Lost in a Good Book

I thought quickly.

‘Er—no, Dad—sorry. They’d all sold out.’

There was another pause. Mum nudged her husband, who looked at her oddly. It looked as if she wanted him to say something.

‘Thursday,’ she began when it became obvious that Dad wasn’t going to take her cue, ‘your father and I think you should take some leave until our first grandchild is born. Somewhere safe. Somewhere other.’

‘Oh yes!’ added Dad with a start. ‘With Goliath, Aornis and Lavoisier after you, the herenow is not exactly the best place to be.’

‘I can look after myself.

‘I thought I could too,’ grumbled Lady Hamilton, gazing longingly at the cupboard where the cooking sherry was hidden.

‘I will get Landen back,’ I replied resolutely.

‘Perhaps now you might be physically up to it—but what happens in six months’ time? You need a break, Thursday, and you need to take it now. Of course, you must fight—but fight with a level playing field.’

‘Mum?’

‘It makes sense, darling.’

I rubbed my head and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. It did seem to be a good idea.

‘What have you in mind?’

Mum and Dad exchanged looks.

‘I could downstream you to the sixteenth century or something but good medical care would be hard to come by. Upstreaming is too risky—and besides, SO-12 would soon find you. No, if you’re going to go anywhere, it will have to be sideways.’

He came and sat down next to me.

‘Henshaw at SO-3 owes me a favour. Between the two of us we could slip you sideways into a world where Landen doesn’t drown aged two.’

‘You could?’ I replied, suddenly perking up.

‘Sure. But steady on. It’s not so simple. A lot will be… different.’

My euphoria was short lived. A prickle rose on my scalp.

‘How different?’

‘Very different. You won’t be in SO-27. In fact, there won’t be any SpecOps at all. The Second World War will finish in 1945 and the Crimean conflict won’t last much beyond 1854.’

‘I see. No Crimean war? Does that mean Anton will still be alive?’

‘It does.’

‘Then let’s do it, Dad.’

He laid a hand on mine and squeezed it.

‘There’s more. It’s your decision and you have to know precisely what is involved. Everything will be gone. All the work you’ve ever done, all the work you will do. There will be no dodos or Neanderthals, no Willspeak machines, no Gravitube —’

‘No Gravitube? How do people get around?’

‘In things called jetliners. Large passenger aircraft that can fly seven miles high at three-quarters of the speed of sound—some even faster.’

It was plainly a ridiculous idea and I told him.

‘I know it’s far-fetched, Sweetpea, but you’ll never know any different—the Gravitube will seem as impossible there as jetliners do here.’

‘What about mammoths?’

‘No—but there will be ducks.’

‘Goliath?’

‘Under a different name.’

I was quiet for a moment.

‘Will there be Jane Eyre?’

‘Yes,’ sighed my father. ‘Yes, there will always be Jane Eyre.’

‘And Turner? Will he still paint The Fighting Temeraire?’

‘Yes, and Carravaggggio will be there too, although his name will be spelt more sensibly.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’

My father was silent for a moment.

‘There’s a catch.’

‘What sort of catch?’

He sighed.

‘Landen will be back but you and he won’t have met. Landen won’t even know you.’

‘But I’ll know him. I can introduce myself can’t I?’

‘Thursday, you’re not part of this. You’re outside of it. You’ll still be carrying Landen’s child but you won’t know the sideslip has ever happened. You will remember nothing about your old life. If you want to go sideways to see him then you’ll have to have a new past and a new present. Perversely enough, to be able to see him, you cannot have any recollection of him—nor he of you.’

‘That’s some catch,’ I observed.

‘It’s the second best there is,’ Dad agreed.

I thought for a moment.

‘So I won’t be in love with him?’

‘I’m afraid not. You might have a small residual memory—feelings that you can’t explain for someone you’ve never met.’

‘Will I be confused?’

‘Yes.’

He looked at me with an earnest expression. They all did. Even Lady Hamilton, who had been moving quietly towards the sherry, stopped and was staring at me. It was clear that making myself scarce was something I had to do But having zero recollection of Landen? I didn’t really have to think very hard.

‘No, Dad. Thanks, but no thanks.’

‘I don’t think you understand,’ he intoned, using his paternal go-to-your-room-young-lady voice. ‘In a year’s time you can come back and everything will be as right as—’

‘No. I’m not losing any more of Landen than I have already.’

I had an idea.

‘Besides, I do have somewhere I can go.’

‘Where?’ enquired my father. ‘Where could you possibly go that Lavoisier couldn’t find you? Backward, forward, sideways, otherways—there isn’t anywhere else!’

I smiled.

‘You’re wrong, Dad. There is somewhere. A place where no one will ever find me—not even you.’

‘Sweetpea—!’ he implored. ‘It is imperative that you take this seriously! Where will you go?’

I replied slowly, ‘I’ll just lose myself in a good book.’

Despite their pleading I bade farewell to Mum, Dad and Lady Hamilton, crept out of the house and sped to my apartment on Joffy’s motorbike I parked outside the front door in clear defiance of the Goliath and SpecOps agents who were still waiting for me. I ambled slowly in, it would take them twenty minutes or more to report to base and then get up the stairs and break down the door—and I really only needed to pack a few things. I still had my memories of Landen and they would sustain me until I got him back. Because I would