An Untimely Romance: A Time Travel Romance (7 page)

“I’ve got ya case.
Follow me.”

The trees were quite
dense, or so she thought, but on passing between them, just behind Ruben, they
opened out into a grassy glade.

“Stop ... close your
eyes,” Ruben instructed, placing his suitcase on the ground.

He took her hand in
his, and after walking only a few steps, the breeze danced against her face and
the trees rustled, whispering their secrets.

“Okay, you can look
now.”

She opened her eyes in
anticipation, and unfortunately was met by a bright yellow Mini Cooper. Ruben
watched her expression.

“Now, look up...”

It was certainly
different, almost magical,

“Ruben, it’s like something
out of a fairytale!” Heather said in awe, kissing him on the cheek.

It stood at least
twenty feet or so in the air, sheltered by leafy attire from the trees’
overladen branches, a perfect hideaway.
How romantic
, she thought.

“It’s a tree house,”
she said.

But not the sort you’d
see in a child’s back garden.

“Yes, Heather, they’re
unique. My father owns the company where they are made in Germany. They were
all brought over by freight line, as flat packs. There are seven scattered
around these parts. Dad’s found it to be a good little earner. But this one is
for our own personal use, and we only rent it to friends and family.”

The base of the
structure was cut into the surrounding trees, or wooden stanchions were used
where needed. Natural and Eco-friendly, it was perfect. Dome-shaped, with an
outer structure of light wooden beams, it had its own gated veranda for
alfresco dining, and as she looked closer, Heather could see a small table with
four chairs, accessed by a very rickety-looking spiral staircase.

“Oh, Ruben...”

But the words to follow
never came.

“Ruben!”

She heard a voice
coming from the veranda, and saw a woman waving her arms.

“Hi, guys!”

“Ya did well getting
here before us!” he shouted up. “Got ya text in time to pick up ya cigs.”

“You’re a lifesaver!”
she shouted back, making her way down the staircase.

Heather recognised her
immediately as the over-friendly redhead from the pub.

“What’s
she
doing here?” she whispered.

“What do you think?
Keeping Frank company, of course. Beth and me go back a long way, best mates,
see her and her kids all the time. Dad usually invites ’em round at Christmas.
Sure she’ll find many ways to occupy our Frank with her womanly charms.” He
winked.

“Hi, Heather, heard
lots about you,” Beth said as she approached, throwing her arms around
Heather’s neck.

Her hair, thick and resting
neatly on her shoulders, smelt of stale smoke. She had quite a ruddy
complexion, with intermittent freckles, and deep-brown eyes. Although Heather
didn’t like admitting it to herself, she was actually quite attractive,
although she looked a lot older close up.

“We’ve been here for
about an hour. I took Frank shopping; someone needed to dress him, so thought
it may as well be me,” Beth said, walking towards her car. “Got some food in as
well.” She opened the boot. “If you’ve got a hand free, grab a bag.”

With suitcases and bags
in hand, they all headed up the spiral staircase and onto the decked veranda.

“We haven’t got long,”
Ruben said, looking at his watch. “Got sumat planned in about forty minutes.
It’s going to be a case of dropping the bags off and going straight out.”

The glass patio door
stood open invitingly.

“This really is
amazing,” Heather said, stepping inside to a warm woody essence.

The open-plan interior
was spacious, with two doors leading off into separate rooms. The furnishings
were all carved from wood, and she noticed a small dining table and chairs at
the far end nearest the kitchen area. Her eyes were drawn back to a bench-style
settee, which sat comfortably between three large windows, through which she
could see they were surrounded by panoramic views like on a picture postcard.
With the exception of Frank, who was lying fast asleep, with his mouth wide
open.

“You’ve done a bloody
good job on him, Beth!” Ruben laughed.

They could see that
Beth had made a real effort to bring their peculiar friend into the
twenty-first century.

“You’re joking, aren’t
you? He wouldn’t try on any of the clothes I picked out for him.”

Heather looked Beth up
and down.
Not surprising
, she thought. She didn’t look as though she had
a particular eye for fashion herself, in a pair of loose-fitting jeans, creased
from the journey, and an insipid pink off-the-shoulder top that did her no
favours.

