Because Geoff still couldn’t wait to tell Zoë what he really did for a living, he once again decided that the best moment to talk to her would be immediately after he’d seen her that morning when he was on his way to Canary Wharf. He was still excited, so it still didn’t occur to him that if Zoë saw him waiting on the other side of the street right after she’d just said goodbye to a past version of himself, it might come across as a bit weird. And he’d still forgotten that he looked completely different.
Geoff was shaking slightly. He had waited so long for this moment (plus a few extra seconds since the last attempt went wrong), and now it was finally here.
Again.
If Zoë actually saw him this time, he could show her who he really was, confess to her how he really felt. He still didn’t know how she would react, didn’t know if she would tell him that she felt the same way, or if she would find the whole thing a bit awkward, but right now he was just excited about being honest with her, albeit a little less excited since the last attempt had backfired slightly. He was still feeling nervous about what would happen when he told her, but once again he reassured himself that if this went wrong again, he could always rewind time and try again.
Which was already proving to be quite handy.
In fact, if he wasn’t careful, rewinding time to correct his mistakes could become quite addictive.
He’d put a bit more thought into how he would start the conversation this time, though, and before Zoë had a chance to put her headphones in and block out the world, he was ready with his opening.
“Hey, Zoë,” he called out, giving her a wave.
Zoë looked up and stared at him for a few seconds. It seemed to take her quite a while to realize who she was talking to.
“Wait a minute,” Zoë said, looking up and down at him. “Geoff?”
“Yup,” he said, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s me.”
“But I…” she pointed back down the road. “And you were…”
“Ah,” Geoff said, suddenly looking at the situation from her perspective. “You were just talking to me a moment ago, weren’t you?”
Zoë nodded.
“So I suppose this must look a bit weird.”
“You could say that!” Zoë put her post bag on the ground and took a few deep breaths. “How the hell did you change clothes so quickly? And how did you make yourself look so…”
“…clean?”
“Different. How did you make yourself look so different?”
“Oh,” Geoff said, just beginning to remember how he looked. He ran a hand across his smooth jawline and smiled. “I had a shave.”
“I can see that!” Zoë said. “And a haircut! How the hell did you do that so quickly?”
Geoff raised his hands to calm her down.
“Zoë—there’s something I have to tell you.”
“There is?”
“Yes—listen. This will explain everything. You know how I work as a holiday rep, showing people around London?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s not the whole picture. You see…these tourists…” he trailed off.
Zoë tilted her head to one side and waited for him to speak again.
“Yes?” she said.
“Let me put it another way,” he said. “What would your reaction be if I said that these tourists were from…” he trailed off again.
“What would my reaction be if you said these tourists were from…where? Sunderland?”
Geoff rubbed his eyes. “This is very difficult for me to explain,” he said.
Geoff sighed. He wanted to tell her everything—how he was employed as a Time Rep, how he had traveled as far back as prehistoric times, how he had defeated the most aggressive alien race ever encountered by humanity; but it was so difficult. He just didn’t know where to start.
He started to formulate a decent explanation in his mind, but by now it was too late. Zoë was beginning to give him a strange look. In fact, she looked a little worried for him, as though he’d just come up to her and told her he was having romantic thoughts about the cat.
This hadn’t gone to plan at all.
But he could always try again.