Shared by the Highlanders (21 page)

“Okay, well, perhaps we should have discussed it with you yesterday. But the opportunity didn’t arise, and by the time we were all three of us together again you were asleep.”

It’s still a poor excuse, but I suppose there is something in what he says. In any case, this is not our most pressing issue. I need to know how much time has elapsed since I disappeared, if my old life is still there, waiting for me to slip back in. And if Robbie and Will are to exist here, we’ll need to create lives for them too. Identities. Jobs.

“We don’t expect you to look out for us, lassie. We’ll shift for ourselves well enough, though we’d appreciate your help at first, I daresay.” Robbie seems to have tapped into my thoughts exactly.

“What are you talking about? We’re together, aren’t we? I mean forever, not just at first.”

Will steps forward and drapes an arm across my shoulders. “We don’t want you to feel obliged. Imposed on. That’s what we would have said to you, if we’d had the chance to talk before this happened. It’s one thing for two grown men to take on one wee lassie and protect her, but not the other way around.”

I shake off his embrace, irritated beyond belief. “Of course it’s the fucking same. It’s not about there being two of you, or that you’ve got dicks while I just have a vagina. Quim, as you’d call it. It’s about knowing this time, knowing how things work. It’s about being friends. And more. Much more. I love you. I want to be with you. I want you both with me.”

Will grins, while Robbie’s brow furrows. Robbie is the one to speak.

“You’ve developed a colourful turn of phrase, wee Charlie, and we may need to take issue with that in due course. But you make a fair point even so and we apologise if we offended you.”

“Right, well, don’t do it again.”

“Now that we can’t promise, lassie. I expect we’ll find much to fall out over in the coming months or years. And you know our solution to that. For now though, would you oblige us by getting your clothes on so Will can have his tartan back and we can get started on this trek in search of civilisation?”

Chapter Twelve

The crushed velvet gown is folded neatly and stowed in my rucksack, which Will insists on carrying for me. Thankfully he had the foresight to tuck my bag inside the entrance to the tent before he crawled in to join Robbie and me last night, and it has made the transition back to the future with us. As far as we can work out only those items that were within the canvas have remained with us, all else is left behind, presumably back in fifteen sixty-six. Robbie and Will are confident the abandoned horses will find their way down from the hillside without too much trouble, and will be snapped up by some farmer who won’t believe his good fortune at coming by three such fine animals.

The stores in our saddlebags are gone, left outside overnight and now four and a half centuries away, but as we will be able to find any supplies we need in Glenridding I’m not too dismayed at that. I need to ascertain today’s date as soon as I can though, in order to know whether my disappearance will have been an issue, if my bank cards will still work, and if my car is likely to be where I left it.

On Robbie’s instructions I get dressed fast, opting to put on my original clothes, or at least those I still have. My trousers, vest, fleece, and boots were in my rucksack, no doubt packed in there by one of Elspeth’s servants in our mad dash to flee Glen Blair. I’m not sure what happened to my anorak, but it’s warm enough for just the fleece. I have no underwear or socks, so will have to make do. I check the side pockets of my bag and I’m relieved to find my car key, a credit card, and twenty-seven pounds and thirty-three pence in cash. Enough to get us home. To my home, in Manchester. All being well.

We pack up the tent, shove everything back in my bag, which Robbie hefts over his shoulder, and we start the hike downhill. I cast a last, rueful look at the dead tree as we pass. It’s a landmark I’ll never forget.

“We’ll look out of place, I daresay, when we reach this village. Will we be expecting bother then?” Will calls the question back to me as he leads the way. We’re following a rough path, evidence that this is a popular hiking route. We may meet others way before Glenridding.

“You’ll attract a few stares I should think; everyone admires a fine man in a kilt. But no one will say anything and there should be no bother. It’s a lot less of a big deal to stand out here. Or should that be now? We’ll need to get you some modern clothes as soon as we can, but you’ll be fine as you are. When we reach Glenridding we’ll just head straight for my car, assuming it’s still there, and get out of here.”

Robbie is walking behind me. “Your what?”

“My car. I suppose it’s the twenty-first century equivalent of a carriage, or coach. No horses though. It has an engine.”

“Ah.”

I glance over my shoulder. Robbie’s quizzical expression tells me he’s not much wiser, not that he seems to care. He flashes me one of his brilliant smiles and we drop the subject.

