The Unlikely Time Traveller (13 page)

Soon as we stepped back into the kitchen, Ness waved us over. “More apples to fill,” she called out.

“Oh, what fun,” Robbie muttered.

Back we went to dicing prunes and stuffing apples. Robbie had the glummest face ever, and I tried to make up for him, smiling till my face hurt.

“This is going to be one amazing party,” I said.

Then Robbie leaned over and mumbled, “All the electricity’s kicking away now, eh?”

He was right. Ovens were on. Fans were whirring softly to keep us cool. “We have a power allocation for the harvest festival,” Ness explained again. “We save it up. Power, that you call electricity, is limited. But tonight all will be bright and wondrous.”

“It’s going to be great, Ness,” I said. But I could tell Robbie wasn’t listening. And he wasn’t concentrating on apples. He was looking over his shoulder, up to the ceiling and around the sides of the room. “Lost something, Robbie?” I asked under my breath.

He threw me his raised-eyebrow look, smiled, and went back to slowly placing chopped prunes into apples. “No worries, Saul.”

Whenever Robbie says that, it means the opposite.

He gave a massive sigh when the next ginormous tray
appeared in front of us. “Hey,” I nudged him. “Another million apples to fill with prunes, Robbie!”

He nodded, but then said he needed to go off somewhere quiet and practise his magic card trick. He’d brought the pack of cards with him, and was still planning to perform for Ness, and maybe for the crowd, later in the evening.

“Perhaps the hallway would be quiet?” said Ness, and in a flash he was off.

Then it was just me and Ness filling apples. “As you do see, Saul, from your visit to our time, our food takes much work.”

She wasn’t joking. And as we worked she talked quietly to me about how their school was only mornings, and most afternoons she helped out in the fields. Most evenings she mucked out the stables and fed the old horses.

It seemed like hard work. But she also talked about all the clever things they had to help them. Like I-bands, and the speak-and-seek discs. “These,” she said, “can be used for many tasks and distances. But we have nothing,” she whispered, leaning close, “to propel us back one hundred years, where,” she paused, then pulled back her sleeve, “it is now eleven in the morning.” She was wearing Robbie’s watch. She shook down her sleeve to hide it, and turned back to the apples.

“Talking of one hundred years ago,” I whispered, “we’re going back tonight after your speech.” She gasped but I quickly carried on. “We need to make a fire by the yew tree. I’m not exactly sure how, but we’ll be really careful. And can we borrow the glass swan in your house to make moon rainbows in the smoke? If it all works out, we should get back just a minute or two after eleven.”

“Then I wish you starlight speed,” she said. “The house
door is open to you. My mother and father will be here at the celebration. Take the swan of glass.”

I fumbled in my pockets. I could feel the gold bracelet in there, and the rubbish. I drew out the small round disc and handed it to her. “Thanks for this, the plums were, um… excellent.”

Silently she took the disc and, drawing her finger across the material of her sleeve, a tiny gap opened up. She slotted it in, then, with the same stroking movement, closed the gap. “Do not forget, Saul, I wish you to return something precious to the past. It has been too long lost.”

“What is it?” I asked.

But Ness just shook her head. “You will learn soon enough. I need it now for courage to speak in front of so many, then you may take it.” She sighed. “It is true what Grandmother did say – that if we are open in our heart, life is more magical than we can guess.” Ness smiled at me. “I know you did come to seek your friend. And you found me. For this I do thank Robbie.” We finished what must have been the sixth tray of apples. “We are a grand team, and you,” she said, “are a muckle worker.”

Just then a fiddle struck up. The apples were whisked away to cook in the ovens. A guitar joined the fiddle, and a drum, plus some round silvery instruments I didn’t recognise. Bright twinkling lights came on. People clapped, rose to their feet and cheered.

Work was over.

The party had begun.

“Here!” Ness threw me some kind of material. “Drape that about your shoulders and come join the festival.” It had threads of brown and green and pale yellow. There were some tassel things and weird flaps around the shoulders, and leather bands here and there. It was an amazing costume. I even got a long brown feather to tuck into a belt.

“I will be gone but a flash,” Ness said, and off she ran, leaving me trying to get my new outfit to hang straight.

The hall had erupted in noise, and streams of people, lots wearing the same sort of tasselled, flappy thing as me, were filing in, bowing away. Funny how you quickly take on new habits. I was bowing too. I recognised Scosha, even though she was wearing some kind of spectacular dress. It trailed the ground in swirls of red and brown and the sleeves went on forever. I had got so used to everyone in the onesie things it was weird to see they actually had other clothes. “The grand moment is with us now,” she said loudly above the hubbub. “Where is Ness?”

“She was here a minute ago.” I had to shout. “Maybe she’s getting changed. Robbie should be back with us soon too.”

“Ness works so hard. Perhaps along with her new crown of honour she could be given rest and travel,” said
Scosha, raising her eyebrows. “Ness loves adventures. Perhaps she could visit you?”

