Paralysis Paradox (Time Travel Through Past Lives Adventure Series Book 1) (7 page)

I was at once acutely conscious of Andreas’ breathing as I felt him tense up beside me.

‘Sherry trifle?’ asked Vera as the domestics placed bowls of trifle in front of the rest of the guests.

‘So that is why you blindfolded me, just so we could come for lunch at an old asylum?’

‘What do you think, Vicky?’ Konrad looked at me pointedly, as did the others.

They all stared at me. The lasagne turned to cardboard in my mouth, and I struggled to swallow it.

‘What do I think about the lasagne or trifle, or that I’ve just learnt that my home used to be an asylum?’

‘About Andreas risking his life, needlessly?’ Uncle Josef enquired.

My half-eaten lasagne and slushy sprouts were replaced at last by pudding.

‘He could die!’ cackled Konrad, spittle forming at the side of his mouth. He laughed as though he had cracked some hilarious joke. Dad looked uneasy, while Vera smiled, too stupid to understand what was going on. Not that I understood, I just sensed that there was some hidden meaning to all this that I was not privy to. ‘You think there’s life after death?’ he asked, turning to me.

I cleared my throat. ‘That’s a big topic. To be honest, I don’t tend to think about it much.’

‘Ah, but you should!’ said Uncle Josef. ‘Shouldn’t she, Milo?’ He turned to my father, who seemed to consider this for a moment.

‘She’s only sixteen, Josef. Sixteen year olds don’t think about dying.’

‘No,’ glowered Konrad, suddenly morose. ‘They consider themselves immortal.’

Suddenly the trifles all jumped as Andreas thumped the table.

‘For fuck’s sake!’ he yelped before storming out.

The conversation had been intense, but Andreas was so hot when he was angry that I was quite unable to finish my pudding. Thankfully Jane and Mrs Blake walked in with pots of tea and left with my half-eaten desert. I could not help but notice that Konrad looked quite shaken by Andreas’ outburst. I lent forward.

‘So I hear you are over here discussing smallpox?’

‘Josef is giving a paper outlining the benefits of keeping smallpox and similar diseases for our own protection,’ explained my father. ‘Konrad has simply accompanied him.’

‘But Josef does what you say, doesn’t he?’ I interjected, bored of these old men and their excuses. I stared into Konrad’s aged eyes. They looked half-dead already.

‘He listens to me, yes.’

‘Then tell him to destroy it. Wipe it out, it’s not right!’

‘I wish I thought the same,’ Konrad proclaimed.

I rose from the table and left in silence, closing the door behind me with such relief. The hallway was always a little too dark, so it took a moment for my eyes to adjust as I spied Jane rummaging nervously with the coats. She looked straight at me, grinned and came over with my coat, opening it for me to put it on.

‘I’m not cold, you know,’ I said, frowning.

‘I know, Miss, it’s just that the young man, he went outside. Thought you might care to join him?’ Jane beamed in response.

Unable to think of anything to say back, I let her help me with my coat and ran outside. I walked around the house, noticing that my phone felt nice and warm inside my pocket, until I spotted Andreas on a bench, looking out over the grounds. Taking a seat beside him, I took my phone out.

‘Impressive tech you have there,’ said Andreas, lighting at a cigarette.

I looked at him curiously. ‘It’s a great hand warmer’ I said.

‘Well that is a seriously cool hand warmer,’ he said, shaking the match to extinguish it. ‘Who did you just call?’

‘No one, why?’

He laughed. ‘You don’t have to tell me, I’m sure you have many boyfriends!’

I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I really haven’t made a call.’

‘Well someone has, or you’ve been playing with it—look, all the buttons are lit. They stay on for five minutes, take a look at your call history?’

He was right.

‘According to this I made a call four minutes ago...it must have been Jane.’

‘Let’s see.’ He took the phone from me and then went so deathly pale, that I thought he was going to expire right there, on that bench. No need for Afghanistan and a warzone! After pressing a few buttons, he handed it back. I looked down, fiddling with the buttons. Soft, transparent plastic, lit green from behind, with a firm click and a beep with each press. He was right: this was impressive tech.