A few minutes later Will stops and crouches to scrabble in the springy grass beside the path.

“What are you doing?” I peer over his shoulder.

“I saw something. It was glinting, caught in the sun, then it disappeared.” He pulls the heather to one side. “There, look. What is that?”

“Shit! It can’t be.” I stare at the object, half buried, concealed in the thick vegetation. My phone, the one I dropped when Robbie grabbed me. I last saw it five days ago, or four and a half centuries, depending how you regard the matter. Just the top half is visible, the rest of it sunk into the earth. It’s unmistakable though, an iPhone 5.

Will grips the edge that is showing and gives it a tug. He has to wriggle it around and scrape away a little more earth, but it comes free. He holds it in his palm, looking from the bedraggled object to me.

“You say you recognise this? It’s yours?”

I nod, my brain racing as I take the item and turn it carefully in my hands. The screen is cracked, the once-white casing discoloured and stained. The slots on the sides are encrusted with dirt. It was almost buried under years of accumulated plant decay. No way has this phone lain here for just five days. Which leaves but one possibility as far as I can tell.

“It’s mine, yes. My phone. I dropped it when Robbie grabbed me. Back then.”

“Right? So, what are you saying? That it’s been here for…?”

I nod. “Yes, I think it must have been. I dropped this four hundred and forty-nine years ago, and by the look of it, it’s been here ever since.”

“Now, that’s quite something to contemplate,” breathes Robbie. “So, what is this object’s purpose? Or what was it?”

“It’s a mobile phone. A communication device. It’s linked to other similar devices, and you can talk to other people, wherever they are in the world. Or send written messages instantly. It’s very handy.”

He furrows his brow, but looks doubtful. “I imagine it would be. Does it still work?”

I give a dry laugh. My unfortunate phone has faced rather more than a bit of water damage over the years. “Hardly. I’ll need to get a new one. You’ll both need them too. Everyone has a phone here.”

“You can talk to anyone, anywhere in the world, you say?” Will sounds awed. Just wait till he encounters the Internet.

“Yes. Anyone.” I reach to shove the battered phone in the rucksack on his back. “Come on, we need to get to Glenridding and hopefully find my car.”

After an hour or so I call for Will to halt, and I consult my map. We have a further eight miles to walk, and we need food. Water is less of an issue as the terrain is crisscrossed with streams and rivulets, but we are all hungry. Ullswater is visible below us, and either of the men could supply us with fish if it comes to it. We decide to make a detour down to the water’s edge.

A few minutes later the sound of voices somewhere ahead stops us in our tracks. Will’s hand goes to the hilt of the dagger tucked in his belt with an alacrity I find disconcerting. Robbie steps forward, in front of me.

“It’s okay. Just hikers. They’re no threat. In fact, we may be able to do a deal…” I shove Robbie out of the way, with some difficulty, just as three figures in brightly coloured anoraks come into view. I dig my elbow in Will’s ribs. “For Christ’s sake, get that bloody knife out of sight. You’ll get us all locked up if you start brandishing an offensive weapon at any strangers you meet.”

“Who are you calling offensive, lassie?” he grumbles in response. But he does as I say and the knife is soon secreted about his person somewhere.

“Smile, and be nice, both of you. They may have food we could buy,” I mutter under my breath as I step forward, beaming at the oncoming group.

The lead hiker, a middle-aged man, smiles at me and nods a greeting. “Morning. Nice day for it.”

“Certainly is,” I agree. “How’s it going so far?”

“Champion.” He gazes up into the sky. “It’s going to be a grand day. And you?”

“Not bad. We’ve been camping, up by Red Tarn. Headed down into Glenridding now.”

“Right, well, enjoy.” The man makes to step past us, his entourage of two women ready to follow.

“I wonder, could we trouble you for a little help?”

He stops turns back to face me, looking concerned now. “If we can. Is something the matter?”

“Yes, sort of. We had a mishap with our supplies. Dropped the whole lot in the bloody lake.” I cast an accusatory look in Robbie’s direction. He manages to assume an air of pretend innocence, playing his part to perfection. “So, we’ve had no food since yesterday. I don’t suppose you have a couple of sandwiches or something that we could buy from you? Just to tide us over till we get to the village.”

