But as far as I could see, if it worked, it could just be the perfect solution. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before.
I leapt out of bed and ran downstairs into the living room. On the bookshelf there were a few old notepads so I grabbed one, found a pen, and settled on the sofa. I hesitated a moment, the pen hovering over the page as I tried to work out what to say. And then I began to write.
I don’t know how long I sat there for trying to get the words right, but by the time I was happy with it, sunlight was beginning to filter through the window and the birds had started their dawn chorus.
Dear Nick,
I know you’re angry and you don’t want to talk to me, and I understand why. But if you’ve found this letter PLEASE don’t throw it away. There’s something I need to tell you.
At 10a.m. on Sunday 12th March 2006, you take a train into London.
Please do NOT get on that train.
I won’t tell you why because I know you don’t want to know any details about the future. But I wouldn’t tell you this if it wasn’t vitally important, so you’ll just need to trust me on this one.
Don’t get on that train.
Emma
I stood, stretched my arms and reread it one last time. I’d considered telling him the truth about the crash, perhaps even asking him to try and stop it happening at all – after all it’s what happened in all the time travel stories I’d ever read and watched. But the more I thought about it, the more worried I was about trying to mess with the past too much – not mention that Nick categorically told me he didn’t want to know anything. Besides, what could he actually have done to stop a train crashing? If he’d tried to tell anyone his fears, they would just have assumed he’d lost his mind.
Stopping him getting on the train would have to do. Now all I had to do was deliver the letter.
I ran upstairs and threw on some clothes. It was still early, about 5a.m., but I didn’t want to put it off in case I changed my mind or, more likely, Rachel tried to talk me out of it. I ran back downstairs, found an old envelope tucked away in a kitchen drawer and stuck the note inside. I wrote Nick’s name carefully on the front of the envelope and sealed it, then grabbed my keys and left the house.
It was warm already, the ghost of yesterday’s heat lingering in the early morning air. It was rare to be out this early and there was something soothing about the peace, about knowing that most people were still asleep behind their drawn curtains. It felt as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
At the entrance to the park, I hesitated. Was it sensible for a lone woman to go in here so early, with no one else around? I glanced left and right but could see no one, no strange men lurking in bushes, no one waiting to pounce.
I set off, marching along the path. The bandstand was only a few minutes away, and soon it was in sight. I stopped. My breathing was heavy, nerves stopping me from drawing in enough air. I waited until it had slowed, then started walking again. Slowly, one step at a time, each step weighed down with anticipation. My blood fizzed in my veins.
And then I was through the rose garden and at the threshold. I paused one last time. Did the air feel different here? Was there something that, if you were looking, gave away the defect that had allowed Nick and I to be together? Or was it in the air, in the molecules that surrounded me?
I still had no idea.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside. It was empty apart from some abandoned beer cans in one corner, and a piece of silver foil scrunched up at the back of the bench. I brushed it away and sat down, placing my hands either side of me, palms flat against the grain of the wood. If I concentrated hard enough, would I feel Nick here? Could I somehow conjure him, or send a message that would bring him to me?
I let out a lungful of air and buried my face in my hands. If only I knew the rules of this thing. As it was, I was flailing around in the dark.
I waited a few more minutes. It was so peaceful here this early, just me and the birds. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. When I opened my eyes, I spotted a woman outside the bandstand. Her foot was balanced on the raised floor and she was leaning forward stretching her hamstrings. I coughed, and the noise must have caught her attention because she looked at me and smiled.
‘Lovely at this time of day, isn’t it?’ she said.
‘Gorgeous,’ I said.
I waited as she finished her stretches, then she gave me a little wave and jogged off down the path. As soon as she was out of sight, I stood. It was my cue to do what I came to do and get out of here.
I looked up to the ceiling. I needed to find somewhere to leave this note where it wouldn’t blow away, where it wasn’t easily findable, by just anyone, but where there was a strong chance that Nick might eventually see it. I stood on the bench and peered up into the beams, squinting into corners where dust and pigeon droppings gathered. Surely this whole plan wasn’t about to be ruined because I couldn’t find somewhere to hide the note?
And then I saw it. A little gap between the wooden upright and the balustrade, just about at eye level when you were sitting down. Even better, it was on the side that Nick normally sat on. I tucked the letter inside, making sure it was safe, then sat down and looked over to check it was visible. It was, but only just. I stood and pulled a little more of the envelope out then sat and checked again. I looked away then back. Yes, I could definitely see it. I just had to hope that, even though I was in Nick’s future, the time slip somehow still worked for me, and that Nick would find it before someone else did. It was a small chance, but it was at least a chance.
I gave the letter one last tug to make sure it was secure, then I glanced round the bandstand one last time and stepped back into the park.
It was done. Now all I could do was wait and see if it was enough.
18
NICK