“Well, it’s an
improvement anyway,” Heather sniggered.

Frank certainly looked
very comfortable lying in his new ensemble, a cream V-neck cardigan, and casual
trousers in a shade or two darker.

“All he’s done is
sleep,” Beth said, emptying one of the shopping bags onto a wooden counter next
to the sink.

“Ha! Perfect chaperone,
eh, Heather?” Ruben gloated, tapping her perky rear. “Anyway, got to make
tracks...”

“What about Frank?”
Beth moved forward, intending to wake him.

“No, no, leave him,”
Ruben interrupted, grabbing her arm. “He looks so comfortable, and must be
shattered from the journey. Come on,” he whispered, taking Heather’s hand.

Beth offered to drive,
and without being told where they were going, she just seemed to know.
Funny
that
, Heather thought. Within half an hour they were boarding a steam
train, heading for Snowdon’s summit in their own private carriage.

“You’ll love this,
Heather,” Beth said, taking a seat.

The carriage felt cold.
Its interior was of dark wood, with two padded bench-like seats facing each
other, covered in red and gold patterned upholstery.

“Have you been here
before?” a puzzled Heather questioned as she sat down.

“Used to come here all
the time, didn’t we, Red?” Ruben said, smiling at Beth.

It even seemed that
he’d given her a nickname. Heather started to feel quite uneasy as Beth and
Ruben chatted and laughed about past experiences they had shared. Instead of
feeling like Ruben’s girlfriend, she ended up feeling more like she was playing
gooseberry. Losing interest in their conversation, she looked out of the window
as the train began its incline up the mountain. She blanked them out, listening
instead to an informative historical commentary through the in-carriage
speakers. As they set off, the sun shone and the sky was a perfect blue. She
could see for miles. The train’s speed never really picked up, and she thought
she could have walked as fast, but on the plus side, it gave her ample time to
take in the mountainous terrain and surreal views, absorbing, albeit out of
boredom, the commentary as it continued to inform her of the myths and legends
surrounding Snowdon.

Pulled back into the
conversation, she felt Ruben place his arm around her shoulder.

“Don’t mind, do you,
girl?” he asked.

Startled, Heather
answered, “No, no, of course not.”

“Aw, fab. What’s the
dress code?” Beth enquired.

Before she could
answer, and saving her from embarrassment, Ruben butted in. “Got Heather a
special dress for the evening from Caroline’s. It’s going to be a big do from
what Walter said.”

In an instant, it all
became so clear, too clear in fact. Heather had just unknowingly invited Beth
to her eighteenth.
Great
, she thought. She would have to be blind not to
see their touchy feely body language, and the looks that passed between them.
And although Ruben looked at her, he’d never seemed to look at her in quite
that way before.

“So, how did you two
meet?” Heather enquired.

Beth looked awkwardly
at Ruben.

“I take care of
Angela,” she said.

“Who?”

Ruben’s expression
changed and his face hardened.

“Beth’s a family
friend, Heather, that’s all you need to know,” he snapped.

“Oi!” Beth said as she
leant forward, slapping Ruben on the leg. “Enough of that!” she scolded,
jumping to Heather’s defence. “She’ll find out sooner or later anyway.”

“Yeah, I know that
Beth, but not this weekend.”

Crossing his arms and
shuffling in his seat, Ruben looked out of the window, avoiding their gaze.
Heather couldn’t help but notice his good looks, his profile enhanced by the
natural light streaming in through the windows, which picked up the brilliance of
his green eyes and long spidery lashes. The small amount of blonde stubble on
his chin was only just visible, but she thought it looked kind of sexy. As
their journey continued, the high altitude brought with it thickening clouds,
masking the glorious scenery now lost somewhere in a misty drizzle.

This gave Heather and
Beth a chance to become better acquainted.

“So, Beth, how many
kids ya got?” Heather asked, looking closely at Beth’s oval face and
scrutinising for any flaws.

