I had to do something or he wasn’t going to make it. He’d been at the end of his rope when I met him and I’d just made things even worse.
I turned back to him, clutched at his greens, shook him slightly and said harshly, ‘Listen to me, Leon. Listen to me now, because this is the most important thing you will ever hear. I will always come for you. No matter how bad things seem, I always come for you. Remember that.’
My words rang around the clearing.
For a long time nothing happened. If he’d heard me, the words hadn’t gone in.
He covered my hands with his own and we looked at each other for a long time.
‘You really are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’
And that was the moment I took, pinned over my heart and wore like a badge to the end of my days.
Gently, I took back my hands, walked away, and stood at the edge of the clearing with my back to him. After a long while, I heard the door close.
I turned around and stared at the pod, small and squat at the edge of the clearing. The pod stared back. Nothing happened.
I knew what he was doing. He was watching me through the screen. I put one hand on a tree trunk for support and stared back.
Around me, birds sang and golden sunlight filtered through the trees. Still the pod didn’t move. Neither would I. I wouldn’t leave until he did.
We stared at each other across the clearing.
I woke up. For God’s sake, what did I think I was doing? We could be together. Neither of us ever had to be alone again. Sod the time continuum. Sod History. Sod everything. We were two people who’d suffered enough. Let someone else take the strain. I would do it. I would go with him.
And then, just as I took a step towards the pod, just as I raised my arm to wave, just as I drew a breath to call out, to tell him I’d go with him, that I would be with him for ever, the pod blinked out of existence and I was alone.
The next hour was not good.
The evening shadows were lengthening as I made my way back to St Mary’s, very carefully not thinking about certain things. I’d made the right decision. I’d nearly made the wrong decision and if he turned up right now and asked me again, I’d probably nearly make the wrong decision again. I’ve broken shedloads of rules throughout my life, but never come so close to catastrophe before. And who would ever have thought it would have been at Leon’s instigation? He was – always had been – so quiet, so law-abiding, so conventional …
I woke up.
No, he wasn’t.
He’d helped me cheat in my Outdoor Survival Exam. He’d brought a Maglite to sixteenth-century Edinburgh – which, admittedly, had been a big help, but nevertheless – He’d thrown me across the bonnet of his car and right there and then, in public … And at Troy, he’d tried to break the biggest rule of all. He was quiet, but he was passionate and he’d loved Helios like a son …
I was once in eleventh-century London, observing Westminster Abbey being built and a ten-ton block of stone had dropped out of the sky, missing Peterson and me by inches. I felt exactly the same way now. Something huge had fallen on me. An enormous revelation. How could I ever have missed it?
And now, what was I going to do about it?
I didn’t run, because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I let myself into St Mary’s and, using the backstairs, made my way to my room. My instinct was to get to the pub as soon as possible, but that was ridiculous. I made myself slow down, shower, and change into civvies.
It was a lovely evening and on any other occasion, I would have enjoyed the stroll down to the village.
Reaching The Falconberg Arms, I walked into the bar. There were only a few customers. I got myself a drink and then said to the barmaid, ‘Is Joe in?’
She nodded over her shoulder. ‘In his office, doing his accounts.’
‘Oh.’
‘No, go on in. He always welcomes distractions when he’s struggling with his spreadsheets.’
I walked slowly down the passageway. His door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stood on the threshold.
Joe Nelson was bashing away at a calculator. He looked up.
‘Dr Maxwell – good to see you again. Can I help you? Come in.’
I pushed the door shut behind me, crossed to his desk, and sat down.
‘Hello, Helios.’
Chapter Nineteen
I don’t know how I could ever have missed it.
Joe Nelson. Short, stocky, thick dark hair, Dumbo ears and – for heaven’s sake – that sickle-shaped scar on his cheekbone. Again, I saw Helios, terrified, traumatised, bleeding, arms and legs clamped around Leon, clinging on for dear life. How could I not have seen it?
He put down his pen and pushed his chair back from his desk. Was he getting ready to run for it?
‘Sit tight, Joe,’ I said. ‘Where would you go?’
‘True,’ he said.
We stared at each other for a while.
‘How long have you known?’
‘About thirty-five minutes.’
He regarded me warily. I wondered how much he actually remembered. Did he remember the shouting? Did he remember what I’d said?