He sighed and sat back.
‘My mother was a teacher. In France. I never knew my father and probably because of that the two of us were very close. I joined the army, as an engineer. I was posted around the place and served some time on a carrier. I met and married a pilot, Monique. I don’t know what she saw in me and, after a while, neither did she. She left, suddenly, leaving me with two small boys. Alex and Stevie. Stevie wasn’t much more than a baby.’
He sighed again. ‘I did my best, but it wasn’t easy. Sometimes, when you have small children, overflowing love is not enough. Anyway, my mother joined us. She gave up her job, but it enabled me to carry on with mine, and life got better for all of us. And Monique had been home so rarely that I don’t think the boys really missed her all that much. I took leave whenever I could. We went on trips. We had holidays. We … were a happy family.’
He stopped for a long time. I waited quietly. When he was able to continue, he said, ‘And then, one year, there was a big flu epidemic. A really vicious strain this time, that attacked the most vulnerable – the old and the young. My mother was the first. My maman. I loved her. When I think of what she sacrificed for me and then just as I was able to make her life more comfortable, she died.’
He drank some tea. I waited.
‘Then the boys got it. Alex first. He was … he was always a quiet boy. He just … went to sleep. Stevie got it badly. He was only a baby and he suffered so much. I nursed him, but he wanted his grandmère. He kept calling for her. He didn’t know me. He died not knowing me.’
He put down his mug on the floor and carefully lined up the handle with the locker door, taking his time about it. I waited. I knew there was more.
‘While the boys were in hospital, they took blood for all sorts of tests. There was talk of a vaccine … when the doctor came to see me, God help me, I thought there was a chance … that we could save them … that they’d found a cure.
‘But it wasn’t anything like that. She came to tell me the boys weren’t mine. Neither of them. In fact, they weren’t even full brothers. Different fathers. My precious, beautiful boys. Only they weren’t.’
This was a much more bitter tale than the first time he told me. Time had not yet healed. Not even a little.
‘I spent six solid months looking for her. Although I was so drunk most of the time she could have passed me in the street and I wouldn’t have known her. Then St Mary’s found me. Teddy knocked me out cold and I woke up at St Mary’s …’
He turned the mug around so the handle pointed the other way.
‘They saved me. I know that. So you could say it’s time I paid something back.’ He looked at me. ‘In fact, knowing you, you probably will.’
I shook my head. ‘Don’t take any notice of that. I wound you up deliberately.’
‘You’re a bad woman, Lucy.’
‘I certainly hope so. I’ve put a lot of time and effort into it.’
I felt rather than saw him smile.
‘So, what now?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘You must be knackered. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll keep an eye on things for a bit.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not tired at all. I want to talk to you. Do you mind?’
‘No, not at all,’ I said, somewhat surprised. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘You. Tell me about you.’
‘There’s not a lot actually. As you can see by my battered appearance, I’ve been an historian for some time. In fact, I’ve been round the block several times now.’
‘It doesn’t show.’
‘Why, Leon Fa– for heaven’s sake, you silver-tongued charmer.’
He looked at me for a moment, and then moved his mug again. Had he caught my slip?
‘So, is there anyone in your life?’
Now what did I say?
‘Not at present.’
He messed around with the mug a bit more.
‘You should find someone. You deserve someone good in your life. Or someone should find you.’
I sighed, deliberately misunderstanding him.
‘I’m never around long enough to be found. I’m usually running for my life in any century you care to name. He’d have to catch me first.’
A very, very long silence. Rain drummed hard on the roof.
He turned to me and said quietly, ‘I’m a fast runner.’
I couldn’t say it was a surprise. I think on some level I’d known, right from the moment I opened the pod door and seen him standing there. And, I think, he’d known it too. The attraction was still there, even if we were now at different points in our lives.
I said in a whisper, ‘You’d have to be. I’m not easy to catch.’
He prised my mug from my death-grip.
For some reason the temperature inside the pod had risen considerably. I could hardly hear the ongoing storm over the sound of my own heart.