Her skin looked quite
dry and flaky, dehydrated almost, especially her cheeks, with pinkish veins
running between her freckles.
She hasn’t aged well
, Heather thought. But
she really was difficult to age, especially when Heather noticed more than a
few lines around her eyes and surprisingly her mouth as well, but then she was
a smoker. She wasn’t unattractive, but definitely looked better from a
distance.

“Three, and they’re
bloody hard work. Ben, he’s five, not too bad to be honest, well, not at the
moment anyway. Chloe’s ten and a terror, and Lilly’s my eldest, fifteen going
on twenty-five. Trying to set boundaries now so she doesn’t make the same
stupid mistakes I did at her age.”

Surprised, Heather
said, “You’ve never got a fifteen year old? She’s only a couple of years
younger than me ... you don’t look old enough.” Feeling relieved that Beth was
obviously in her thirties, Heather believed this made her less of a threat and
more of a motherly figure. She’d obviously misconstrued their body language
earlier and had absolutely nothing to worry about.

The conversation
flowed, and by the time the train pulled into their checkpoint at the summit,
Heather knew all there was to know about Beth’s children, from birth onwards.

A man’s voice came over
the speaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen.
We’ll be starting our descent in approximately half an hour, so make sure to be
back on-board in good time. In the meantime, feel free to stretch your legs and
visit our gift shop or café for light refreshments.”

Anything but happy with
Ruben’s attitude and having quite her fill of kids, in fact enough to last her
a lifetime, Heather decided not to venture out, and just to sit in peace and
quiet, and gather her thoughts. She watched the departing passengers leaving
the train, joined by Ruben and Beth, who walked off in separate directions. She
wondered if Ruben had managed to get under Beth’s skin also. Heather was quite
disappointed as she looked out of the large windows and saw that the panoramic
views from earlier were now cloaked in murky rainclouds.

By now, all the
passengers had vacated the train. She couldn’t really see where they had
headed, but within moments of their departure, it was as if they’d evaporated,
sucked into the mountain’s hanging mists. She sat in a strange sort of silence
after the melodious sound of the steam engine and the continuous conversation
on the way up. It was actually quite unnerving, and she felt very much alone.
She reached for a magazine directly under the window from a built-in rack,
which depicted all the best sights and attractions around Snowdonia. She read
the odd snippet, but soon got bored and so ended up skimming the pages, paying
more attention to the pictures. She was suddenly interrupted, she assumed by
either Beth or Ruben’s return. Instead, it was a young boy of around seven,
quite scruffily dressed and not overly clean. His face looked incredibly pale,
with dirt ingrained into his pores, giving him an almost two-tone appearance.
He didn’t speak, and just sat down, almost squashed against the door.

“Excuse me, have you
lost your parents?” Heather asked.

The boy never answered,
and didn’t even acknowledge Heather’s words. He just sat in silence.

“I think you’re in the
wrong carriage,” she said, trying to prompt some kind of response.

The boy lifted his head
slightly, and she saw that his eyes were dark and held no emotion. Yet as he
studied Heather, his gaze became a stare, his eyes set, and he never blinked,
not once. Then a humming sound broke the silence, a raspy vibration coming from
between his closed lips. Although not exactly in tune, Heather could tell it
was a nursery rhyme, one that she knew she’d heard before. His voice grew in
volume until it emulated around the carriage, and madness lingered in his
deadpan eyes.

Heather stood and
walked towards the boy, grasping his hands. They were icy-cold.

“Right, I think it’s
time we found your mother.” 

She tried to pull him
up, but he was like a dead weight, unmovable. She noticed deepening black
tinges to his skin and raised circular markings on his wrists that were making
their way up his inner arms.

“My God, are you okay?”
she said, leaning forward, inches from his face.

She noticed his lips
had an unhealthy blue tinge, and his breath held a strong odour. She sniffed,
trying to place it. Roses came to mind, but how was that possible?

The boy stopped humming
immediately and began to wail.

“I’m going to get help.
You stay there.” Heather panicked, and feeling distressed, she ran from the
carriage, returning only moments later with a staff member.

Gasping, she insisted,
“He was right there, sitting there.” She pointed, fearing for the boy’s safety.