KitKat 12:47:04 |
Hey Matthew |
KitKat 12:49:39 |
Matthew |
KitKat 13:05:52 |
Matthew? |
Gallows Humour 13:07:43 |
Katherine, I can’t talk rn. |
KitKat 13:08:01 |
:( |
Gallows Humour 13:09:10 |
All right, what’s up? |
KitKat 13:09:36 |
!! What’s your favourite hobby: dancing in the woods, singing, collecting things, talking to small animals, or baking? |
Gallows Humour 13:10:33 |
………… what |
KitKat 13:10:55 |
I was just, you know, wondering. What would you say the answer was? |
Gallows Humour 13:11:30 |
I don’t understand what’s happening right now |
KitKat 13:12:08 |
Just a wife who wants to know more about the man she loves, babycakes. Is that such a bad thing? I’m sure there are things you don’t know about me. |
KitKat 13:12:53 |
Like did you know that until today I’d never tried Pimms? |
Gallows Humour 13:13:37 |
Are you drunk? |
KitKat 13:14:10 |
Um. No? Well, they were giving out free samples at the supermarket when I went to get lunch and I got a little over eager. |
Gallows Humour 13:14:59 |
Please say you’re at home, and not scandalizing the doctorates in the lunchroom. |
KitKat 13:15:48 |
…… |
Gallows Humour 13:17:12 |
Katherine? |
KitKat 13:18:22 |
I’m, er, not in the lunchroom. Any more. |
KitKat 13:18:45 |
Who would your ideal prince be? Your childhood friend, Prince Charming or a strong warrior? |
Gallows Humour 13:19:10 |
I don’t want to know which Disney Princess I am. I’ve told you before, stop doing online quizzes. Leave it. |
Gallows Humour 13:22:19 |
He would love me for myself. |
KitKat 13:22:57 |
Tell me about your dress. |
Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-133
Kate felt almost sick with nerves as she waited for Matt to arrive for their next lab session. She couldn’t believe that it had only been a few days since they’d met. She felt like her whole world had changed since then. It felt like a lifetime ago.
She hadn’t slept well since her grandparents had told her about her aunt, and even when talking to her friends she hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of their first-year gossip. She kept having odd dreams about the Galloways, but they were never in the right place. They were always too far back in history, dressed in old-fashioned clothing.
Matt arrived while Kate was arranging their incubated Petri dishes. He struggled out of a black waistcoat and into his crumpled lab coat. Kate took the opportunity to admire the tight fit of his jeans. When he spun round to face her, she jerked her gaze up guiltily.
“Morning!” he said cheerfully. He ran a hand through his hair. It stuck up straight for a moment and then collapsed in on itself, pointing in all directions.
“Hi,” she mumbled. How was she going to bring the subject up? Could she just ask whether he happened to have any terrorists in his family? She settled on, “I need to talk to you later.”
“Sure,” he said, surprised. “We can go and get coffee, if you want?” He grinned at her, and then his smile faded. “Hey, are you OK?”
“Uh. Not really.”
“What’s wrong?”
She sighed, looking around the lab. She really didn’t want to do this here. Everyone else was working quietly. By the looks of things, most of her lab group were hungover.
“Kate?”
She swallowed. “Is there anyone else in your family called Matthew?” The words came out uncertain, a little hesitant.
He stared down at his lab book. “Oh.”
“You know, then?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I recognized you. Obviously. You look just like her. But you didn’t seem to recognize me. I didn’t want to mention it in case you didn’t know.” Matt leant in close, voice pitched low. His eyes were clear, earnest. “Do you believe they did it?”
Kate lowered her voice too. “No.” She fished in her bag for a few sheets of paper among the bundle of photographs and documents that her grandparents had let her borrow. It was a jokey PowerPoint presentation that her aunt had written for her uncle. “Look at this. I found it in some papers my grandparents gave me. Do you really think a terrorist could have written it?”
Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2018/MS-32
“Don’t you think she’s funny?” Kate asked, grinning, as Matt finished reading it.
“I guess,” Matt admitted. He tilted his head, staring at the pie chart with a look of bemusement. There was a nick on his neck where he’d cut himself shaving. “She’s got a very … distinctive sense of humour.”
Kate felt a little offended on Katherine’s behalf. “I think she’s hilarious.”
Matt was still staring at the paper. “Kate,” he said, slow and thoughtful. “Do your grandparents have any more of this kind of stuff?”
“I dunno. Why?”
“Because it might have the answer.”
Kate was surprised by the excitement in his voice. “What? How?”
