Chasing Stars (6 page)

Chapter 4

As soon as I set foot back on the mainland, I began to breathe more easily. Lauren’s presence – however random – had transformed the islands from a subtropical paradise into a trap. The feeling of relief was short-lived.

‘She knows where I live,’ I said, as Ryan unlocked the car.

‘You’re not going home.’

The
Scillonion
hadn’t sailed until late in the afternoon; it was now early evening. We would need to eat soon and find somewhere to sleep.

‘So . . . are we going to the farmhouse?’ I asked.

‘Just to pick up some cash. We have to stay away from anywhere she could trace us to. We’re not taking any chances.’ He reversed out of the parking space and pulled on to the main road.

‘Where will we stay?’

‘Another B&B. Just till we’re sure she’s gone.’

The further we were from the dock, the better I felt. I leant back against the headrest and shut my eyes. I was tired. Maybe tonight I would sleep better.

‘You OK?’ Ryan asked.

I looked at him. His T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the sun lighting the top of his head with golden streaks, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in the beginning of a smile. How had I got so lucky?

‘You know, when you were back in the future,’ I began, not sure how to phrase this question without sounding insecure or jealous, ‘I mean, you were there a long time.’

‘Nine months.’

‘Did you ever feel like giving up on coming back to 2012?’

‘Never.’

‘Did you ever wonder, though, if it might not be pos­sible? If you might just have to let it go?’

He glanced at me. ‘The thought never crossed my mind. I knew I’d find a way. Nine months felt like for ever, but I’d have kept on trying if it had been nine years or fifty-nine years. I wasn’t going to let you die like that.’

‘But when you were there, you must have had a life as well. You must have gone to school and had a social life and things like that.’

‘School wasn’t so great. I got kicked out.’

‘How come?’

‘Long story. I was on this elite program for pilots. It was intense. I was too distracted.’

‘So what did you do?’

Ryan shrugged. ‘I got a job in the shipyards with my friend, Pegasus.’

‘What about your spare time? You must have gone out with friends.’

‘I went out to a bar sometimes, but I spent most of my spare time trying to find a way back here. To you.’

He pulled off the main road and into the supermarket car park.

‘So you didn’t have a girlfriend then?’

He yanked the handbrake up and looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. ‘Are you serious?’

‘I was just wondering,’ I said, unlocking my seatbelt.

He pulled the key out of the ignition and twirled the key ring round his finger. ‘There hasn’t been anyone else since I met you.’

‘And before you met me?’

He shrugged. ‘Well, yeah. There was this one girl before I met you.’

I wanted to ask him for details. Name, age, pictures. But I couldn’t bring myself to. Not here in the bright light of a supermarket car park, while shopping trolleys rattled and clanged outside the car.

‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ The shadow of a smile flitted across his face. ‘You’ve no reason to be. She hasn’t even been born yet.’

‘I’m not jealous,’ I said.

He opened the driver’s side door. ‘Come on.’

We walked across the car park in silence for a moment.

‘So, this girl. Did you . . . you know . . .’ The words stuck in my throat. I coughed.

‘Are you asking me if I . . . ?’ He smirked, but there was a noticeable flush across his cheek.

I nodded.

He stared at the ground as we walked. ‘Yeah,’ he said.

‘And you didn’t hook up with her again when you got back to your own time?’

We were at the trolley park by now, Ryan pulling a trolley out of its stubborn embrace with the one in front of it.

‘Of course not. The only person I had any interest in hooking up with had been dead for over a century.’

He blushed even more deeply when he noticed the middle-aged woman, who’d clearly heard every word, waiting patiently behind us.

‘That must have sounded weird,’ he whispered as we pushed the trolley towards the store.

‘Not to mention creepy.’

He paused just before the entrance. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’

I felt hot. I could feel my face burning. ‘Why are we here?’

‘Is that an existential question?’

‘A practical one.’

‘To buy food. If we’re going to lie low until Lauren leaves, we’re going to need supplies.’

We took a trolley and made our way up and down the aisles, grabbing food off the shelves and dodging the slow, got-all-the-time-in-the-world tourists.

‘If I was going on holiday, I would never go self-catering,’ said Ryan. ‘How is it a holiday if you have to go supermarket shopping and cook your own meals?’

‘Not everyone has a limitless supply of money, Ryan,’ I said, smacking him lightly across the head with a baguette. ‘Something you’d better get used to if you’re going to be living on the wages of a flower picker.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ he said. ‘That’s going to be so dull. I’m going to need to sort out some fake ID and some qualifications as soon as I can.’

‘And how do you think you’re going to find somewhere to buy fake documents? The internet?’

‘’Course not. I’ve already found my source. This guy near Truro. I just need to go and make the arrangements.’

‘Won’t that be expensive?’ I said, hesitating over a packet of chocolate Hobnobs. How much money did not much money mean? Was Ryan down to his last fifty quid, or down to his last fifty thousand? ‘Should we get biscuits?’

‘Sure,’ he said, putting them in the trolley. ‘I have more money back in the farmhouse.’

We pushed the trolley to the checkout. ‘When are you planning to do this?’

‘Soon,’ he whispered. ‘I need ID that can last a lifetime so it has to be good.’

My phone rang. My friend, Amy. I hadn’t spoken to her in days.

‘Hi, Amy,’ I said.

Ryan began stacking the groceries on the conveyor belt.

‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’ she asked me.

‘Just hanging out at home.’

