The Time Rip (14 page)

An image of herself, sprawled on his bed, flashed across her mind and anger burned brightly. With it, she managed to get her shocked brain to function once more. It occurred to her that the mobile phone he had taken from his coat pocket had been responsible for transporting them here.

His words should have been incredible, but Freya had already let go of her reason when she had taken her accounts to him. He obviously did not know about the time doorway and thought she was using a device like his one. Ha! A lot you know, she thought, and if the rat intended to leave her stranded in 1908 he was in for a surprise.

He was far too good looking, stalking her across the room like some avenging angel, but although a separate part of her mind appreciated his beauty, Freya’s temper was easily winning against desire at this point.

He had kissed all sense from her and she had let him. Shame over her behaviour streaked through her, and mixed with anger and something worse. Of
course
he wouldn’t really be interested in someone like her. He was beautiful and she was
—
well, average.

The worst thing was that he must have known how she felt about him. He had coldly been searching her for this time device thing, while her mind had been on other matters. She scowled at him. His apparent calm only seemed to make him look more dangerous, but Freya was fed up with his arrogance and more than ready for an argument.

It was obvious that while her feelings were in chaos she would never best him. If she could wind him up, he would be thinking less clearly and she would stand a better chance of out manoeuvring him. She tried to think how to anger him but had a feeling it would not be easy. At least she had the time doorway. As long as he was unaware of its existence, she would be miles ahead of him.

He had backed her right up to the wall and she had to look up to meet his eyes. Without her heels she felt defenceless, insecure, next to his tall solid frame. Her hands clenched to tight fists at her sides. Watching as his mouth curved into a smile, she burned with a horrible conglomeration of anger, desire and resentment.

“I don’t have it on me,” she tried.

His eyes glinted as he scanned her, coming back to rest on her flushed face. “Yes, it is rather obvious that you do not have it on you. Now, where is it?”

Freya inhaled sharply as rage consumed her, arresting all other thoughts. The rat was going to get the shock of his lifetime. Everything was suddenly bright, clear, and an idea formed in her mind. She put her head on one side as she considered him.

“If I tell you where it is, will you answer a question I have about it?”

“Tell me where it is and I might answer your question.”

She watched his mouth curve in a smile that spoke of victory and her eyes narrowed. “No. Answer the question first.”

“What is it you wish to know?”

Freya stiffened her spine and met him look for look. “When you travel, can you come back to the same moment you left, or does time continue while you are away?” She caught the glint in his eyes as he considered her question, and hoped to God she had not given too much away.

“Why do you want to know that? Do you think to send me on some wild goose chase while you make your escape? Where did you get your device from anyway? I wish you will tell me if you are in some kind of trouble. I can help you.”

How did he get so close? “Just answer the question.” She made her voice as cold as she could manage.

He stared at her intently until she felt light-headed enough to press her palms into the wall behind her. She was almost sure he would not answer; then, “Time does, of course, continue when you leave a place, but it is possible to come back shortly afterward. It is difficult to get pinpoint accuracy, and the closest most have managed to return is about fifteen to twenty minutes after the time of leaving. However, some places are
consistently monitored to allow for greater accuracy.”

It would not take her five minutes to run out to the time doorway. She suppressed the feeling of triumph his words caused in case he guessed something of her train of thought.

“Now, I believe you are going to tell me where your time device is.”

“If I tell you, will you take me back to 2008?”

He smiled and rubbed her shoulder gently as if to offer comfort; reassurance. “Of course.”

He seemed sincere and, as far as she could tell, had no reason to keep her here, but she still could not shake the impression he was lying. Freya took a breath and let it out. She looked him dead in the eye, “It’s in the glove box of my Transit van on Portobello Road.”

“Thank you.” His hand slid down her arm to her elbow, and then he was pulling her across the room towards the bed. She stumbled after him on shaking legs. Before she could ask what he was doing, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his coat pocket and cuffed her injured wrist to the top of the metal bed frame.

Freya gasped in shock. “What now? What the hell are you doing?”

“Just making sure you stay put. If you have lied to me, Freya, I will take you directly to the courts in 2112 and leave them to deal with you as they see fit. Now tell me the exact location of your van and I’ll be back with some dry clothes for you shortly.” He gathered up the rest of her clothes, and turned to face her once more.

Freya burned with the impossible injustice of it all and clenched her fists in anger, refusing to answer. Let him find the van himself. She was not going to give him any help. Jeremy took in her expression as they stared at each other in silence for a few moments. He shook his head as he left the room. It would not make any difference how long it took him to locate her van. He would still be back here within twenty minutes.

As it happened, it did not take Jeremy long to find Freya’s van. There were not that many flower stalls in the market and only one van with her name emblazoned on the side in pink lettering surrounded by flowers.

