‘Yes, yes I do.’
I found I couldn’t speak. I had a huge lump in my throat as we watched them walk off into what was yet to come for all of us. They’d split up into groups of fifteen or twenty, walking single-file down the beach. This group wouldn’t go that far, but their children would go further and their children further still. Until one day …
We watched until the last figures disappeared into the haze. There we went, indeed. A young race, with its entire future ahead of it. I envied them. I wondered if they’d been as impressed with us as we’d been with them. Somehow, I doubted it. Not impressed enough to wake us before they left. For one last look at each other. I’d wanted so much to … and they’d just departed. Without even a farewell.
I was struggling not to cry.
Peterson turned away and walked back to the fire. Smoke drifted across the beach.
‘Max. Come and look.’
Wiping my eyes, I scrambled down the dune.
‘They’ve left us a gift. Look.’
They had. They’d left us one of their shell necklaces, carefully placed nearby on a flat rock and weighed down with a small stone so it wouldn’t blow away.
My heart soared. They’d left us a gift. They hadn’t just walked away after all.
I would have loved to take it back with me, but I couldn’t. Peterson photographed it while I found three flat stones, placed one carefully on top of the other and laid the shell necklace on the top. A gift to the gods of this place with a request to keep them all safe.
Today, it’s a hundred feet or so beneath the sea.
We stood for a while, each with our own thoughts, and then Peterson said, ‘You and me. Are we all right?’
I nodded. ‘Yes. At least, I hope we are. You were right to stop me. I nearly made a terrible mistake.’ I stopped, swallowing hard.
He sighed. ‘They didn’t need us at all, did they? We’re nowhere near as important as we think we are. A lesson we needed to learn, I think.’
‘Well, I certainly did. I should say thank you.’
‘No need.’
‘Every need, I think, Tim.’
He smiled slightly. ‘I wonder what they thought of us.’
‘Not a lot, I suspect.’
I saw us through their eyes. Over-dressed. Over-fed. At odds with the world around us. Vain. Noisy. And that was just me …
How much less impressive than those quiet, assured people who fitted so perfectly into the world around them and who strode off into their unknowable future with less fuss and drama than most of us make just going to the shops.
I looked along the beach. Already the wind and sea were dispersing the ashes and blowing away the footprints. In less than a day there would be nothing to show they’d ever been here. That any of us had been here.
‘Tim, I’m sorry.’
‘Hey, I told you. No need to apologise.’
‘Yes, there is.’
‘It’s OK. No harm done.’
‘Thanks to you.’
I went to turn away but he pulled me back.
‘Sit down a moment. I want to talk to you.’
We sat at the top of a low rise and I listened to the sounds of the sea.
‘Are you leaving?’
‘What?’
‘Are you leaving St Mary’s?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Well, I heard the Chancellor offer you a job and I know you’re not very happy at the moment. Can I do anything?
‘You just have.’
‘I didn’t do anything and you didn’t answer the question. Are you leaving?’
Was I? Was I really going to leave St Mary’s?
‘No, of course not. In what other job do you get to see the face of your ancestors? I couldn’t do another job even if this one kills me. Which it probably will.’
He was silent for a while, poking the coarse sand with a stick.
‘Glad you’re staying.’
‘Me too.’
He put his arm around me. First time ever.
We sat in silence while I had a bit of a think.
‘Tim, did he do all this just to keep me here?’
‘Dr Bairstow? Wouldn’t be at all surprised.’
‘Tim …’
‘Yeah, I really wouldn’t mention that to anyone, if I were you. Let’s get our stuff. We should be getting back. Mission accomplished.’
‘And we didn’t really interfere that much.’
His face brightened.
‘That’s right. This time, we’ll hardly have to fudge the report at all.’
Chapter Fourteen
Six months later, I was in my office getting ready for one of my favourite tasks. This was when I sorted out the assignments for the coming year.
Forget computers, data-stacks, and high-tech. The easiest way to plan for the coming year’s assignments is to push the tables together in a U-shape, send your bitterly complaining assistant out for three rolls of lining paper, and get stuck in.
Miss Lee had marked off the centuries and I started laying things out.
Firstly, on pink sheets, there were the assignments from Thirsk. Since they paid our wages, they had priority.