Given Time Page 4

  She appeared to be in her late twenties. Her unnaturally straight shoulder-length blonde hair framed a face that was attractive despite a slightly crooked nose. Her eyes were a little close-set, giving her a slightly pinched expression that disappeared when she smiled.

  ‘Sure, I’d like that,’ I said in response to her request to join me.

  She took off her coat, draping it over the back of a spare seat, to reveal a tight black minidress, which showed off her lovely figure and long shapely legs. She sat down carefully, pulling at the hem of her dress, and put her knees together, turning them slightly away from me before placing her hands in her lap. I smiled at her, enjoying the view, and offered her a drink. The waiter arrived promptly. I expected her to ask for wine or an expensive cocktail, but she surprised me by opting for a mineral water.

  Her manner was confident when she introduced herself as Shannon, but her voice became reticent as she said, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t normally do this, but there was a guy hitting on me in reception so I’m trying to avoid him.’

  I hesitated.

  ‘I don’t want any trouble,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, he seems harmless enough. And if he sees me with someone else, I’m sure he won’t bother me again.’ She paused. ‘I can go if you want. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I could do with the company.’

  When she put it that way, it would have seemed impolite to send her away, and her assertion calmed my unease. ‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘I’m glad to have someone to talk to.’

  She smiled, and I watched her visibly relax as I felt myself do the same.

  The drinks arrived and we clinked glasses before she asked me what I did for a living and if I was in town for long. I started to say I was a web designer, but quickly checked myself, as it occurred to me that, as such, I was unlikely to be staying in this hotel. I changed my occupation to consultant, hoping she wouldn’t notice the lie in my hesitation.

  She asked if I travelled much for my work, and I told her it varied, depending on the type of project, but I worried I was sounding too vague to be convincing. Concerned that she might catch me out if I made up too many details, I said that she would find it all terribly dull, and steered the conversation to ask about her.

  She had been for a three-day job interview with an international company, and they had put her up in the hotel. She told me the name of the firm, but it didn’t ring any bells, although I assumed it must be prestigious if they accommodated prospective employees in this place. I suggested that a three-day interview must be pretty intense, but she laughed and explained that most of it was really tedious, and she was glad to be going home the next day. I asked her where that was, but although she told me it was near Manchester, it was clear she didn’t want to be more specific, and I began to get the impression she wasn’t too keen to talk about herself either.

  We chatted instead about favourite bands and movies, and the conversation became a lot easier. She had a good sense of humour, and we laughed about silly plot twists and some of the unusual dialogue we remembered. I could feel my excitement growing as we talked. Every time we laughed, she put her hand on my arm. Sometimes it was just a touch, but a couple of times she left it there for a few seconds. After half an hour in her company, I was daring to hope I might be able to persuade her to come upstairs with me. I was building up the courage to voice the question when she suddenly froze.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked her.

  ‘That’s the guy who was hitting on me earlier,’ she whispered, pointing with her eyes at a man who had just walked in. I twisted my head round and watched him walk across the room to the bar. He didn’t come anywhere near us, and didn’t even look in our direction. I turned back to Shannon and told her I didn’t think he would bother her again.

  She pulled a face. ‘You’re probably right, but I’m sorry, I don’t feel comfortable being in the same room as him.’

  She reached for her coat, and looked as though she was about to leave.

  ‘We can go up to my suite if you like,’ I blurted out and immediately felt guilty; I was hitting on her after she had just complained about the other guy.

  ‘That would be nice,’ she said, and my emotions changed from contrition to exhilaration in an instant.

  I got to my feet but she said, ‘Finish your drink first, there’s no rush. The prices they charge in this place, you don’t want to waste it.’

  I looked down at my glass, which was about a quarter full, so I gulped it down in one and helped her with her coat.

  She didn’t bother putting her arms through the sleeves, but allowed me to drape it over her shoulders like a cape. Motivated by anticipation and ego, I put down twenty pounds for the waiter and escorted Shannon to the door.

  An empty elevator was waiting in the lift lobby so we walked straight in, and I punched the button for my floor. The doors closed and Shannon stepped in close to kiss me. My heart pounded in response. I couldn’t believe my luck. This was the sort of thing that happened in the movies, but never in real life – or certainly never in mine.

  I put my arms around her, stroking her back and pulling her in even closer, while she responded with renewed enthusiasm. Her mouth was soft and warm, and her dusky vanilla perfume filled my nostrils, increasing my ardour. She began to writhe her body against mine, and I could feel myself getting dizzy with excitement. By the time we got off the elevator, I just felt dizzy. And when she supported my flagging body into the suite, the room was spinning uncontrollably as the floor came flying towards my head.

  Five

  I woke up with a splitting headache and immediately began to feel nauseous. My vision was blurred, and for a while I couldn’t work out where I was. The hazy environment was completely alien to me. I was surrounded by indistinct shapes with unusual colours, and a bright light shone in my eyes. Holding up a weak arm to shield myself from the glare, my sight gradually began to clear as my memory returned. I was in the hotel suite, lying on the floor of the living room, next to a sofa, and with my head against a small stand that held one of the table lamps. From this position I’d been looking under the shade, directly at the bright bulb. I started to lift my head, but the room spun wildly so I put it back down again and lay there breathing heavily while I waited for it to stop.

