Given Time Read online

  ‘Well, as soon as possible, really. I thought you would have to get a mortgage, so I was hoping for about six weeks, but if you can do it sooner, that would really help. There’s a house we want to put an offer on. We’re a bit worried we might lose it if we don’t act fast.’

  I remembered that Matt had said my new account would be ready within forty-eight hours. ‘Shouldn’t be a problem. If I can get everything sorted out, I should be able to let you have it in a couple of days, but we’ll make it four hundred thousand, just to be sure, okay?’

  His eyes widened. ‘Wow, thanks, Kee. Have you really got that sort of money?’

  I laughed, and patted all my pockets. ‘No, not on me.’

  Eight

  The following few days were long and eventful, but not altogether in ways I might have expected. My flight from Heathrow departed at two on Tuesday afternoon, which gave me time to get some things organised in the morning. My new clothes from the hotel in London, together with some more I’d bought on Monday afternoon, were packed into two suitcases sitting ready to go by the front door. Meanwhile, I checked in online.

  I got an email from Matt at the bank, mid-morning, to say that my account was ‘up and running’ and he’d couriered my new cards to me. No sooner had I read it than the messenger arrived at the door. Back in my office I tore open the package and grinned as I took out two cards, one black and one gold. I’d seen others using these types of cards, but I’d never imagined owning one myself, and certainly not two. I turned them over and over, studying the details as if I’d never seen a credit card before. With a sigh at my foolishness, I scanned the accompanying instructions, signed the cards and put them away in my wallet.

  I sent a brief acknowledgement to Matt and logged in to my new account for the first time. The home page opened, displaying my balance in the top corner, and I stared at the amount for several long moments. Knowing the money was there was one thing, but seeing it in writing somehow made it much more real. I dragged my eyes away from the figures and found the link for making a payment. After filling in the details and receiving an automated phone verification, I transferred Drew his money and sent a text to let him know. He phoned straight away with gushing thanks, saying that Amy sent me a big kiss.

  ‘Not a problem. I’m glad I could do it,’ I said. Laughing, I told him to tell Amy I would collect the kiss in person next time I saw her.

  The taxi picked me up at eleven thirty and dropped me at the airport just after midday. It was then I realised that with much quicker baggage checking and security procedures for first-class passengers, I could have easily left it another hour. With time to kill, I made my way to the first-class lounge and ordered a beer, which I took to an armchair facing the windows that overlooked the runways. The lounge was every bit as luxurious as I’d expected, with leather armchairs and opulent furnishings, but it was busier than I’d thought it would be, and with so many people, despite the luxury, I found it to be pretty much like any other airport waiting area.

  I sat and watched planes taking off and landing while I listened to the conversations going on around me. I’m not sure if I expected first-class passengers to be different from the rest of us, but I was surprised to find that mostly they filled their time with complaining about everything from bad service, poor food, rude staff, to delays in their arrangements, and invariably, the price they had paid for their inconveniences. Either that, or they were boasting about their possessions and where they’d bought them: ‘I wouldn’t wear anything other than a Rolex’ or ‘I only ever shop on Rodeo Drive’.

  In a far corner of the room, a guy in his early forties was bitching at the top of his voice about his unreasonable ex-wife to a young woman with a bright red face who clearly would have liked to have been anywhere else. She had the good sense to keep nodding and not say anything as he continued his tirade for the whole room to hear.

  I turned back to the window just as a private jet was landing, and as it taxied, I wondered idly how much one of those would cost.

  I’d been looking forward to flying first class, but a little while later after boarding, I reflected that while the aircraft exceeded my expectations the company was disappointing. An attractive young woman came to sit in the seat next to mine. I smiled at her as she sat down and was given a sullen glare in return, dispelling any presumption of a pleasant conversation during the flight. Nothing was good enough for her. Her champagne was too warm, they didn’t have her brand of bottled water, she created a scene when the attendant brought her peanuts in a packet rather than in a bowl and they didn’t serve her meal quickly enough – and when they did bring her food, she declared it inedible. In the end, I become so fed up with her whingeing that I put on headphones and drowned her out with a couple of movies.

  After nine and a half hours, and despite what I thought was excellent service, I was never happier to get off a plane. We landed at Seattle, where I changed airlines to complete the journey down to Honolulu.

  I was relieved to find my neighbour from the first flight was not on board, but that relief was short-lived when a guy sitting three rows back started talking, loud enough for the whole cabin to hear, about his art collection. By the time he finished, he’d described every painting he owned and the price he’d paid for each, most of them running into several millions.

  I’d hoped to get some sleep on the flight, but the combination of seats with a limited recline and the strident voice of the art collector had rendered that impossible. Tired as I was, I still laughed quietly to myself when, after he’d described a couple of his five million dollar paintings, he said, ‘I’m picking up another one of those next week,’ as though he were buying cheese or a loaf of bread.

  We landed at just after ten in the evening, local time, and when I finally reached my hotel room it was midnight. By then I had been awake for about twenty-seven hours. I fell into bed and was asleep within minutes, but at five in the morning I was wide awake again, my body clock telling me it was much later in the day.

