‘I’m not crying for him, stupid.’
I’m shallow. I’ve always been shallow. Whether naturally or because of my up-bringing, I don’t know and it’s not really important. When Bad Things happen, I just shut down. Other people don’t like this. He didn’t like it. Hadn’t liked it. But it’s a godsend. It keeps my head clear. It allows me to function. Somewhere inside me is a locked room where the Bad Things lie deeply buried. My childhood, the child I carried and lost, Sussman’s treachery, the murder of Isabella Barclay – it’s all there, safely locked away. No trouble to anyone, least of all me. This was just another Bad Thing to be locked away and forgotten.
All things pass.
‘Max, I don’t know what to do for you.’
‘You don’t have to do anything for me, Tim. I’m fine. Let me make you some tea.’
He tried to protest, but I overruled him. He looked dreadful. Of the two of us, I was in far better condition.
He didn’t finish his tea, getting up to go after just one sip.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I have to go.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t bear it any longer. Maybe Kal will know what to do.’
Then he was gone.
I finished his tea as well, showered, and was about to leave my room when Dr Bairstow turned up.
‘Sir, am I late? I was on my way.’
‘No, no. I thought I would come to you.’
‘Please, come in.’
He limped straight to the window and drew the curtains. But not before I had glimpsed movement in the room across the roof.
They were clearing out Leon’s belongings.
I appreciated the thought, but it was unnecessary. I was absolutely fine.
‘Would you like to sit down, sir?’
He sat heavily, placing a bottle of wine, two large brown envelopes, and my personal file on the scarred coffee table in front of him.
I put two glasses on the table, sat down beside him and waited for him to begin.
He didn’t ask how I was, which I really appreciated.
Like an echo from the past, he said again, ‘Am I going to lose you, too?’
I responded cautiously. ‘Not as far as I know, sir.’
He picked up the first envelope.
‘I ask because I found this amongst L – Chief Farrell’s personal effects.’
I opened the envelope. Property details. Small flats in Rushford with workspace. For the two of us. To live together. His dream. The one I’d trampled over with all the brutality of someone stamping a fluffy kitten into a field of daffodils.
‘Would you like to have these, Max?’
No. I wasn’t going to torture myself with what might have been.
‘No, thank you, sir.’
He carefully replaced the contents and laid the envelope back on the table, saying, with difficulty, because he really didn’t do this sort of thing well, ‘If you think it would help, I can easily arrange a temporary transfer to Thirsk. If you think a change of scenery would be beneficial.’
I shook my head.
‘Thank you, sir, but unless you object, I’d prefer to stay here. We have a lot on at the moment.’
‘I understand.’
And actually he did.
He began again.
‘I’ve sent him back. In his pod.’
I didn’t get it to begin with. Then I did.
He was from the future. He couldn’t stay here. Nor could his pod. It wasn’t of this time. So the Boss had sent them back.
I’d lost him twice.
Again, he seemed to read my thoughts.
‘It’s his home. They’ll put him with his family.’
Yes, his mother and his sons, who had died in some dreadful future epidemic. A loss from which he never quite recovered. Finally, they would all be together.
And I would be alone again.
He continued. ‘There will be a service, of course. Tomorrow. We’ll put up a stone to remember him by. And his name will go up on the Boards of Honour.’
I nodded.
‘I have his will here.’
We all made out wills. With our lifestyle, it was only prudent. They were all lodged with Dr Bairstow. He and Thirsk were our executors.
‘He left everything to you.’
He passed me a piece of paper and pointed to a total.
‘Sir, you do know we weren’t …?’ I stopped, unable to think of the right word.
‘Yes, I know. It makes no difference. He never changed his will.’
‘It doesn’t seem right, somehow.’
‘Nevertheless, you are his beneficiary.’
I looked at him. How much did he know?
‘It will take a while, of course, but you will be quite well off, Max. Independent, perhaps. So, I ask again. Am I going to lose you too?’
I shook my head.
‘You should be so lucky, sir.’
He smiled, slightly, and put the second envelope away.
‘I was rather hoping you might be able to solve a small mystery for me. Would you like to hear a short story?’
I nodded, mystified.