One of the women, the younger of his companions manages to drag her gaze from Will’s torso long enough to answer me. “Oh, of course. We’ve got loads. Mum always packs enough for an army. We can spare a few butties.”

“Only if you’re sure…”

The older woman has already shed her backpack and is rummaging deep into the interior. “We are. It’s no problem, none at all. And you’ll not be paying us for them either. We wouldn’t hear of it. We fell walkers look out for each other, isn’t that right?”

“That’s very kind of you. It really is. You won’t be leaving yourselves short, will you?”

She is already thrusting a pack of homemade sandwiches at me. “No, we have plenty. We’d only end up carting half of this back down with us. Is beef all right? Or we have egg.”

“Beef is fine. Thank you so much. Are you sure we can’t give you anything for these?”

“Don’t be daft, love.” She is repacking her bag, ready to move on. “You’ll stand us a drink later perhaps, in the hiker’s bar?”

She’s referring to the bar annexed to the Ullswater hotel, right beside the lake in the middle of Glenridding. It’s a hostelry set aside for hikers and campers, does a roaring trade in hot soup and potatoes, and the dress code is somewhat more relaxed than would be found in the main hotel. They don’t throw a fit at the sight of muddy boots and dripping cagoules so it’s a popular watering hole after a day spent out on the fells.

“Right, right, we’ll look out for you in there.” I’m already exchanging hearty handshakes with the little party as they move off, clearly keen to be on their way. “Oh, one last thing, you don’t happen to know the right time, do you?”

The younger woman checks her watch. “Nearly half past eight.”

“Right, thanks. And … the date?”

Now she looks more surprised. “It’s the fifteenth, I think. Is that right?”

“Sixteenth, love,” her mother corrects her. “Our Danny’s birthday.”

Her daughter nods. “Right, yes. The sixteenth then.”

“Of April?”

All three are peering at me, their expressions more nervous.

“Yes, April. Are you quite all right, dear?” The older woman is clearly baffled by our apparent ignorance.

“Yes, we’re fine. Thank you.” I decide to throw caution to the winds and truly perplex them. After all, our paths are unlikely to cross again. “And the year is…?”

“What?” This from the man, now regarding us with more than a little suspicion.

“What year is it? Please?” I affect my most innocent and harmless look, whatever that might amount to, but it seems to do the trick.

“Twenty fourteen. Now if you’ll excuse us…” He’s heard enough and can’t get away fast enough. I think we’ve arrived at the same conclusion.

“Of course, and thank you again for the food. You’ve been very kind.”

Will and Robbie follow my example, further sweetening the deal with their rather winning smiles and expressions of undying gratitude. If our benefactors find it at all odd to encounter one bedraggled young woman who apparently doesn’t know what day it is, and two gorgeous men in Highland dress halfway up Helvellyn, they are too polite—or maybe too stunned—to make comment on it. We wave them on their way, then as soon as they are out of sight we sit down on the heather to eat our sandwiches.

“So, is everyone in this time so generous? We only had to ask them and they gave us their food.” Robbie makes the enquiry around a mouthful of beef on wholemeal.

“Not everyone, but most people are nice enough.”

Will grunts and swallows the last of his sandwich. “They seemed a mite disconcerted when you asked them the date. Can’t say I blame them probably, though it’s a good thing you got the food from them first, wee Charlie. We might have had to get more direct with them otherwise.”

I fix a hard stare on my face. They’ve done the strict ‘do as I say’ thing with me back in fifteen sixty-six, now it’s my turn—minus the spankings, of course. “No, we wouldn’t. You don’t go robbing hikers for their dinner, not round here.”

He shrugs. “Shame.”

Robbie finishes his meal too. “Did you arrange to meet them later? In a tavern, unless I’m mistaken.”

“It was a loose arrangement. I said we’d buy them a drink if we do see them, which seemed only right. We won’t see them again though. If my car starts all right I think we should just go to my flat, and from there work out what to do next.”

“Why would it not start, this car of yours?” Will looks at me, curious.

I flatten my lips. If Will and Robbie are to stay here, there are going to be so many new things for them to get their heads round. I found their century a challenge, so they are really up against it. At least I had some notion of what life was like a few hundred years ago, some frame of reference. For Will and Robbie, everything is new.