An Italian man was serving a woman who was buying roses. He spoke volubly, throwing his hands up at the story the woman was telling him. Jeremy watched as the man served someone else on the neighbouring stall. He had to be a friend watching out for Freya. Jeremy considered his strategy before going up to greet the man.

“Hello, my friend, and what can I get for you today,” Gus said.

“Hello. I’m looking for Freya’s stall, have I the right place?”

“Yes, of course, but I’m afraid she is on break at this moment. Can I be of assistance?”

Jeremy held out his hand, “Jeremy Sanders,” he said.

“Giuseppe Celino. You are friend of hers?

“Yes, I am afraid she has been taken unwell. She asked me to pack up her stall for her.” He pulled her keys from his pocket as he spoke.

“Ah, I am sorry to hear of it. What happened to her?”

“Nothing to worry about. She fell and has a suspected fracture in her wrist. She phoned me from the A&E to ask if I would help her out.”

“Ah, I am so sorry. I call her tomorrow to see how she is. It is only some few buckets of flowers here. You leave them with me and I sell what I can for her.”

“I am sure she will greatly appreciate it. She asked if I would collect her and drive her home in her van. I think she was concerned that she may not be able to manage without power steering.”

“Ah, she should have better van, no? Please pass my sympathies to her.”

Jeremy spent the next few minutes chatting and generally gleaning what information he could from the man. Eventually, he let himself into her van and leaned across to open the glove box, pulling out all the junk onto the passenger seat.

There was no device. He sighed softly. Making a thorough search of the van would have to wait. He would drive the van back to her flat and do his searching there, away from her friend’s watchful eyes.

As old and rusted as the van clearly was, it was still a pleasure to drive. Jeremy took it slowly at first, getting the feel of the archaic machine. London was something of a nightmare to negotiate. The traffic appeared to be a free for all for the most part, and he was grateful for his time device, which he used to help him navigate.

By 2090, large areas of London were clear of cars and only electric trams and bicycles remained. It was surreal to be able to drive past the ancient buildings, and he found himself continually distracted. The smell of the fumes was overpowering and he had to close the windows, but revelled in the funny handles that worked the mechanism. It was just as well the traffic was crawling though, because it took him some time to accustom himself to the old technology.

He had taken driving lessons as part of his skill sets for becoming a Field Operative, but the majority of the public did not drive. There were cars, but they were all automatic and pre-programmed to set routes. You paid your money at the meter, climbed in and the car took you at a steady 30KH to the pre-set destination.

With no steering wheel or pedals, most people had abandoned the idea in favour of bicycles. You might be restricted to slower speeds, but at least you still had the fun of being in full control of where you wanted to go.

Of course, people could still drive off-road on racing tracks, and with so few people driving, the ones that took up the sport were either viewed as crazy or revered as Gods. So to be able to drive yourself at twice the usual permitted speed on London roads was an incredible experience.

When he reached the motorway, it took all his nerve to merge with the traffic and drive at the required speed. Nevertheless, the rush had him wondering if he had picked the wrong century to work in. He was not altogether sorry to reach the street where Freya lived and, parking outside, he began his search.

The device was not in the van; he slammed the door and made for the flat. He could question Freya further, but he dismissed the idea for now. She was not going anywhere. He would search the flat again first.

He let himself in, this time using her keys, and began to search. A few hours later, he stood frowning in the small space. The device was not here, in her van or on her person, he had searched all thoroughly.

He considered again all he knew of her. She had been running from someone today. Perhaps that person had already taken the device from her. Then there was the fact that not only had she brought her accounts to him the day before, but also carelessly left her diary in his kitchen.

He had to consider the possibility that she had used the device unknowingly. It would explain why she had been unable to return home that night. It was also possible that she had returned the device to whoever had owned it, having never known it was responsible for her being able to visit him.

Jeremy was now certain she had told him the device was in her van simply to get rid of him so she could try to escape. She had clearly not expected him to handcuff her to the bed frame. He considered his options. He had not lied to her when he had said it would most likely take him twenty minutes to return.

He remembered his crack about taking her to the courts and flinched. She would now be extremely frightened. A situation he had feared might be the upshot of his dealing with her when he had spoken to Greg the day before. He sighed and wondered how he was to not only calm her down, but also gain enough of her trust to get the true story of what had happened from her.

There was a good reason for Matt taking on the job of investigating possible suspects and Jeremy transporting them. He shook his head and flipped open his time device.

Freya watched him go, utterly dumbfounded. What did he mean by the courts in 2112? What had she got herself into? Suddenly her plan to wind him up did not seem so smart, not that she had managed to anyway.

From the silence in the house, she guessed he had gone to check her van for the device. That meant she had twenty minutes at the most to escape from the cuffs and get away from here.

His threat about taking her to some court in the future scared the hell out of her. All this time she had thought she was the one from the future, and now it was looking like the other way around.