“Yeah,” I shouted, “maybe she could. I could tell her how to get there.”

Scosha grinned and shook back her long hair. “May I also visit?” She sidled up to me and winked. “She did tell me. Tis a miracle. A wonder.”

I had this vision of Ness and Scosha turning up one day in our wilderness garden beside the den, with their I-bands and their long hair. Then joining our gang and going to the cinema and wandering along the river with no boardwalk and no boats, and eating crisps and chocolate and playing on the Playstation, and going out on our bikes. Then maybe taking the hour-long bus to Edinburgh. Would they think we were really old-fashioned? Would they miss the Aqua Park, and going about on horses, and high-speed trains, and having to save up their electricity, and working in the fields? Would they wander onto the road and get knocked over by a car?

“You are in a dwam,” she said. “Look at you, dreaming of your own home.”

I snapped out of it, just in time to see Ness sweep through the hall. She had on a long green dress, or more like shimmery turquoise-green, a shade I never saw back in my century, and it was embroidered with small flowers. The back was dark blue, embroidered with silver stars. Then there was a long silver cloth that flowed from her shoulders and trailed behind her. She also had these long sleeves hiding her hands, like Scosha. I wondered if she was still secretly wearing Robbie’s watch. It was a stunning outfit.

“A fitting tribute to the goddess of the harvest,” Scosha said, bowing and clapping. “Radiant.” Others bowed too as Ness glided past.

The band struck up. I couldn’t see microphones but it sounded like the music was amplified, which was good seeing as the hall was huge. Folk took to the floor. Thousands of twinkling fairy lights, which didn’t seem to have any wires or cables, pulsed on and off like stars above us circling slowly about the ceiling. Bodies whirled, linking arms and turning each other. There were outfits like I had never seen before. Folk whooped and stamped the floor. Next thing someone took me by the arm and spun me round. I forgot all about Robbie. As I stomped up and down the hall with the music rocking, the lights twinkling, people dancing and the aroma of delicious food drifting in from the kitchen, I didn’t have a care in the world.

It was one of these dances where you keep changing partner. Suddenly there was Ness bowing to me. Then she swirled round so fast her dress billowed out. Her hair too. She opened her arms to the side and kept spinning. People circled her and clapped. The music got faster and Ness kept twirling. Then she stopped suddenly and smiled straight at me, not wobbling at all. People in the hall cheered. Then she took me by the arm and guided me through the packed hall. “This is the dance of return,” she said. “Danced so the seasons keep turning, and,” she lowered her voice, “for you, time traveller. For your safe return.”

“Thanks,” I said, worrying again about what we would need for a safe return. Fire was the tricky bit. It wasn’t even like we could put it out before we left. Ness had already done so much for us. Could I ask her to do this one last thing? I looked over at her, smiling away. Now the party had started, she looked less anxious.

“Ness,” I said, “listen… about us going.”

“I will never forget you.”

“About the fire,” I blurted out. I had to say it loudly
so she would hear me over the music. “I don’t want the horses to be freaked out. Thing is, we really need fire, not a big one, but we need all the elements, and smoke. I’ve got matches, but… it’s about putting the fire out… I mean, after we’ve gone.”

She stared at me. The music was loud. People stamped. Bodies spun. “It has to be that yew tree,” I went on, when she didn’t say anything.

She nodded. I could practically see her brain working things out. “Then perhaps,” she said, “I can stand by, and hold a flame torch, then plunge it into a water barrel.”

I felt relief wash through me. With Ness helping it would work. “If you’re sure,” I said, “but I don’t want to spoil your big night.” She took my hands.

“Twill be a muckle pleasure.” She led me onto the floor and we danced. It was a Strip the Willow. So that hadn’t changed. I knew what to do because we learnt it at school. People took me by the arm and spun me, then I kept returning to Ness. We danced up the line, people clapping on either side. “Once they crown me Fortune Lass,” she said as we locked arms and spun round, “and the speech has been spoken, we can slip out.” We lifted our arms into an arch for the lines of dancers to pass through. After the last couple passed she said, “When you return, tell people to share the fortune and not wound the earth.”

“Sure,” I said, clapping in time to the music, my costume bouncing up and down. I was imagining being back at school and telling Max to dig up his back garden and grow a few parsnips. “Anything else?”

“Tell them to keep dancing,” she said. The band played on. The lights twinkled. The dancers twirled.

Then the most muckle cheer erupted.

Food!

People hurried to take their seats at the great table. I sat next to Ness. Beside me a place had been set for Robbie, who, I imagined, was right now in a panic in some corridor, trying to get at least one card trick to work. But I forgot about Robbie because the band suddenly struck up as trays piled high with food were ceremoniously carried in. Everyone rose to their feet, bowing and cheering, like a celebrity was arriving.

“Pratakan,” said Ness, nudging me and licking her lips, “is excellent.”