  That afternoon found me sitting on a lounger at the poolside terrace with my second ice-cold beer and an unopened novel on the table beside me. I’d draped my towel across the foot of the sunbed and put my T-shirt with my sandals under the table. Wearing only a pair of light cotton shorts over my swimming trunks, I was still less comfortable than I would have liked. The heat had become unbearable, and I hadn’t counted on the humidity; I’d been for a walk along Waikiki Beach at about seven in the morning and come back drenched in sweat. A shower and change of clothes had refreshed me, but as the temperature rose I was beginning to feel sticky again.

  The pool had been inviting earlier and I’d swum for a good fifteen minutes, but with more guests splashing about, it had lost some of its appeal. I lay back and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander as the jet lag kicked in.

  A noise beside me brought me back to reality, and sensing someone standing close I opened my eyes to find a woman looking down at me.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I thought you might be asleep.’

  She looked as though she was in her mid-fifties, but her hair, make-up and clothes were that of a woman thirty years younger.

  ‘No, just dozing. Jet lag,’ I explained. ‘It was a long flight yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, you’re British!’ she said with more excitement than seemed necessary. ‘I just love your accent. I could listen to you talk all day.’

  She introduced herself as Carole. ‘With an “e”!’ she said, as if it were the most important thing in the world. She asked if she could join me and sat down on the lounger next to mine before I had a chance to object. Not that I would have done – I was grateful for some company, and she seemed pleasant enough.

  We chatted for a while, and she asked, ‘Would you like to buy a girl a drink?’

  I apologised, putting my lack of manners down to tiredness, and summoned a passing waiter.

  Carole addressed him directly. ‘Can I get a Salty Dog?’

  ‘Sure,’
he said, and turned to me.

  My beer was hardly touched, so I said I was okay for now.

  ‘What’s a Salty Dog?’ I asked Carole.

  ‘It’s a Greyhound with a tail,’ she said, leaving me none the wiser.

  She carried on making small talk and stretched out on her lounger, arching her back briefly in what I guessed was an attempt to show off her figure. Despite her years, she was in good shape, and her long legs were toned and tanned, her miniskirt showing them to their best advantage. I guessed she must have worked out to maintain her slender form. I was sure she’d had work of a different kind on her youthful looking face, but it was her neck and the backs of her hands that gave away her age.

  The waiter brought her a lemon-yellow drink in a high-ball glass with salt crusted around the rim. I still couldn’t tell what it was, but was convinced I wouldn’t be ordering one for myself at any time.

  Carole held up her glass towards me. ‘Cheers. Is that right?’

  I picked up my beer and clinked glasses. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ I laughed. ‘Cheers.’

  We both took sips from our drinks, and then I put mine down on the far side of my lounger. After my experience the previous Friday, I kept my glass as far from her as possible. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  She asked me how long I was staying in Hawaii, whether I was here on holiday or business and what I did for a job. I told her about my web design business, without mentioning I’d just closed it down or why. She made a good pretence of being interested, and as she listened she kept widening her eyes then blinking slowly. I guessed it was meant to be alluring, but I found it quite weird.

  After about twenty minutes, she looked out over the pool. There were even more people in it now, and the chances of swimming were almost nil.

  ‘Wow, it’s getting really noisy here.’ She gave me a short appraisal. ‘And you’re looking tired.’

  She left the statement hanging, but I wasn’t tired enough to miss the cue. ‘It’s quieter in my room,’ I said, and she immediately swung her legs off her lounger and readied to go.

  I’d kept the air conditioning on its highest setting, so my room was cool and quiet when we walked in – a welcome respite from the heat and noise far below us. There hadn’t been any suites available when I’d booked the hotel so the accommodation wasn’t close to the luxury of the place in London, but what it lacked in amenities it more than made up for with its view. From the thirty-fifth floor, it was possible to see for miles. The deep blue ocean grew paler the closer it got to the shore, through cyan and light green to crystal clear, giving an unobstructed view of the rocks and reefs below the waves. Dazzling white sails dotted the surface in every direction, and the crashing waves at the far end of the beach had been filled with surfers from first light.

  I’d been mesmerised as soon as I’d opened the curtains that morning, and the effect of the view was no less powerful now. Carole, on the other hand, must have seen it many times before because she was completely indifferent, and instead turned to me, putting her hand round the back of my head and pulling me gently towards her.

  Her kisses were a little slobbery, and her tongue probed my mouth more deeply than I liked. I might have been put off if her firm body hadn’t felt good in my arms. She writhed against me until she felt the inevitable response, then grabbing my buttocks she ground her hips against mine while pushing her tongue further into my mouth until I was almost gagging.

  Despite the unpleasantness of her kisses, I had become fully aroused. I stroked her back, then broke away to strip off my T-shirt and throw it on a chair. I moved in to do the same with her top, but she pushed me away to arm’s length.

  ‘Whoa there,’ she said. ‘What’s the mad rush?’

  I failed to hide my confusion. ‘I’m sorry. I thought this was what you wanted.’