‘Sounds boring. Anyway, everyone’s going to the beach tomorrow. Can you come?’

Obviously I couldn’t. But the thought of doing something normal like hanging out at the beach with all my friends sounded so appealing.

‘Not sure. I’ll let you know,’ I said.

‘Call me back, OK?’

I hung up and helped Ryan bag the groceries.

‘Who was that?’ he asked.

‘Amy. Inviting me to the beach tomorrow.’

‘You can’t do that.’

‘I know.’

He put the bags into the shopping trolley. ‘We just need a couple of days. Until we’re sure she’s gone.’

‘How will we know she’s gone?’

‘She’s a cleaner. She’ll want to finish the job and get home. If she’s interested in me, I’ll know about it soon. If there’s no sign of her for a couple of days, we can assume she’s left.’

We loaded the groceries into the boot and then Ryan suggested I practise my driving. I agreed. I needed all the skills I could get.

‘And if we get pulled over?’ I asked.

‘Drive well and we won’t get pulled over.’

By the time we reached the turn-off for Penpol Cove, I was beginning to feel confident behind the wheel, dipping and releasing the clutch smoothly, remembering mirror, signal, manoeuvre. All I had to do now was drive down the narrow lane to the farmhouse, without meeting a tractor coming in the other direction. Reversing was not my forte.

I smelt it first. A bonfire. Wood and paper and dry grass. But there was a nasty undertone to it, like the smell of burning plastic.

‘The villagers won’t be happy,’ I said, hitting the button to close the window. ‘It’s an unwritten rule that you don’t light bonfires during the daytime in summer. It makes the washing smell like smoke.’

‘Village life is so exciting,’ said Ryan, laughing. ‘Will this be in the local paper?
Local resident offends neighbours with untimely bonfire
.’

‘Probably. Although it is evening, so I guess it’s OK.’ I turned to him, about to make a joke about the sorts of items that made local headlines, but the smile dropped from his face.

‘Stop the car,’ he said.

I hit the brake. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I think the smoke is coming from the farmhouse.’

‘Really?’ I squinted into the distance, but there were too many fields between us and the column of smoke rising into the sky.

‘Back the car up, Eden.’

I moved into reverse and twisted round, looking out of the rear window. Slowly we backtracked up the lane. When I reached the mini-roundabout at the top, I started driving out of the village.

‘Park the car,’ said Ryan.

I pulled in to the kerb. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘We’re going to find out if it is the farmhouse. But we’re not going down the lane. There’s a footpath through the fields, isn’t there?’

We crossed a stile into a field of potatoes and skirted round the edge, heading towards the smoke.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking,’ I said.

‘I’m thinking Lauren just set fire to my time-ship.’

‘She’s on the Isles of Scilly.’

‘She was. Is there another way to get to and from the islands, other than the boat?’

‘There’s a helicopter and a plane.’

He said nothing.

‘It might just be someone having a bonfire,’ I said.

‘Maybe.’

Over the hedge, a combine harvester made its slow way through the field, dust and straw clouding the air around it. The next field was filled with cows. They all stopped chewing the ground and turned to look at us, their sleepy brown eyes widening with curiosity.

Ryan gripped my hand tightly as we walked across the field. The cows returned to their chewing.

By the time we reached the third stile, the smoke was thicker, toxic-smelling. We were just two fields from the back of the farmhouse. From here it was easy to see that the shed where Ryan had hidden his ship was on fire. Or had been. There were no flames, just smoke spiralling up from the smouldering remains of the shed.

He swore and fell into a crouch, pulling me down with him. My knees hit the dirt with a thud. He dropped my hand.

‘Ryan,’ I said.

He shook his head to stop me speaking and swore again, repeatedly, under his breath.

Now we knew. She was here for Ryan.

‘Ryan,’ I whispered. ‘We need to leave.’

He looked up at me, his eyes wild with panic. ‘All my money is in the farmhouse.’

‘That doesn’t matter now. We have to get out of here.’

He took his wallet out of his jeans pocket and pulled the notes out. ‘I only have eighty pounds. It’s not enough.’

I placed a hand on his arm; I could feel his whole body trembling. ‘We have to get out of here,’ I said. ‘We’ll worry about money later.’

We stayed low to the ground, half crouching, half running back towards the main road. When we reached the last stile, we stopped to catch our breath.

‘I can use my debit card. I have some savings,’ I said.

Ryan looked back over his shoulder. ‘No. She’s here for me. She’ll be watching you too. That means she’ll be watching your internet usage, your bank account, your phone calls. We can’t use anything traceable.’

‘I have some savings in my bedroom. I have my mum’s wedding ring. We could get that.’

‘We need to stay away from the farmhouse and your house.’

He looked around, his eyes searching. ‘Give me your mobile.’

I handed it over. He threw it into a bin, along with his own phone.

‘You can locate someone using their phone,’ he said. ‘We need to leave here. Fast.’

We ran to the car. Ryan jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He took the coast road, driving too fast, straddling the central line.

‘Easy,’ I said. ‘We drive on the left.’

He pulled erratically to the left, grazing the side of the car against the hedge.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know.’

We drove in silence, past fields of wheat and potatoes, past the wooden holiday chalets dotted on Perran Towans, past the golf course. A mile outside of Perran, the main town in the area, Ryan pulled off the road into a parking area that overlooked the sea. Below us, I could hear the waves booming against the base of the cliff.

‘We can’t be seen from the road,’ said Ryan. ‘We should be OK here for a bit.’