An Untimely Romance: A Time Travel Romance (11 page)

She thought back to
last night, with Frank and the Ouija board.
Oops! Beth’s Ouija board; I’ve
bloody left it
, she thought, breathing in deeply, feeling somehow she had
got the upper hand over her, or was it just jealousy playing its part? She
couldn’t see what Ruben saw in her anyway; she was quite a few years older, and
had little or no dress sense, and she wasn’t even that pretty.
She must have
been an acquired taste
, she thought, laughing to herself. The rest of the
journey passed reasonably quickly, and she soon felt the familiar cattle grid
beneath the tyres.                             

She slowed on her
approach up the driveway. She could already see Ruben sitting on the steps of
Freesdon Manor’s grand entrance. She smiled as she neared, pulling up and
switching off the engine. Ruben’s expression was hard to read.
Almost
unwelcoming
, she thought. It was a relief to be home, though, as it had
been a long drive. She jumped out the car, running towards him. He stood, and
began walking towards her. But she never received the greeting she was
expecting, and she felt his hands against hers as he snatched the keys.

“Do you know how
bloody long I’ve been sitting here waiting? Since half twelve!” he hissed,
pointing angrily down towards his watch.

Heather flinched as he
grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly back towards the car.

“Get in,” he demanded.
“Where is he then?” he asked, as if he expected Frank’s face to appear from the
concealment of the car’s tinted windows.

“I don’t know,” was
Heather’s reply. “When I woke up this morning, he was gone.”

“He can’t just bloody
disappear,” Ruben snapped, pushing her into the car. “Is there something you’re
not telling me? A reason he didn’t come back? Do I need to be worried?”

“For God’s sake, don’t
be so silly, you’re being paranoid!” Heather shouted, starting to lose her
temper. She slammed her door shut, shocked by Ruben’s behaviour. He was turning
out to be quite a conundrum; him and Frank actually, but in different ways.

Ruben hurried round to
the driver’s side and sat himself next to her.

“Hit a nerve, have I?”
His tone was sharp, and he slammed his door as if to make a point, locking them
both in. “Well, at least he won’t be bothering us any more,” he sneered.

An awkward silence
followed, although it only lasted a couple of minutes, and Ruben was the first
to speak.

“Come here, girl,” he
said, his voice softening.

Heather looked down at
her lap, too angry to meet his eyes. She could smell his aftershave as he moved
closer, kissing her neck, the side of her face, moving her head round so their
lips met, but her response was half-hearted.

“E for bloody effort,
girl!” Ruben grunted, sitting back. “Well, this may put you in a better mood.
Got a surprise for you later, no questions!” He smiled smugly. “You need to
come with me ... I’ve got things to organise.”

“Not today, Ruben, I’m
too tired. I think the journey may have taken it out of me,” Heather sighed.
“All I want to do is have a warm bath and lie down for a couple of hours.” She
fidgeted with her seat belt awkwardly.

“You’ve changed your
bloody tune. That’s great, gone to all this trouble for nothing. I thought you
might be excited, but no, you manage to put a downer on everything. What’s
wrong with ya?” Ruben paused. “No, I’m not having this, you gunna damn well
enjoy your surprise, and you’re coming with me now.”

He turned on the
ignition, and with wheels spinning drove out of the manor’s grounds. Luckily,
the roads were quiet.

“I’d hold on if I were
you,” Ruben laughed.

Heather frowned, but
she hadn’t time to ask why as Ruben thrust the car into fifth gear. She sat
watching the speedometer move up from 50mph, to 60mph, then 70mph; she knew
even 40mph was too fast around these narrow lanes, with their blind corners.

“Ruben, what the hell
are you doing? Slow down!” she yelled, holding on to her seat.

But as the lanes
narrowed and became more winding, Ruben, as if possessed, pushed his foot flat
down on the accelerator, now touching 90mph. There was barely room for one car,
and the hedgerows’ sharp branches were scratching at the windows.

“Now, tell me what
really happened last night,” Ruben demanded. “You slept with him, didn’t you?
You dirty whore!”

