was willing to sacrifice herself, to bring Shackleton back from the year 2000, to make him risk life and limb for her, exactly as Claire was hoping. That was the only thing that would completely atone for his wrongdoing. But it was also the one thing he was powerless to do.
He was reflecting about this when, to his astonishment, he caught sight of her under the oak tree. He stopped in his tracks, stunned. Incredible as it seemed, Claire was there, at the foot of the tree, shielding herself from the sun with the parasol he had travelled through time to bring her. He also glimpsed the coach at the bottom of the hill, the coachman nodding off on the box. He quickly hid behind some bushes before one or other of them sensed his presence. He wondered what Claire was doing there, but the answer was obvious. She was waiting for him – or, rather, she was waiting for Shackleton to step through a hole in the air from the year 2000. Unable to resign herself to living without him, the girl had decided to act, to defy fate, and what simpler way of doing so than by going to the place where the captain emerged to collect her letters? Desperation had compelled Claire to make a move that infringed the rules of the game. And, watching her from behind the bushes, Tom kicked himself for not having foreseen this possibility, especially as she had given him ample proof of her courage and intelligence.
He remained in hiding almost the entire morning, watching gloomily as she circled the oak tree, until finally she grew tired, climbed into her carriage and went back to London. Then Tom emerged from his hiding-place, left the letter under the stone and made his own way back to the city. As he walked, he remembered the tormented words Wells had used to end his final letter:
A terrible sorrow overwhelms me when I realise this is the last letter I am going to write you, my love. You yourself told me it was, and I believe you are right about that, too. I would love nothing more than for us to go on writing to one another until we meet next May. However, if there is one thing I have learned from all this, it is that the future is predestined, and you have already experienced it. And so I can only suppose something will happen to stop me sending you more letters; possibly use of the machine will be banned and my hitherto unsuccessful mission called off.
I feel torn, as I am sure you can imagine: on the one hand, I am happy to know that for me this is not a last farewell, for I shall see you again very soon; on the other, my heart breaks when I think that you will never hear from me again. But this does not mean my love for you will die. It will live, Claire, I promise you, for one thing I am sure of is my love for you. I shall carry on loving you from my flowerless world.
D
Tears rolling down her cheeks, Claire sat at her desk, took a deep breath and dipped her pen into the inkwell.
This, too, is my last letter, my love, and although I would like to begin by telling you how much I love you, I must be honest with myself and confess to you shamefacedly that a few days ago I did a reckless thing. Yes, Derek, apparently I am not as strong as I thought, and I went to the oak tree to wait for you to appear. Living without you is too painful. I needed to see you, even if it altered the fabric of time. I waited all morning, but you did not come, and I could not escape my mother’s watchful eye any longer. It is difficult enough not to arouse Peter the coachman’s suspicions. He already looks at me strangely each time I ask him to take me there, but has so far kept my secret from my mother. How do you suppose he would have reacted if he had seen you step out of the oak tree as if by magic? I expect they would have discovered everything and it would have caused some sort of disaster in time.
I realise now it was foolish and irresponsible of me. Yes, for even if Peter had seen nothing, our impromptu meeting would still have changed the fabric of time. You would not see me for the first time on 20 May in the year 2000, and everything would instantly turn upside down, and nothing would happen as it is meant to. But luckily, although I would have liked nothing more, you did not appear, and so there is nothing to regret. I imagine you arrived in the afternoon, for the next day your beautiful, final letter was there.
I hope you can forgive my foolishness, Derek, which I am confessing to you because I do not wish to hide any of my faults from you. And in the hope of moving you to forgive me still further, I am sending you a gift from the bottom of my heart, so that you will know what a flower is.
After writing this, she stood up, took her copy of The Time Machine from the bookshelf, opened it and removed the narcissus she had pressed between its pages. When she had finished the letter, she touched the delicate petals to her lips and carefully slid the flower into the envelope.
Peter asked no questions this time either. Without waiting for her to tell him, he set off for Harrow-on-the-Hill. When they arrived, Claire walked up to the oak tree and discreetly hid the letter under the stone. Then she glanced around at the landscape, aware of saying goodbye to the place that had been the setting for her happiness those past few days, to those peaceful meadows, vibrantly green in the morning sun, to the distant cornfields, a streak of gold marking the horizon. She gazed at John Peachey’s headstone, and wondered what sort of life this stranger had lived, whether he had known true love or died without experiencing it.
She took a deep breath, and almost thought she could perceive her beloved Derek’s scent, as though his numerous appearances had left a trace behind in that sacred place. It was all in her imagination, she said to herself, the result of her desperate longing to see him. And she must accept reality. She must prepare to spend the rest of her life without him, to be content to listen out for the echo of his love resonating from the other side of time, for possibly she would never see him again. That afternoon, or tomorrow, or the next day, an invisible hand would seize her last letter, and after that there would be no others, only solitude unfurling at her feet like a carpet stretching to infinity.
She returned to the carriage and climbed in without giving Peter any order. With a resigned look, the coachman set off for London as soon as she was comfortably seated.
Once the carriage had vanished into the distance, Tom lowered himself from the branch he had clambered on to and dropped to the ground. From there he had been able to see her for the last time; he could even have touched her just by stretching out his hand, but he had not allowed himself to do so. And now, having indulged his whim, he must never go near her again. He took the letter from under the stone, leaned against the tree and began reading, a pained expression on his face.
As you rightly imagined, Derek, they will soon prohibit the use of the machine. There will be no more journeys through time for you until you defeat the evil Solomon. After that, you will decide to risk your life by secretly using the machine to travel to my time. But let us not get ahead of ourselves: let me at last tell you about our first meeting and what you must do afterwards.
As I told you, it will take place on 20 May in the year 2000. That morning, you and your men will mount a surprise attack on Solomon. At first glance, and despite the astute positioning of your men, you will not come out of the skirmish with the upper hand, but have no fear, for at the end of it Solomon will suggest resolving the conflict with a sword fight. Accept his offer without hesitation, for you will win the duel. You will be a hero, and this combat, which puts an end to the automatons’ supremacy over the human race, will be hailed as the dawn of a new era, so much so that it will be regarded as a perfect tourist destination for time travellers from my era, who will eagerly flock there to witness it.
I will go on one of those trips and, concealed behind a pile of rubble, I will watch you fight Solomon, but when the duel is over, instead of going back with the others, I will hide among the ruins, intending to stay in your world because, as you know, my own holds no attraction for me. Yes, thanks to the dissatisfaction that has dogged me all my life, and which I never suspected would lead to anything, you and I will meet.
I must warn you, though, that our meeting will not be as romantic as it ought to have been; on the contrary, it will be rather embarrassing, particularly for you, Derek, and recalling it still brings a smile to my lips. But I suppose I should say no more about your indecorous behaviour, as I can only assume it would influence your actions. All you need to know is that, during our brief encounter, I will drop my parasol, and although you will travel across time in order to meet me and make love to me, returning it will be the excuse you give so that I agree to