“If they have any of Katherine and Matthew’s research, like their lab books or something, it might help to prove that they weren’t making a weapon – that they were just doing their jobs.”
“That’s true! We can go and visit them after labs if you want. You really think Katherine and Matthew might be innocent?”
He nodded. “Ever since I found out about my uncle and your aunt, I’ve thought it wasn’t right. My parents don’t want me to get involved. They think I should just leave it alone, but I can’t.” He folded his arms and then unfolded them. “Actually … that’s why I’m here.”
“What?”
“I applied to Nottingham Uni so I could get into England. I wanted an opportunity to visit the lab they worked at, to see if I could find any evidence to prove that they didn’t do it. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“Wow,” Kate said. “I only came here because a girl at a careers fair told me they did good field trips. But I do want to prove that Katherine and Matthew are innocent. Will it be dangerous?”
Matt didn’t reply, but Kate knew the answer. This wasn’t going to end well. They stared at each other, like rabbits caught in the same headlights.
They were a week into their journey and Matthew had already started interviewing soldiers for his first article. He was planning to post it to The Times as soon as they landed at Varna, Bulgaria, in a fortnight. He flashed a charming smile at one of the officers supervising the cooking of dinner in the kitchens, dimples appearing in his cheeks.
“Sergeant Woodward, may I introduce myself?”
Katy’s heart sank. Matthew was in journalist-mode and he was annoyingly efficient. He sounded experienced and responsible. He would definitely be able to pick up on anything Katy did to try and influence him to change his articles.
The sergeant looked at the two of them with mild interest. He pulled a fat cigar from his mouth and nodded.
“I’m Matthew Galloway, war correspondent for The Times. Lord Raglan may have mentioned that I was accompanying this regiment?”
Katy was suddenly alert. Lord Raglan was her employer, Lord Somerset. Raglan was what he was called by the general public. That must be why Matthew hadn’t been suspicious of Katy’s reference. He only knew the famous army general as Lord Raglan. If he found out who Lord Somerset really was, he might guess that Katy was spying on him. She winced.
The officer chewed on the end of his cigar thoughtfully, before replying, “I do recall my superior mentioning something to that effect. Frightfully odd business. What if the Russians got hold of your dispatches and discovered our tactics?”
Matthew gave a nervous laugh that failed to convince either Katy, or the sergeant, judging by his expression.
“Anything I send will be long out of date when it reaches the Russians,” Matthew said. “I will make sure there are no breaches in security. That would do more harm than good, and I intend to do good here.”
“What do you mean ‘good’? How can a journalist help the war effort?” the sergeant asked.
“I’m dedicated to providing Britain with the most accurate account of the war that I can, Sir,” Matthew responded. “I believe that a regular supply of news straight from our loyal and valiant army will encourage people at home to support the war effort.”
The sergeant, cheeks red from the clouds of steam in the kitchen, looked pleased at this compliment to his regiment. “So how might I be of service, Sir?” he asked.
Matthew pulled out his notebook. “I understand that you have already visited the army encampment at Varna, when you accompanied another regiment there. May I ask you a few questions about your experiences at the front so far?”
The sergeant nodded, and Matthew asked him some basic questions about the army’s conditions. He interrupted a monologue on the officers’ misuse of their revolvers to ask, “Were there any problems with the administration of the army?”
“Last time I was there, there weren’t enough interpreters,” the sergeant said. “You could never understand a goddamn thing the locals were saying. Of course, there was the usual lack of mechanics, wheelwrights, and the like – but that’s only to be expected during a war when the demand for repairs is so much higher.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“Well…” He looked unsure, but said, “There wasn’t enough forage for the horses. Some of them became very colicky – it was terrible. I dread to think what condition they’re in now.”
Katy wondered, not for the first time, whether what Matthew was doing – reporting on the everyday lives of the men at the front – wasn’t such a bad thing. People at home should know what was happening, especially if a lack of supplies had an impact on the war.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Matthew asked as they made their way back onto deck. “Is anything the matter?”
A familiar feeling of guilt rose in her throat. She watched a seagull spiral overhead before asking carefully, “Are you going to put everything he said into your article?”
“Of course,” he replied easily. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t think it would help anything. I mean, his complaints weren’t really important. No one is going to care about bad tobacco, are they?”
“Maybe not – but they will care that the horses are being kept in bad conditions.”
“I just think it’s a bad idea to report on something which you haven’t seen for yourself,” she replied. “He could have it all wrong. Why don’t you wait until we arrive in Varna and are able to see if he was right?”