‘I wonder who Jane was calling? I think you’ve deleted the number.’ The screen now reported that the last call was incoming and came from Deerden.

‘Oh, I’m sorry—I’m
renowned for messing up computers
!’ Andreas’ laugh was unusually high pitched, and I suddenly sensed he was trembling.

‘Remind me to never step into a helicopter with you, then.’

‘The engines don’t need computers, only the missiles and if we need those we’re having quite a ride...’

There was an awkward silence. I said the first thing I could think of to break it.

‘So, are we really cousins?’ The train of my thoughts must have been so obvious, that I might as well have stripped there and then! I could feel the part of me that was forever Charlie rolling his eyes.

‘Kind of.’

‘Why haven’t we met before?’ I asked, intrigued.

‘We have. You were very young. It was at your mum’s funeral.’

I stopped myself giggling and saying I would have remembered, but then I recognised his blushing cheeks. ‘Wait, how old were you?’

‘I was only eleven—I imagine I’ve changed.’

Now I came to think of it, I did remember a boy who was a complete crybaby, red faced throughout. I hadn’t forgotten this, because his grief seemed too much. She was my mum, and I didn’t even know who he was! No point teasing him about it now, though, in fact that would be inappropriate as hell.

‘So you remember my mum, then?’

‘Oh yes, and Vera too—both so stunning.’

‘Really? You don’t look that old.’ I was shocked at what he had just said. ‘Vera’s an old hag!’

He looked like a rabbit caught in the Bentley’s headlights on full beam. I wasn’t trying to be rude and couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he liked her in that way. She was old enough to be his mother.

‘Yes, yes, I guess she is now, but at least she’s not properly old and decrepit like Konrad.’

‘He is creepy, isn’t he?’ I said. ‘What does he actually do? Does he work with your father?’

‘They go way back. I don’t know if you know this, but your father left to escape Konrad. Konrad was a lecturer and used to teach your father. Apparently he used a device in his lectures for examining the students. They would press buttons and if the answer was wrong, it would give them an electric shock. With each wrong answer, the intensity would increase.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Do you really have no idea?’

‘Well, that explains a few things,’ I said, thinking of the servant bell-panel.

He looked at me searchingly, and I felt my face redden. I had stopped listening, mesmerised by his lips and wondering what they might feel like on my own. We sat in silence. He was about to say something else when Vera appeared on the terrace.

‘Vicky! It’s time to come in and get changed.’

I stood up, the weight of unsaid things and further questions heavy between us. ‘Sorry, I have to go.’

He rose also. ‘Sure. Maybe you could give me your number?’

‘Oh really? No one’s asked for my number before!’ I smiled at him, very conscious that Vera was standing right beside us. ‘Good luck back in Afghanistan. Don’t get shot down again...or better still, change posting so you can arrive next time without a blindfold, maybe land on the lawn!’

Before the hour passed, I was back downstairs and ready to say my goodbyes. I could hear my father in the lounge. He was getting louder, after no doubt quite a few Negronis. I went in to shake hands with my peculiar Austrian family, including Andreas, and gave my father the tightest of hugs. As I ran back out, I was holding back tears. I missed him so much when I was away at school, and I truly don’t think he had any idea.

Tom was already in the car and Jane was waiting next to Mrs Blake. I hugged Mrs Blake and shook Jane’s hand. I could see that she looked shocked, but her mouth twitched slightly as she felt a small piece of paper discreetly passed between us. I was sure that she would know what to do with it, when she read it later. She could hardly not know what to do with a note that read:
FAO Andreas
followed by a series of numbers, starting zero-seven.

The safety of Deerden would soon be replaced by the loneliness of school, but at least the Bentley ride was like taking a little piece of home away with me. To my surprise, we stopped just before we got to the road, and the Mad Hatter appeared.

‘Do you mind if he comes for a spin?’ asked Tom. ‘Look, he’s smartened himself up for the occasion.’