  ‘Sure it is, but you can’t expect a girl to give you a good time if she’s hungry, can you?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘I know a great place to eat, just down the road from here. The surf ‘n’ turf is to die for.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ I said cautiously, guessing what was coming next.

  ‘If you buy me dinner, we can come back here afterwards, and I’ll give you the time of your life and the best blow job you’ve ever had. One you’ll never want to forget.’ She opened her mouth wide and slowly licked around her lips.

  I glanced away to disguise a grimace. The thing she had done with her eyes had been strange enough, but this was repellent.

  ‘Then tomorrow I’ll take you to see the sights. I know lots of great places and a nice secluded beach where we can make love in the sand.’

  She tried to kiss me again, but I pulled away. It had become clear what her game was: she was looking for a wealthy toy boy. With her ambitious promises, she must have presumed the deal was complete.

  Having shown her where I was staying, I could imagine her causing all sorts of problems if I tried to shake her off. Under any other circumstances I’d have been hearing alarm bells at having been caught by a limpet, but she hadn’t reckoned on seducing a time traveller.

  ‘Hang on. I want to show you something.’ I pulled the time turner out of my pocket and held it up.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s a very clever device,’ I told her.

  ‘What does it do?’

  I smiled at her. ‘It makes you go away,’ I said, and turned back forty-five minutes.

  I looked at the empty room, punched the air and laughed all the way to the shower.

  Refreshed, I came out of the bathroom intending to take a nap to try and ease the jet lag before going out for a solo dinner, but as I looked around I saw my T-shirt was missing. I thought about it and worked out that because I’d gone back in time, my T-shirt would still be at the poolside lounger together with duplicates of my sandals, towel and novel. I quickly pulled on my shorts, and went to retrieve them.

  Down at the terrace a welcome sight awaited me; the beer I’d finished before going to my room was untouched on the table. I sat down on the lounger to drink it, but before I picked up the glass, I heard a voice say, ‘There he is!’

  I looked up and saw a young guy in the pool pointing at me while grabbing a young woman’s arm. He waded through the water towards me with the woman and another couple trailing behind him.

  ‘How did you do that, mister?’ he shouted. ‘Where did you go?’

  I regarded him in complete confusion. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘You just vanished into thin air.’

  I’d previously wondered why there was never two of me when I went back in time, and now it was obvious. I’d used the device up in my room, but had gone back to when I’d been sitting by the pool, so that version of me had simply stopped existing.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I told him. ‘I just went to the bathroom.’

  ‘Yeah, but you just disappeared. I was looking at you one second, and the next you were gone. You didn’t get up or nothing.’

  ‘No, I just got up and walked from here,’ I said. ‘You must have missed me.’

  His girlfriend chimed in, ‘See, you just imagined it.’

  ‘No, I know what I saw.’ He started to get aggressive. ‘You didn’t get up, man. You vanished, and I wanna know how you did it, ’cause either you’re some kinda magician or I’m some kinda whack job, and I know it ain’t me.’

  I could tell he wasn’t going to accept any explanation, and I didn’t want to get into a fight with him, so knowing it was about fifteen minutes since I used the device, I lay back on the lounger and turned back twenty. The guy and his friends were playing in the pool once more, and after a short time I saw him look in my direction, but he turned away again to carry on with what he was doing.

  I took a large gulp of my beer and thought about what had happened. Was this going to be a continuing problem? If every time I used the time turner another me simply vanished in front of people, was it always going to lead to trouble? After a while, I decided
that, unless I was talking to them at the time, most people would put it down to their imagination. If not, I felt sure I’d find a way to explain it, but I was too tired to worry about it now.

  I hadn’t realised how long I’d been sitting there until I noticed I’d finished my drink. Moments later Carole the Cougar strolled up beside me.

  ‘Hi. Do you mind if I sit here?’ she asked as she lowered herself onto the next lounger and did the strange blinking thing with her eyes again.

  ‘No, not at all,’ I told her, and started to gather up my things. ‘I was just leaving anyway.’

  ‘Oh, I thought you might like to buy a girl a drink?’

  This time I detected a note of desperation in her voice. I was loath to hurt her feelings, but I balanced that with the need to leave her in no doubt of my lack of interest. ‘To tell you the truth,’ I said. ‘You thought wrong.’

  Nine

  The following day was overcast, the incongruity of leaden skies taking me by surprise. I’d slept well, and woken at just after seven. My body clock having largely adjusted to the local time, I felt bright and invigorated; but I’d opened the curtains to an ocean of grey stretching to the horizon in all directions. The air conditioning had kept my room cool, and as I looked out at what appeared to be typical London weather, I started to feel chilly. Dressed only in a T-shirt and shorts, I considered changing into warmer clothes, but when I opened the door to the balcony a blast of tropical heat hit me as if I’d just opened an oven, and I quickly changed my mind.

  I filled the rest of the day with a sightseeing tour of the island, taking in all of the well-known landmarks – and, presumably, none of the places Carole had promised me. The minibus picked me up at nine from the hotel entrance. It was already close to full so I took the last remaining seat, in the front next to the driver.