  It was a long time before the spinning calmed down enough to try again. The wooziness came straight back, but not as badly this time. I carefully rolled over and pulled myself up onto my knees against the couch. My head felt like it was being pounded by a sledgehammer, but with no small effort I managed to slowly pull myself up until I was sitting on the sofa with my head in my hands.

  I sat there for a while, waiting for my head to clear and trying to work out what the hell had happened to me. How long had I been unconscious? I looked down to check my watch but it was gone. I guessed I must have taken it off and put it down somewhere, but I was in no state to search for it, so instead I reached into my jacket for my phone, but my pocket was empty.

  The fuzziness was replaced by panic, and immediately my mind was crystal clear. My phone was gone, as was my expensive new watch and my wallet, which meant my cash and my credit cards were missing, and so was the lottery ticket. Even the keys to my flat were no longer in my pocket, so I guessed it would not be long before it would be turned over, if it hadn’t been already. Then I remembered the time device, but with no surprise I found that it had gone too. Close to hysteria, I desperately scanned the floor, hoping I might have dropped my things, and repeatedly patted my empty pockets, as if by doing so I might find I had somehow missed them. The futility of my actions only increased my indignation, because by now it was apparent what had happened.

  I remembered the girl and how keen she had been for me to finish my drink after she had pointed out the guy who’d been hitting on her. Or, at least, who she said had been hitting on her. He hadn’t taken any notice of her as he’d crossed the room, and it became clear that she’d pointed to a random stranger just to get me to look away
while the bitch slipped something into my beer.

  I collapsed back into the sofa and swore repeatedly, but it didn’t help. I felt lost and childlike; my eyes were inflamed, and I had a terrible urge to cry for my mother. I rubbed my temples in an effort to hold the tears back and tried to think about what I should do, but I simply couldn’t concentrate. I could only think about how stupid I’d been. I’d lost everything for some cheap sex. Except there hadn’t been any sex, and it certainly hadn’t been cheap. With dawning realisation, I worked out just how much this brainless episode was going to cost. I was in a hotel suite I couldn’t afford, wearing ridiculously expensive clothes I didn’t need, and I’d maxed out both of my credit cards; it was going to take the best part of two years to pay it all off. I groaned and buried my head in my hands again.

  All I could do now was face the humiliation of reporting the theft. No doubt there would be endless questioning, from both the hotel security and the police. I could imagine them smirking at each other while pretending to be polite and understanding to the stupid bastard who let himself get conned in a place he didn’t belong. After that, there would be all of the hassle of stopping my cards and checking my accounts for signs of identity theft. Then there was my phone, containing all my contacts and social media accounts. The list went on.

  My head was throbbing harder and my face was burning with anger and embarrassment, so I got up carefully to go to the bathroom for some cold water. I managed to stagger from one piece of furniture to the next until I reached the door. As I did, I noticed something unusual, and if I hadn’t felt so wretched I might have laughed. The painting had swung away from the wall, and the safe was open. I wondered how long it had taken her to crack the password, and how pissed off she must have been when she found the safe was empty. For a moment, I felt pleased I hadn’t put the lottery ticket in the safe, but then I remembered it hadn’t done any good keeping it in my wallet.

  I made it to the sink and filled it with cold water. I began splashing my face, but it wasn’t having much effect so I plunged my head into the basin, holding my face under water until I was fighting for breath. In that instant, I considered trying to drown myself, but survival instincts kicked in and I jerked my head upwards, gasping for air.

  As I dried myself off, I saw the pile of dirty clothes I’d left on the bathroom floor earlier. It occurred to me that I couldn’t remember having transferred the time device from my old jeans to my new ones. I dropped the towel and leapt at the clothes, frantically feeling for the pockets. I immediately felt a bulge in the fabric. With unimaginable relief, I triumphantly pulled the device out of the pocket. I held it up in front of me as though it were the Holy Grail. I could have kissed it.

  Everything had changed. I was euphoric. I could return to the time before Shannon, or whatever her name was, had robbed me and I would have everything back. I gripped both halves of the device ready to turn, but before twisting it, I had a moment of clarity and stopped. I needed to think first. Something told me that if I just blundered back straight away, I could get it badly wrong. I had to plan what I was going to do.

  I went back to the living room and sat on a sofa, staring at the device in my hands and trying to work out what the problems might be. Then I got it. I thought about the beer bottles disappearing from my fridge because I’d gone back to before I’d bought them, and I realised that if I went back to before she robbed me, my pockets would remain as empty as they were now, and the girl would have nothing to steal.

  That felt like quite good justice, but it also meant my stuff would be gone forever; it wouldn’t just magically reappear. I had to go back to just after she took my things but before she left, so I could take them back from her. The trouble was, I didn’t know at what time she’d stolen them. I checked the clock on the desk tablet and found it was two forty-five in the morning. I wasn’t sure what time we’d left the bar, but I was sure we’d still been sitting there at one o’clock, so I guessed I must have been unconscious for a little over an hour.