“For God’s sake, I told
you, Ruben, nothing happened. Now slow down, you’re gunna kill us both!”
Heather screamed, closing her eyes, knowing an oncoming car was all it would
take.

“You liar. You women
are all the same!”

“What the hell’s wrong
with you?” she said, reaching for his leg, hoping to calm him down.

“Don’t touch me!” he
hissed, his face contorted with anger as he pushed her hand away.

“Okay, if that’s what
you want to hear, I slept with him. We did it all night, he was great. I lost
my virginity to Frank. Now are you happy?”

“I knew it, you bitch!”
Ruben slammed his foot on the brake, losing control of the car, which started
sliding sideways.

Heather could smell
burning, and she saw smoke billowing up from the tyres. Then she was thrown
forwards and jolted backwards as the car hurtled into a ditch.

“You whore, you dirty
f...”

Heather grabbed Ruben’s
jacket and shook him, interrupting his outburst.

“I’ve told you, Ruben,
nothing happened! Have I ever accused you of sleeping with Beth? No, I haven’t!
And you two were in a relationship, so shouldn’t I be the insecure one? Ruben,
you’ve got serious problems.”

Ruben never answered.
Heather noticed his expression soften as he put the car into reverse.

“Don’t bother; I think
I’ll be safer walking home.”

“No, Heather, please,”
he said, grabbing her hand. “I’m so sorry, please don’t go. It’ll never happen
again. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Yeah, well, it’d
better not.” Heather’s voice was cracking with emotion, her eyes stinging as
she tried so hard to hold back the tears. She had no intention of letting Ruben
see just how much he’d upset her.

Not wanting to strike
up conversation with him, she turned on the radio but left the volume low, as
she intended to make a phone call to check that her mum and dad had arrived
safely at the hotel. After trying her number several times, she left a
purposely drawn-out voice message, keeping her eyes focused on the road ahead.
She made no attempt to interact with Ruben for the remainder of their journey;
after his outburst, she wasn’t even sure she liked him any more, let alone
wanted to be in a relationship with him.

Ruben pulled off the
road into a designated parking area, pulling into a bay with the number
fourteen painted between the two white lines.

“Mine’s the top floor,
penthouse suite,” he laughed casually.

Heather picked up on
his attempt to warm the atmosphere as he stepped from the car.

“Amazing,” she mumbled
under her breath, her eyes following him as he walked round the car and opened
her door.

“After you,” he said,
almost gentlemanly and quite out of character.

Is he trying to make
amends, but what’s in it for him?
she thought,
stepping from the car. The three-storey apartments looked very modern and she
automatically looked up to the top floor.

“Looks really nice,
Ruben; bit posh for flats.”

“Flats, apartments,
whatever. Beth always used to call it our little a-flart-ment.”

It was clear to Heather
by the look on Ruben’s face that he realised he’d overstepped the mark again,
and he was quick to change the subject.

“Not being rude, but
just dropping you off here for a while. Got things to do. Don’t ask any
questions. Everything you need is in the flat. Be ready for seven. Here, you
best have these,” he said, passing her the keys. “Top floor, third door on ya
right, number fourteen.”

She smiled. Why was he
telling her the obvious? She’d already worked that one out for herself.

As she walked away, he
grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him. He looked down into her eyes
with a lingering glance, before kissing her reassuringly on the lips.

“See ya later, girl,”
he said softly, the scent of his aftershave lingering as he turned and walked
away.

Heather watched him
intently, her eyes drawn towards his tattoos, a perfect match for his
character, that bad boy image that occasionally seemed to give way to a softer
side. She noticed the snug fit of his jeans and that cheeky line of his boxers
he wore and always managed to leave on show. His whole persona was an enigma,
almost an oxymoron. Theirs was certainly a love–hate relationship, yet one
Heather didn’t want to, or couldn’t, release herself from.