It was. Pratakan is like a pie, with lots of vegetables and herbs and cheese inside. I finished way faster than anyone else, which gave me the chance to count people. First time I got five hundred and forty-seven. Second time more than six hundred, which is a big difference. Maybe more people turned up, or my maths was as bad as Robbie’s. So I got to wondering where he was again, and what would he think of Pratakan. Ness was piling up a plate for him. Every time I heard someone behind me I turned round, expecting him. Probably he had a packet of crisps stashed away and was tucking into it.

The next course was, you might say, primal – or, if you were a vegetarian, pretty gross. People wheeled great spits out from the kitchen where they must have been roasting
in huge ovens. I could make out a roasted pig, a sheep, a cow and something else that Ness said was a goat, and her favourite. They were all speared through the middle, and cooked. Ness said I should try roast goat with a parsnip buttery mash and an onion and red cabbage sweet jelly. She whipped up my plate and, even though she had this beautiful dress on, next thing I saw her with a knife slicing into the goat and heaping up food for me. Then she glided over to another table where there were huge bowls of side dishes. She came back with, “A dinner,” she whispered as she set it down in front of me, “that no time traveller could ever forget.”

She was right about that. It was like Christmas dinner, but even tastier. Ness ate without a word. She had looked forward to this for a long time. I gazed round at all the people, with their I-bands, their beautiful clothes, their rapt faces, eating. They had all been waiting for this feast – the harvest festival celebration. I knew that soon this future world would feel like a dream to me. I spotted Ness’s parents, all dressed up. Her dad was tucking in heartily; her mum was nibbling slowly and looked way too excited to eat. She kept glancing over at Ness, and she smiled at me. I smiled back, my cheeks bulging with mash.

“Where is your best friend?” Scosha asked. I felt a bit weird sitting next to an empty place, with precious food going cold.

“He’ll be here soon,” I said, then watched as the apruna was dished out.

Ness, being the Fortune Lass, was served first. The bramble ice-cream looked amazing. “Our work,” she said, winking at me, then she picked up her spoon and wedged it into the soft apple.

I did the same. I couldn’t believe how proud I felt, and
when I licked the first spoonful of apruna with bramble ice-cream it tasted like heaven. The sweetness exploded in my mouth. “I did tell you,” Ness said, grinning at me with purple lips. “Totally excellent, eh?”

It was, and I thought how I could make it for my mum and dad, and how Agnes would love it. Maybe we could have a midnight feast when we slept out for the Northern Lights, and eat apruna! We had brambles growing wild in the garden by our den. I could try and make the ice-cream too.

“Robbie will enjoy his feast after his magic trick.” Ness craned her head to look for him. Then said perhaps she should go and search. After all, he was her guest. But suddenly a bell sounded and the crowd all turned to face her.

“Words from the Fortune Lass,” I heard people murmur. Some cheered. Children in the crowd stamped their feet.

“Time for the speech!” a man called from the front. I glanced over to Ness, who was biting her lip and smoothing down her dress. I watched her slowly rise to her feet and make her way to the stage. So this was it!

Everyone moved excitedly forwards. I glanced round to see Scosha by my side, smiling nervously. “Let us find the best view.” She steered me through the crowd.

“The honours,” people murmured. “It is time for the honours.”

A hush fell. You could almost hear everyone breathe. The circling lights twinkled above. Warm air wafted from the vents and I could smell cake baking in the kitchen. The man up the front took a microphone – or I guessed that’s what the pencil thing was – and spoke about the harvest, and how hard the community worked this year growing food and he thanked everyone. And all the time Ness was standing at the side twisting her hands together.

Then he went on to thank the earth goddess, and how she would be honoured through garlanding the Lass of Fortune who would soon, he said, speak to us from the stage. Ness smiled nervously up at the man, who went on to say something else, but I couldn’t hear him. I saw his mouth move but could hardly hear a word. Then I couldn’t see him either because suddenly the place was plunged into darkness.

A shock wave surged through the crowd. “The power,” people murmured, then they cried out, “What is happening to the power?”

The man on stage shouted for everyone to remain calm. The floating lights fell to the floor. People in the crowd shrieked and ducked as they smashed. “The power is failing,” shouted Scosha. Children wailed. A woman next to me screamed.

“We had much allocation,” the man at the front shouted. “What did happen?”

Scosha, by my side, was practically weeping. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I whipped out my torch and ran. It lit my way through the screaming crowds, then up a narrow dark corridor. I had a pretty good idea who might take all the power. Why had I not thought of it before?

I pictured Ness in tears, her big day ruined. The community had been saving up their power for months, all for this big celebration. I patted walls. I banged on doors. “Robbie!” I yelled. I bumped into someone in the corridor. I reached out and grabbed at his sleeve. “Robbie,” I hissed, “for God’s sake!”

“Saul, it’s me!”

I jumped back and cried out in shock. “What?”

“Saul, it’s me. Agnes. I came after Robbie. I found his note.”