I grinned. He had indeed put on some clean clothes and even wore a jacket. He looked utterly different and could have passed for respectable, as long as he managed not to open his mouth.

‘Come on in, Mr Blake,’ I called. ‘You do look smart.’ He settled himself down in the passenger seat.

‘Do you mind if we go on the back roads, Miss Vicky?’ asked Tom. ‘That way we can avoid the checkpoints on the motorway. My dad’s not too keen on them, if you know what I mean.’

‘Sure. I’m fine with anything that delays school!’

I’d never quite known what the Mad Hatter had done when he was younger, as he was always full of such fantastical stories, most of which had to have been made up. But I guessed there was something in his past that made him want to avoid the authorities now. I had no problem with that.

‘Guess who I sat next to at lunch, Mr Blake? A helicopter pilot! He’s serving in Afghanistan.’

The Mad Hatter turned to face me. ‘Ah! I was there myself in 1919.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense, Dad; you’re not old enough.’

‘You don’t know nothing, Tom,’ quavered the old man indignantly. ‘It’s true; I was a nipper, only thirteen. I’d ran off to the army, you see.’

By my calculations, the Mad Hatter had to be ninety now. I knew he was old, but that was ancient.

‘How come you were in the army at thirteen, Mr Blake? Surely they wouldn’t have accepted you?’

‘I lied, sees, and they were desperate. Found myself on a train once, and them Afghanis would ride along beside, all silent like, in the middle of the night, and creep in and cut our throats in our cots.’

‘Don’t listen to him, Miss Vicky. He gets himself in a muddle. Probably read it in a book somewhere and now thinks it happened to him.’

I felt sorry for him; it must be awful not to be believed. The Mad Hatter twittered on.

‘So the
commander
ordered soldiers to be posted on the rooftops, but in the morning, all the guards on top were dead. Shot by bullets made from rocks, fired from old Lee Enfields at night. Them Afghanis, they’re a warrior race all right. In the end we used planes to scare them off, but it was only temporary. Couldn’t beat ’em then, and we won’t beat ’em now!’

‘Talking of planes, what do you know about Wisley Airfield, Tom? Everyone got upset when I mentioned it earlier.’

‘Probably best not to mention it to people outside the house,’ he replied.

‘I know lots, Missy. If there was a secret and it flew, it flew from Wisley,’ added the Mad Hatter.

‘Enough now, Dad, you’ll frighten the girl!’

I sat and thought about the events of the day, but found myself thinking mostly of Andreas. Darkness had fallen, and as we wound our way through the lanes, buildings and tree branches glistening with snow loomed white against the night. I must have dropped off, as I was suddenly awoken by a blast of cold air. The car had stopped, and the old man was getting out. He waved silently to me as we drove away, and before long Tom turned onto the motorway and I let myself sink into the comfy leather seat and doze back off to sleep.

Kings Heath, 1911

‘Wake up, lad, plenty time to sleep when dead!’ called my father as he walked past my bedroom.

My feet were sticking out at the end of the bed and they were freezing. I pulled them up under the blankets, but I was bursting, so I jumped up and ran downstairs, flying past my mother in the kitchen and out to the closet. Still half asleep, I instinctively sat down and managed to pee over the wooden seat, having forgotten that I was Charlie again, with a man’s body. The outhouse was cold, damp, and smelt of autumn manure. I closed my eyes, remembering the smell of the leather and the warmth of the Bentley. By the time I walked back in I was shivering; the sun had barely risen, and my feet were still ice-cold. Ma passed me a cup of tea.

‘What in God’s name have you got all over you, Charlie?’ she said, holding her hands up to her mouth in astonishment. ‘You look like you’ve been sleeping in the coal shed!’

I had forgotten all about being covered in soot from the fire. Three days had passed for me since, yet here it was but one. Taking some hot water from the brass kettle, I filled my washbowl and carefully carried it outside, placing it on the sidebar beside my father’s. He had just finished shaving and stared at me disbelievingly.