She stood for what only
could have been a couple of moments as she watched him drive off. Then,
fumbling with the keys, she turned towards the building. An ordinary house
brick kept the main door propped open, and she noticed an intercom on the outer
wall with an ‘out of order sign’ underneath. She walked inside, and was greeted
by a flight of stairs directly in front of her. It was a fairly spacious
entrance hall, with corridors leading off to both the left and right. She made
her way up the three flights of stairs, which were fairly well lit with modern
spotlighting. On reaching the third floor, she took the right-hand corridor,
stopping at the third door along.

She pushed the key into
the lock and opened the door. The first thing she noticed was a strong smell of
paint. There was no hallway as such, just a large open-plan living area. At the
far end, a marble-topped breakfast bar divided the kitchen, with laminate
flooring throughout. The decor and furnishings were striking, with the
contrasting blacks and whites, and sharp edges, giving it a very modern, classy
feel. Two two-seater black leather settees sat comfortably either side of a
square dark-wood coffee table. The room’s main feature, a lavish wall-mounted
plasma television, certainly made a statement, while the other walls donned
varying sized canvases of angular abstract art. Approximately halfway across
the room was a narrow hallway leading off somewhere.

Heather couldn’t resist
a mooch around, and she opened the nearest door which led into a square-shaped
bathroom. Tingling inside, she couldn’t fault Ruben’s attention to detail on
noticing a pink towelling dressing gown hanging on the inside of the door.
Moving further along the hallway, she opened the next door, and presumed this
must be the smallest of three bedrooms. With powder-blue walls and stencilled
spaceships, it was clearly a child’s room, but looked tired and worn, and was
definitely in need of a makeover. The floor was littered with stacked cardboard
boxes, children’s games and loose toys collectively stored in large see-through
polythene bags. The room had nothing to hold her interest, so she turned to
leave, but on doing so, something caught her eye. A name had been written in
large letters in marker pen on one of the facing boxes. As she turned back, she
saw that it read
Beth
.

Heather’s heart sank.
She knew it was the past and that’s where it should be left, yet somehow it
seemed to be invading her and Ruben’s future. She didn’t want to look, but
couldn’t not, so she walked in and closed the door behind her, even though she
knew she was alone. She reached for the box and placed it on the floor. Then
she knelt down and lifted the lid. A scent with a familiar undertone met her
nostrils, and she recognised it as belonging to Beth. She rummaged through the
contents with a strange sense of disappointment, finding only clothes, and no
clues as to their relationship, what they had done together, their intimate
moments.

She sat back on the
floor.

“What am I doing?” she
asked herself, feeling paranoid.

Closing the box, she
put it back where she had found it, but as she did so she noticed another, on
which Beth’s name was also written, though not as clearly; the letters were
small, almost scribbled.
Can’t hurt, can it?
she thought, trying to
justify her actions as she opened the second box. But this time there was more
than just clothes; here were remnants of Beth and Ruben’s relationship. A large
photo album lay at the top, and as she flicked open the front cover, she read
the words
Egypt, our first holiday together, 2000
written in purple gel
pen, obviously in Beth’s handwriting. Each photo had its own description or
witty banter beneath.

Heather frowned. How
happy they looked, with smiling eyes, sipping champagne in their first-class
seats. They were clearly in love, and Heather could almost feel it oozing out
of that one picture. She couldn’t turn the pages fast enough now as she watched
them journey from Egypt to Mexico, Jamaica, various European destinations. She
travelled the world with them, and didn’t they look the perfect couple? Her
stomach churned uncontrollably on the turn of the next page. Snowdonia, the
tree house... It felt so wrong. There were even pictures of Beth’s children, her
happy family smiling up at her, while all Heather could do was stand on the
outside looking in. How could she and Ruben build memories of their own that
had already been built before? She’d seen enough pictures, and rummaging
further she came across some cinema and theatre ticket stubs for
Swan Lake
,
Cats
, and
Oliver!,
among others. If they were really over, why
would he keep all this rubbish? There were wads of cards and letters, and
Heather opened a pink padded Valentine’s card, on which were two embossed red
hearts, intertwined. She felt the blood draining from within when she saw Ruben’s
words written at the bottom:
I’m so in love with you. You’ll always be my
girl
. The words ‘my girl’ grated in her mind, but she continued to read:
I
can’t wait for the answer to my question xxx