He cried out. Sharply. Driving himself into me. And again. And again. Shouting my name.
And as if that was the signal, my sight exploded in sheets of light and colour and willingly, I let go, and let him take me wherever he wanted.
He fell heavily asleep, emotionally exhausted. I was determined to remain awake. He had all this to come. It was all ahead of him. But for me – this was the last time I would ever see him, ever hold him, ever feel that strong, steady heartbeat which failed him in the end.
Sooner or later, we would have to part. He would go on to great things. I would face the rest of my life alone. No, I wasn’t going to sleep.
When I awoke, he was sitting beside me with a cup of tea. My heart sank. The storm was over. Or had at least subsided sufficiently for him to risk powering up again.
He sat beside me and I leaned against him. He put his arm around me. Neither of us spoke. We would tidy the pod and ourselves. In an hour, we would be gone from here. I was unable to swallow my tea for the lump in my throat. I tried to pull myself together. I’d been given a second chance. I should just be grateful.
He tightened his grip around my shoulders and dropped a kiss in my hair. I snuggled against him. We stayed together for a very long time. Neither of us spoke. There was too much to say and no chance of it being said.
One of us had to make a move. I broke free, picked up my still-damp clothes, and disappeared into the shower. He didn’t join me.
When I emerged, he was dressed and had cleared away the mess. He’d risked opening the door for a few minutes because the pod smelled fresh and clean. I sat at the console and twisted my hair back into its bun. It would have been easier in the toilet, where there was a mirror, but I’d been doing some thinking and I had coordinates to check. While his back was turned, I pulled out my scratchpad and banged them in.
So there we were – two professionals ready to go. Neither of us spoke. I looked at the screen. The scene outside was unrecognisable. Broken trees, branches, foliage, debris, all piled around the base of the cliff. It was easy to see from which direction the wind had been blowing. There’d been a lot of damage done out there.
There’d been a lot of damage done in here as well. He had that broken look about him again. God knows how I looked.
He shut the last locker door and sat in the other seat. We both stared out of the screen at a hideously bright, fresh, sparkling morning. A new day in the Cretaceous. A new day for both of us.
He said, ‘Are you ready?’
I nodded. He was going to make this easy.
‘I’ll put you down in the woods. Just by the East Gate.’
‘Thank you.’
The world went white.
I peered out into the late afternoon sunshine. I’d only been gone about an hour.
I got up to go.
He checked the proximity alerts and opened the door. Fresh, woodland air flooded in. We walked to the door and looked out.
I didn’t dare look at him. I could feel him watching me. I was so desperately envious. He had it all ahead of him. I didn’t.
‘Well,’ I said, finally. ‘Nice to have met you, Leon.’
He said nothing.
I put out a hand. ‘And again, thank you.’
He took my hand very slowly in a strong, warm clasp, never taking his eyes from mine. I had to look away.
I thought he was going to speak, but he said nothing.
I took my hand back, drew a deep breath, and, still not looking at him, said, ‘Look after yourself, Leon.’
Just as I was stepping past him … Just when I thought I might be able to do this after all, he said, ‘Come away with me.’
I stopped dead.
‘What did you say?’
‘Come away with me. I don’t want to go back. You don’t have to go back. We have a pod. We can choose somewhere peaceful and quiet and make a life for ourselves. You didn’t think I was going to let you go, did you?’
I’d survived his death by feeling nothing. By shutting down. It’s what I do. And so the huge, hot, jagged pain coming from nowhere just about finished me. I couldn’t speak. Which was just as well, since I would have said yes. I had a brief vision of a life together. Laughing. Loving. No need for me to go back to old age and loneliness. We really could have the rest of our lives together.
I stared at the floor and shook my head.
‘Lucy …’
I shook my head again. I should have died in the Cretaceous. Nothing could be worse than this.
‘Lucy. Please.’
I couldn’t do it to him. I couldn’t deprive him of his future. I had to walk away and take the chance that he would survive this, stay at St Mary’s and – I hate this phrase – fulfil his destiny.
So I shook my head for the third time and stepped out of the pod. Back into my own time.
Without looking back at him, I started across the clearing.
‘Don’t leave me.’
I couldn’t bear the pain in his voice.