m glad it was you I spoke to.’
Siobhan nodded, and hoped – for his sake – he would maintain his discretion.
35
AUGUST 2017
Ruby
Grace accompanied Ruby through New Street Station. They stared at the departures board.
‘That’s my train,’ Ruby said. ‘Platform two. What are you doing now?’
Grace bounced on the toes of her pilgrim shoes.
‘I’m fancy-free. No ties, nowhere to be.’
‘Do you have any family? In this year, I mean.’
‘I probably have some cousins who are still alive. Who knows what age they’d be.’
‘How old are you now?’
‘Haven’t a clue.’ Grace tapped her tracker watch. ‘This little chap counts my heartbeats. I’m up to… one point one billion. The Conclave uses that information to calculate what year I’d be in if I’d lived my life in the same chronology as everyone else. When I die, the number of my heartbeats will indicate I should be in 2027. That’s why the Conclave will send my body there. Say, do you want to go there with me?’
‘To 2027?’ Ruby found the prospect horrifying.
‘No. To the Conclave. I’d give you a special guided tour.’
‘Oh.’ Ruby smiled with relief. ‘How could I resist?’
‘That’s settled then. I’ll catch the train to London with you now.’
She bought a ticket and they boarded the waiting train. It was packed with commuters, but Ruby and Grace managed to find two seats next to each other.
‘Are you from London?’ Ruby asked. ‘Originally.’
‘My home town’s much less glamorous. Can’t we pretend I sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus?’
‘Your accent puts you somewhere between Hampstead and Philadelphia.’
‘That’s the middle of the ocean!’
‘Yes. Maybe you’re Venus, rather than Athena.’
‘Ruby, you charmer! I’ll tell you a secret.’ Her voice dropped. ‘This isn’t the accent I grew up with.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘Every Saturday I’d study how the film stars spoke in matinees. And – oh, this is a shameful genesis – one afternoon I saw a B-movie called Hell or High Water. A beautiful actress called Bella Darvi played a physics professor and I wanted to be just like her. Now tell me,’ Grace said, ‘I’ve been dying to ask. Weren’t you the teensiest bit tempted to try on Lucille’s ring? It’s a darling little thing.’
A darling little thing hurtling through time. Ruby felt a twinge of guilt.
‘It was too small,’ she lied.
‘What a shame! I was so sure it would fit you. It was a little loose on me. I worried it would slip off my hand without me noticing.’
‘Why did you have Lucille’s ring anyway?’ Ruby asked.
‘Before she died she gave it to one of my older selves. She didn’t have any children to pass it on to.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe it’s just as well you can’t wear it. It would deter potential suitors.’
Ruby laughed.
‘But if you’d worn it tonight,’ Grace said, ‘we could have played at being an engaged couple.’
‘Have you played that game before?’
‘Before I started time travelling all engagements between women were play engagements. There are some advantages to working in other time periods.’
‘Do things keep getting better?’
‘Progress isn’t irreversible.’ She smiled overbrightly. ‘I can avoid the worst years. Right then, future wife. I’m going to have some beauty sleep. We have a long night ahead of us.’
‘What do time travellers dream of?’
‘Punch and Judy, and conspiratorial vicars, and schoolgirls with guns.’
‘Get you with your John Masefield references!’ Ruby said. ‘Bee used to read me The Box of Delights. I can remember every single line, complete with page references. Did you know it’s my favourite novel?’
‘I did. Mine’s The Chrysalids. Now hush.’ Grace closed her eyes, and let her head rest against Ruby’s shoulder.
36
SEPTEMBER 2018
Odette and Siobhan
In accordance with Elspeth’s instructions, Odette waited in reception for the results of her application. She took one of the seats and contemplated the magazines fanned across the table. There was no point even trying to read one. Until she knew whether she had the job, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate.
She closed her eyes and her head fell back as she allowed exhaustion to catch up with her. The day had been a prolonged test of endurance and her ability to dissemble. So far nobody appeared to realise her motives for working there were suspicious. Papi must have decided to hold his piece.
‘Odette,’ she heard someone say. Their voice was hushed. ‘Are you sleeping?’
‘No,’ Odette replied, blinking. There was a woman kneeling down by her chair – a little older than Odette, with short strawberry-blonde hair.
‘My name’s Fay Hayes.’ She held up a manila envelope. ‘You got the job.’
Thank God. Odette beamed. ‘Where do I sign?’
Fay removed Odette’s contract from the envelope, and offered a pen.
Odette read the terms and conditions cursorily, and signed her name where indicated. ‘Is that everything?’
‘No. Come with me,’ Fay said. ‘I’ll be overseeing your initiation.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘We’re going offsite – not far; just to a café down the road.’
‘But why didn’t Elspeth mention it?’ Odette was thrown by the unexpected prolonging of her day. And initiation sounded worrying.
‘Because it’s not organised by Elspeth. You could call it… peer training.’
‘Is it mandatory?’
‘It’s part of every employee’s introduction to the Conclave.’
‘OK,’ Odette relented. ‘What do I need to do?’
‘Follow me. I’ll brief you on the way.’
*
Siobhan Joyce was looking up holiday flights in her office. The telephone rang; it was reception.
‘I’m really sorry to land this on you,’ said the receptionist. ‘We’ve had a call from a member of the public. He says he has important information about one of our job applicants.’
‘What kind of information?’
‘He says it’s highly confidential. Won’t give his name. I don’t even know who he’s talking about. But he’s insisting on talking to whoever deals with mental health. Will you talk to him? Sorry if he’s a nutter.’
‘Put him through.’ Siobhan picked a brown leaf from the pot plant on her desk and dropped it in the wastepaper basket.
‘Hello?’ a male voice asked. ‘Who am I speaking to?’
‘This is Dr Joyce,’ Siobhan said. ‘Can I help?’
‘Are you a medical doctor?’
‘A psychologist.’
‘Oh. Oh, OK. I have information about a prospective detective. Her name is Odette Sophola.’
‘I see,’ Siobhan said.
‘She won’t disclose it herself. But she has a recent history of trauma. She was witness to a very violent crime and it affected her enough to require therapy.’
‘You’re quite sure she didn’t put this on her application?’
‘Positive. She saw a private therapist so it wasn’t in her notes. I’ve worried sick over it. I just want her to be safe.’
‘Has she recovered?’
‘Yes. Yes, unquestionably. But the website seemed so clear – any history of trauma might be a risk. If she doesn’t get the job, will she know someone provided this information?’