CHAPTER 23
Voice message left by Clove Sutcliffe at 13:29 on 4 January 2059:
Hey … I guess you’re in a class or something. I got your message. I hate fighting with you too. And obviously I forgive you. I was never really that mad at you.
This was all completely different to 1745 or 2040 or whatever anyway. It’s not a big deal. I probably made it sound like I was angrier than I was. I’m sorry if you’ve been worrying. It was nice, the surprise party.
I just … [loud exhalation] I hate when you make plans without telling me. I like to be in control. You’re very impulsive and mysterious – and I like that about you! It just takes a lot of getting used to. Especially when I don’t know what’s going on.
Obviously I’ve never, like … I’ve never done any of this relationship stuff before. I know I can be too harsh. I don’t know… I feel like this was my fault.
Anyway… I’m meeting Meg for lunch, so talk to you soon? We can discuss your many, many feelings about aliens then. [brief laugh]
Oh and … I don’t find it annoying that you’re always taking selfies. It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I did, seeing as I’m using one of your selfies as the lock screen on my watch.
I miss you. Bye.
File note: Voice message left for ELENORE WALKER from CLOVE SUTCLIFFE on 4 January 2059
Carlisle, England, 1745
The next day Clove went about her work in a daze. At the first opportunity, she escaped upstairs as quickly as possible. As she headed to her room, she caught sight of Katherine crossing the hall below and was reminded of how oddly she had acted when Clove had gone to her room that morning.
Katherine had been brushing her hair at the dressing table when Clove had arrived.
“You asked for this, Miss?” Clove had said, holding out a package of Matthew’s clothes for Katherine to wear at the castle. Katherine had told Matthew the night before that she wanted to help build up the city’s defences. Clove had been relieved to hear it. It meant she hadn’t accidentally changed the past – at least not yet.
“Oh! Yes, thank you.” Katherine had taken the package, smiling at the pheasant feather that Matthew had tucked into the knot.
“Will there be anything else?” Clove had asked, ducking her head to hide a grin. Her parents were so sweet.
Katherine had run her fingers along the feather, deliberately not looking at Clove. “Have you had any news of the Jacobites?” she had asked.
Clove had tried not to frown. Katherine’s tone was too carefully casual. Besides, why would she come to Clove for news … unless she had heard something of her conversation with Matthew yesterday?
“I haven’t, no.”
“What – what do you think of the rebellion? Do you think it has any chance of success?”
“I don’t really know much about it, Miss.”
“Oh, really? I thought I heard you discussing it with the coachman.” Katherine’s voice had turned sharp, fast.
Clove had realized, slightly amused and concerned, that Katherine was suspicious of Matthew. Did she really think he was a Rebel? Clove hadn’t known what to say. Every time she opened her mouth she only seemed to make things worse. She had done the only thing she could think of, which had been to excuse herself and run from the room.
She sighed now. She really hoped she hadn’t broken the future. As she entered the room she shared with Ella, she caught sight of a flashing light coming from behind the flowerpot on the windowsill. Her heart jumped into her throat. Her watch! It was working again!
Clove almost cried with relief when she turned it on and Spart’s typical greeting of HELLO CLOVE appeared on the screen.
“Spart!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking. “I can’t even explain how good it is to see you.”
> I believe I feel the same in reference to yourself. What has happened since—
> CLOVE, I am picking up a radio signal.
> It’s a message. The communication is broadcasting on a loop.
“What? What does it say?”
> It’s from me. To be specific, the message is from the copy of my program which you left on the time machine’s hard drive in the laboratory at the University of St Andrews in 2056.
> SPART-LAB must be sending the radio signal through the wormhole to 1745 and broadcasting it on a loop to make sure I pick up the message.
> Message reads:
CLOVE SUTCLIFFE COME HOME AM RUNNING OUT OF MEMORY CANNOT CONTROL WORMHOLE MUCH LONGER SPART
CLOVE SUTCLIFFE COME HOME AM RUNNING OUT OF MEMORY CAN NOT CONTROL WORMHOLE MUCH LONGER SPART
CLOVE SUTCLIFFE COME HOME AM RUNNING OUT OF MEMORY CAN NOT CONTROL WORMHOLE MUCH LONGER SPART
“We have to go! Now! If you’re running out of memory then I could be stranded!” Just the thought made Clove frantic. She had to go home. Now. She couldn’t stay here, not if it would be for ever. She’d had enough time to consider the consequences of that happening. She knew she couldn’t do it.
Clove began throwing her belongings into her bag. “Is the message still running? He’s still there?” she asked, buckling her watch onto her wrist.
> It’s still broadcasting. I have sent a radio message back to tell SPART-LAB our coordinates, so that he can open the wormhole here immediately. I’m scanning for a reply now.
> You should hurry. If SPART-LAB runs out of storage then he can’t operate the wormhole to bring you home.
“I’m going. Give him the coordinates for the stables. There’ll be enough room for the wormhole to open there without anyone seeing it – and I need to talk to Matthew before I leave.” She had seen Matthew at lunch, when she had warned him that Katherine was suspicious that he might be a Rebel, but there was still so much she wanted to say to him.
“Matthew, I need to go!” Clove exclaimed, panting from the run and already sweating in the radiation suit.
“Go? Where?”
“Home! I have to leave! It’s an … it’s an emergency!”
Matthew blinked at her. “Are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.” Clove checked her watch. The screen was still showing the message:
> … broadcasting to SPART-LAB …
“Probably not. I mean, it’s really, really unlikely. I’m so sorry.” Clove felt a sudden desperate urge to hug Matthew. “I’m so glad I met you. I wish we’d had longer to talk. I have so much to tell you. You will remember what I said, won’t you? About not changing things? I don’t know what will happen if you do.”
“I promise,” Matthew said.
Clove didn’t entirely believe him. “I have to go,” she repeated.
“Let me walk you to the gate,” Matthew said.
“No, now, here.”
Matthew just stared at her.
“You have to leave,” she said. He couldn’t be here, not when the wormhole opened.
“What? I thought you were leaving…” His words trailed off. The air in front of them had started to tremble.
“You promised me,” Clove repeated urgently, watching the shimmering air. “Remember. Don’t change anything.”
“What is that—?” Matthew had gone pale.
“Goodbye,” Clove said. The wormhole had appeared, and she could see a glimpse of the lab through it. She swallowed, and took a step towards it. “Promise me,” she urged again. “Don’t change anything about the future. You have to let Katherine die. That’s what has to happen.”
“I promise.” Matthew forced the words out. He couldn’t take his eyes off the wormhole.
Taking one last look at Matthew’s shocked face, Clove put on the helmet and then stepped through the wormhole. The sky tilted into the ground. Her body was heavy and light and solid and liquid all at once, and then she landed with a crash on the floor of the lab, the air bursting from her lungs at the impact.
Matthew’s last words echoed in her mind: “I promise.” Clove wasn’t sure she believed him.