The Time Rip (8 page)

Freya blinked, taken aback by his direct approach. In less than thirty seconds, he had sliced cleanly through her dialogue to expose the finer detail she had been trying to fudge. “Um…I guess, I think…” She stumbled for words and then the humour of the situation had her snickering, “Wow. Don’t take any prisoners will you. Did I really call him a stalker?”

“That was certainly the impression I received, but my brother, Brett, will tell you that I am an amateur when it comes to perception, and I have to believe him as I have never beaten him on poker night.”

Appreciative of the distraction she said, “My God, if your brother thinks that, I don’t want to meet him any time soon.” She gave him a grin, “I’ve never played poker, is it hard to learn?”

“The rules are simple enough. It takes certain swiftness in mental arithmetic and Brett’s mind reading abilities are undoubtedly a bonus, but enough about my brother. We were talking of Martin. Has he been giving you trouble, Freya? I wish you will tell me.”

“Martin is a right royal pain, but he’s such a geek it’s hard to think of him as a bona fide stalker.” She smiled, but shifted in her chair; caught his flash of amused calculation.

“I’m sorry if I am making you uncomfortable.” Another pause, “What I mean to say is: if you need assistance dealing with Martin, you have only to ask. I am happy to be of service.”

“Um, thanks, um, that’s really nice of you, but I’m sure it will be okay.” Thinking it was a weird thing for him to say, Freya involuntarily pictured the two men facing off with handbags at dawn. She squashed the image before she could laugh. She really should make an effort to find out how far back in time she had come. “So. Um. How’s the accounting going?”

Jeremy sighed a little and took a sip of his coffee.

“It’s going well, thank you. I did have a slight difference of opinion with a London customer over a tax issue, but otherwise it has been uneventful.”

Freya grinned suddenly, “What kind of difference of opinion are we talking about here?” she leaned forwards putting both hands on the table.

Brightening, he said: “Are you offering your assistance?”

“Maybe.”

His smile widened. “We had a misunderstanding about the type of bookkeeping I do for companies. A small point regarding income tax.”

“Oh.” She paused, head on one side, “What happened?”

“We had a little chat about tax and the law and then he went on his way.”

“Rubbish.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What did you do to him? I bet you dangled him off a bridge by his ankles until he promised to mend his ways.”

“Not that it wouldn’t have been entertaining, but sadly nothing so interesting happened. Matt, a friend of mine, tells me I have an unfortunate turn of phrase at times. It can make people uncomfortable, but I find they are often glad to comply with my wishes.”

Freya glanced away, unable to hold back her grin, “Remind me not to get on the wrong side of you. I had a teacher at school that could do that. In fact, he could stop us getting up to no good simply by quietly drinking tea in the staff room. We were all terrified of him.”

“I can well imagine, but I would not be at all surprised to find he was driven to being the terrifying soul he was.”

“Well, certainly not by me. I was good as gold.”

“Of course you were.” His voice was warm with laughter.

“So. Um,” Freya hesitated and then bit her lip a little, “You like the bookkeeping then? I guess you have to be pretty sharp at maths for that kind of stuff. I bet you were top of the class in school and made all the other kids look bad.”

Jeremy considered her. What was she after now? Comprehension came with a smile. “Ah, the dreaded tax returns, and I thought you wanted to see me for the pleasure of my company. Let’s see those figures then.”

Freya felt her eyes widen. How the hell did he get that so fast? She had prided herself on finding a subtle way of getting around to talking of the accounts but, apparently, it was not that subtle.

“I did. I mean I do and anyway, I don’t have any tax returns at the moment,” she stammered, suddenly unsure.

He inclined his head towards her bag where it lay on the table with the top edge of the paperwork just showing. “Prove it,” he said, and sent her a fast grin.

“Nuh uh. That’s just other stuff.”

“What other stuff might that be?”

“Stuff about, uh…”

“Freya, you are a poor liar.” Placing one finger on the top sheet of paper, he drew it swiftly out of the bag and across the table. Her messy scrawl of pencilled figures covered every inch.

“Well maybe a little accounting, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“In that case, you won’t object if I take a look?” He turned the sheet around, and taking another sip of coffee, began to read.

Freya felt heat sting her face. She had been struggling with percentage interest between this month and the last, and knew her efforts were bad.

He put the page down with a smile, took one look at her face, and sighed. “It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable. If you did not wish me to help you with this, then why did you bring it to me?”

“Um, I guess I did want to ask you to help.”

“Then I am more than happy to do so.” He reached across the table and took her hand.

She looked at their twined fingers. She had come here with the intention of getting a high similar to seeing a favoured pop star at a gig, but the reality of the situation was unexpectedly intimidating.

It was one thing to boast to Janet about casually coming here to flirt with Jeremy over her accounts, but it was quite another to actually do so and have him reciprocate.

He was obviously intelligent; had read her accurately and with astonishing speed. That time travel was supposedly impossible should prevent him guessing the truth of where she had come from, but would it be enough? It was a bit of a huge secret to keep around someone so apparently sharp.