Matthew agreed with her idea, and Katy tried, unsuccessfully, not to feel guilty. Her loyalty to Lord Somerset, her employer, had to be her first priority.
It was the morning after her conversation with Matthew about volunteering at the castle. Katherine was brushing her hair when Anise knocked quietly on her door and entered her bedroom. She was carrying a wrapped package, tied with twine.
“You asked for this, Miss,” the maid said.
“Oh! Yes, thank you.” It was the clothes from Matthew. She took the package, noticing that he’d tucked a pheasant feather into the knot of the binding. She clutched it tightly.
“Will there be anything else?” Anise asked. She spoke quietly, almost under her breath. Katherine would never have guessed that she was a Rebel if she hadn’t overheard her conversation with Matthew the other day. She seemed so shy and restrained now. She had been completely different when talking to Matthew.
“Have you had any news of the Jacobites?” Katherine asked. She had to see if she could find out anything from this girl. She might be able to get an idea of their plans.
Anise didn’t answer for several seconds, and then finally said quietly, “I haven’t, no.”
Katherine cast about for something else to say. “What – what do you think of the rebellion? Do you think it has any chance of success?”
Anise shot her an odd look. “I don’t really know much about it, Miss.”
“Oh, really? I thought I heard you discussing it with the coachman.” The minute she’d finished speaking she realized it had been the wrong thing to say.
Anise blinked at her. “Excuse me, Miss.” She turned and left the room without a backward glance, or even a curtsy.
Well, that hadn’t worked out at all.
After unwrapping the package, Katherine quickly pulled Matthew’s shirt on. It was freshly laundered, but it still smelt of him. It was slightly too large around the shoulders, but the trousers fitted almost too well – they were very snug. Next she pulled on the waistcoat. The simple act of dressing in men’s clothing felt naughtier than she’d expected. It felt almost delightfully illicit.
When she was dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. The result was better than she had hoped. She was a little too pale to really pass as a working boy, but it would do. She pinned her hair under a cap.
Matthew was grooming a horse in the stables when she went to meet him. “It fits well,” he said, a blush rising to his cheeks as he took in the sight of her wearing his clothes.
“Yes, it does. Shall we go?” Katherine found herself fidgeting nervously. She was suddenly very aware of how revealing the trousers were.
They walked to the town square, where a meeting about the uprising was to take place. Matthew collapsed onto the steps that led up to the large cross in the centre of the square. He yawned into his palm. Katherine sat beside him. She reached down to arrange her skirts without thinking. She smiled and stroked her hands down the trouser legs instead. She could get used to this. Her initial self-consciousness was gone.
People were starting to stream into the square – a few elderly men who formed the castle’s garrison and the volunteer militia, which was made up of younger local men. The latter was more of a social club than a military force, and they strolled up in a dense gang, talking loudly to each other and catcalling at a passing maid.
Then the colonel arrived. He was in the middle of an intense monologue and surrounded by members of the city council, who were listening raptly to his words. He was old – over sixty. Katherine couldn’t remember seeing anyone of his age in the army before, but it might not be a bad thing, especially if it meant that he had a lot of experience. In his smart uniform and shiny boots, he was in stark contrast to the rumpled, hungover men of the militia.
The soldiers, young and old, fell silent, watching his approach. Katherine climbed onto the higher steps so she could see him over the crowds. Matthew scrambled up beside her to get a better view of the spectacle.
The colonel regarded the group of men dispassionately. Eventually he cleared his throat. “My name is Colonel Durand. I’ve come from London to help prepare the defences of Carlisle. I’ve looked at the current situation, and there’s a lot to be done, but I’m confident that Carlisle will soon be able to withstand any attacks.
“However, I will need people to restore the cannons, dig ditches, and clear the farmland so there’s a clear line of sight. The most important job is to improve the strength of the castle walls, which are in poor condition. The mortar is at least two centuries old.
“We’re also going to be collecting provisions of food to store in the castle in case we have to face a siege. I hope the citizens and militia of Carlisle will help their city in its hour of need, and by the time we next meet I believe we will have more confidence in the state of the preparations.” He gave a short bow and there was a smattering of applause from the militia. Katherine was almost certain it was ironic.
Katherine, however, was immensely satisfied with the meeting. Colonel Durand seemed so confident and experienced. She felt sure his strategies were sound. It was a little concerning that he had outlined in such detail how bad the defences were, though. He had made Carlisle seem like an easy target. They would have to work hard to make sure the city could stand up to any attack. She looked over at Matthew to see how he had reacted to the news of the weak defences, but he was staring out across the square, his expression impossible to read.