  I could turn back at least forty minutes without a problem, but even so, I did it in small stages. After the third turn, I decided it would be a good idea to block her exit, and I went to stand in front of the door. I carried on turning in ever smaller amounts until I was just going back a few seconds each time. It seemed to be taking forever, but I couldn’t afford to get it wrong. Then another thought occurred to me, and in a panic I quickly stepped to one side as I realised that I’d almost made the biggest mistake ever. I stopped what I was doing while I tried to calm down from the thought of it: if she had been walking through that space at the moment I went back in time, we would be conjoined forever. Not that we would live long, with our limbs and internal organs intermingled. Even if I used the device again straight away, it would not untangle us; once joined she would simply travel back in time with me, in the same way as my clothes did.

  The idea terrified me, but as my self-control returned I decided I was worrying over very little. I would just need to be careful about where I used the device. Having thought it over I put those fears aside and got back to what I was doing.

  A couple more turns and she was suddenly in the room, walking towards me as she stuffed my belongings into her bag. Instantly my heart raced, but I was nowhere near as startled as she was. Her face registered incomprehension, and she spun round to look at the floor where, as far as she was concerned, I had been lying just a moment earlier.

  As she turned I grabbed her wrist, but she came back fast and punched me hard in the face. I yelped and lost my grip on her arm, but just in time I saw her knee coming up to my groin. I twisted away and she caught the top of my thigh instead. It was still painful, but nowhere near as debilitating as it could have been. She tried to hit me again, but I blocked the punch, so she kicked me in the shin.

  I had to stop her. I had no choice.

  I punched her in the mouth, and she went down in a heap on the floor. I quickly jumped astride her to pin her down, but she still kept hitting and kicking at me. I balled my fist to punch her again and she stopped abruptly.

  ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ she pleaded, her voice quivering.

  Grabbing both her wrists, I pinned them above her head and glared at her, my face just a few inches from hers. My punch had split her lip, and a spot of blood trickled down her cheek.

  ‘Give me back my stuff!’ I yelled. I pulled her arms together so I could hold them with one hand, then I snatched up her bag and emptied the contents over the floor. I quickly sorted my belongings from hers and slid them away from her across the floor. I showed her my fist again. ‘Try anything stupid, and I’ll do more than hurt you.’

  In reply she just glowered at me, so I got off her.

  ‘Go on. Get out of here.’

  She rolled onto her knees and scrabbled her things together before rushing to the door. ‘Fucking asshole,’ she yelled back at me as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

  I picked my things up and sat back on the sofa. My heart was pumping hard and my breathing was still heavy, but as I checked the contents of my wallet the relief was immense. I sat for a few minutes while I calmed down, but as I did another problem came to mind and my tension increased again. The girl had just left my room with a split lip and looking dishevelled. There was a chance that if she pulled this scam regularly, she might not want to draw attention to herself with the hotel staff, but on the other hand, by the time she reached reception she could easily have worsened her appearance and be feigning distress. Right now, she could be reporting me for assault and attempted rape. I had an image of a bunch of heavies from hotel security pounding on my door at any minute, followed by the police and endless questioning for the rest of the night.

  Fortunately, it was easy enough to fix. I could go back again, to before I met her, and none of this would have happened. If I went back to just after I had showered and changed, I could simply stay in my room for the night. I groaned at the thought. I had already gone back so many hours, it
was starting to feel like the day would never end. Besides, I was sore from where she had attacked me, and I didn’t feel like letting her get away with it.

  Then I had a wicked idea, and I chuckled at the thought of it. Crossing to the desk, I found writing paper and envelopes in a drawer. I emptied the contents of my wallet into an envelope, together with my mobile, my keys and my new watch, then I folded several sheets of paper so they would fit into my wallet and bulk it out. I was going to lose it but it was old, cheap and tatty, so I didn’t care. I divided the papers between the divisions, before holding it up to test the weight. It wasn’t going to stand up to close inspection, but it felt heavy enough. Hopefully she would be in too much of a hurry to check the contents before she left.

  I looked at the envelope wondering what to do with it. I had to have it on me when I went back, otherwise it would be gone forever, so I decided to put it down the front of my jeans, hoping that if she frisked me, she wouldn’t check there. I collected my old watch from the bathroom, put it on and then lay down on the floor where I had woken up. I didn’t know if I was lying in exactly the same position, but with luck it was close enough not to spook her.

  Judging that I needed to go back about seven minutes, I turned the time device and quickly looked around for her. I couldn’t see her and almost panicked, thinking I’d got the turn wrong, but then I noticed her standing near the desk. She had connected her mobile to the tablet, and I realised she was running an app to decipher the password to the safe. It took no longer than a few seconds, and the painting swung away from the wall.

  While she disconnected her phone and made her way to the safe, I had just enough time to remove the envelope from my clothes, and slide it under the nearest sofa. A gap of just a couple of inches from the base to the floor meant it was well concealed, so I rolled the time turner under there as well. In the distance, I heard the girl say ‘Shit’ as she discovered she had wasted her time on an empty safe, and I allowed myself a brief smile. I quickly closed my eyes when I heard her approaching.