She had the feeling it might be unwise to allow things to progress beyond simple friendship between them, but would she be able to keep that distance if he began to pursue her in earnest? It was not as though she was having much luck convincing Martin of her disinterest, and she didn’t even like Martin.

Jeremy watched emotions chase across her face and wondered if she might be thinking to keep him at arms length. It was unlikely to work. Freya might take a while to trust him, but he could read her clear interest in him and did not doubt that he could reel her in if he chose.

He smiled and released her hand to take another sip of coffee. “Are you interested in learning the figures, or would you prefer me to just take it off your hands?”

Freya took a breath and leaned back. She wanted to treat him as she would anyone else. “I don’t think you’ll get far with teaching me. I’ve been trying to learn for years.”

It suddenly occurred to her that she could not simply hand over money to pay him as she would to an accountant in 2008. Even in the relatively short time she had lived, some of the currency had changed. If there were no cars here then it was likely that money would consist of shillings and farthings and stuff.

Her mind gave a small glimpse of her cheque bouncing, as her account could not exist in this era, of handing across money that was not yet in circulation. Yet Joe had spoken of trading services rather than cash, so perhaps there was another way.

“Maybe I can do something for you in return.” As soon as the words were out, she bit her lip. It was a dumb thing to say, and Janet’s laughter echoed in her mind along with all the glib responses to such an open invitation. She mentally winced.

It didn’t help that she could hear the smile in Jeremy’s voice as he replied, “All right, we will think of something mutually agreeable. Let me have the rest of the accounts now.”

Freya slowly pulled her papers and the ledger book from her bag and passed them across to him. Jeremy smiled at her reluctance. He put the papers with the book on top neatly in front of him.

“I’ll look at these later on today. When will you next be down this way?”

“I’m only in Reading and it’s fairly flexible.”

“Can I expect to see you at the same time tomorrow?”

“Okay.” Freya glanced up, blue eyes meeting brown. “You said you were going to grow some vegetables; be more self-sufficient and all that,” she said, with a sudden idea of what to offer in return. She was not sure she wanted to wait for whatever mutually agreeable suggestion he might make. “Maybe I can supply you with some seeds for that. I’ve got some good contacts, being in floristry.”

“An excellent idea. That would be most helpful. Let me show you where I had marked out to grow them. You might have some other ideas for the garden too.”

He stood as he spoke, came round the table and held out his hand. Freya placed her hand in his automatically, feeling his fingers close warmly. He pulled her to her feet but kept her hand in his, leading her outside and round the house. She felt dumb walking around holding hands with him, but did not know what to do about it, entirely unable to think of what to say about it that would make any kind of sense.

On the other side of the house was a gate leading into a walled off garden. It was a large rectangular plot, a mess of weeds mainly, interspersed with a couple of fruit trees. Jeremy indicated a patch of earth he had obviously spent some time clearing.

“Here,” he said. He turned towards her slightly, standing so close she could feel the heat from his body. Her mind shied away from her feelings and she let the garden distract her, gaze wandering over the space and imagining it filled with flowers.

It could be lovely with a bit of work. If it were hers, she would put a bench against the west-facing wall to catch the afternoon sun; perhaps grow a rose over the gate at the entrance.

Jeremy’s hand on her arm had her glancing back up at him. He was looking down at her with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. Her gaze dropped to his mouth; watched the corners lift in a smile as he shifted closer. She felt suddenly dizzy. She wanted to speak but was unable to form a coherent thought.

Into the silence a voice called out, “Mr Sanders? Are you there?”

Jeremy turned and let her go, answered, “Back here, Joe.” He sent Freya a look filled with humour and exasperation.

Joe appeared around the gate and his face lit up at the sight of Freya.

“Freya! How do you do? You got back home all right I take it?”

Freya drew a breath and stepped back; trying to calm her racing heart. Joe’s appearance gave her some much-needed thinking time and she was thankful for his sudden arrival.

“Yes thanks, Joe. It’s good to see you.” She caught Jeremy’s inquiring look, and quickly glanced away, silently cursing.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Joe gave the younger man a grin. “I brought the butter you requested, I’ve put it the larder for you, and Mrs Oakley asked if I would let you know she has a couple of bantams you are welcome to have. She said she’d keep ‘em for you if you want to see her later on in the week.”

“That is most kind of her. Thank you for letting me know. I will be going into town tomorrow, so I hope to catch up with her then.”

Freya glanced back at Jeremy. Any minute now, he was going to ask how she had met Joe. She knew it, and that would be a bad thing.

“Actually, I should really get going,” she said. She had wanted to see Joe to thank him again for his help, but did not see how she could without Jeremy learning of her night in the field.

She certainly did not want to talk about her ‘stolen’ Transit van. Jeremy would not only drag the entire story out of her, but also pick holes in any lies she tried on him. He would want to know why she had not gone back to him that night and how she had made it home in the end, and she was not ready for that.