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“Serves you right for turning my broom into a car,” was Judith’s unsympathetic response to Bran’s latest complaint about their speed restrictions. “We could fly above this smog.”
Since all five of them riding a speed-demon broom gave Abbie shudders, she changed the subject. “Bran, should we give our Grandma Ruby a head’s up we’re coming to Hythe?”
“What would we say?” He glanced at her through the mirror. “I doubt she’ll believe someone on a phone telling her they’re here from the future.”
Abbie settled in her corner of the backseat beside Mrs. Beckwith. “A surprise visit then.”
“My husband and I travel to Hythe often,” Mrs. Beckwith mused aloud. “It’s a lovely spot. Hythe means Haven in Old English. I can’t wait to see what it looks like in 1959.” She mimed excitedly clapping. “Where does your grandmother live? Along the coast?”
“Inland.” Abbie glanced with curiosity at the older lady.
“Do we have an address?” Judith asked from the front passenger seat.
“She has a house on Green Road.” Abbie gave the exact street number.
Margaret Grimshaw had texted the address and asked why Abbie was interested in old family history. Abbie promised to give her the entire story on her parents’ return home from their holiday. She now prayed she’d make it back to her own time to keep that promise.
“Did your grandmother live there long?” Mrs. Beckwith asked. “Does the house still belong to your family?”
“The story goes that the Grimshaw family bought that house for a pittance in the early eighteen hundreds from a generous patron,” Abbie said. “After Grandma Ruby died, though, the family sold it to the English Heritage Trust.”
“If it belongs to the National Heritage Collection,” Mrs. Beckwith said, “they’re sure to allow tours. I’ll look it up once home. I adore learning about our past. This experience has been like a living history lesson. I’m so glad you swept me up into your adventure.”
“That reminds me, Gran,” Judith said, turning to face the older witch. “How did you end up being pulled into the past?”
“Excellent question.” Abbie leaned past Mrs. Beckwith to glance at Granny Chan. “Did someone interrupt you that morning while you were checking into your past? And why did you pick that morning, of all days, to cast your spell, when I was on my way over with the kids?”
“When you asked me to watch your children,” Granny Chan said, her gaze on her hands resting flat on her lap, “I remembered seeing a Grimm out the window of my London flat the night Liwei left me. That’s why I took so long to agree to watch your kids.” She finally met Abbie’s gaze. “I’ve been holding a grudge against your family for his loss.”
“You saw me back then?” Abbie asked, shocked. “That means...”
“If Gran remembers you,” Judith said in a whisper, “we were meant to come now.”
Bran slowed the car—he’d been speeding again when he thought no one noticed. His surprised gaze met Abbie’s before swinging to Granny Chan and then the road ahead.
“I don’t know why we had to do this,” Abbie said. “Or even if we were supposed to. All I’ve been trying to ensure is to not change our future. But maybe we’re meant to change it? Yet, Kali warned me to be careful that we don’t adversely affect the karmic cycle. The lessons we learn in life.”
“Nothing’s changed as far as I can recall,” Granny Chan said. “Up to this point, anyway. Tomorrow, after I put in my Missing Persons report for Liwei,” her chin lifted with pride, “I’ll be traveling to Hythe to see the Grimm for answers.”
“But how did you know where to...” Bran stopped mid-sentence. “Never mind.”
“What did she say when you two spoke?” Abbie asked, curious. There could be a clue in there about what might happen next.
“She wasn’t there,” Granny Chan said. “She’d locked up the house and left. The front garden looked like a recent battlefield, with new craters and scorched plants.”
Abbie sat back, worry gnawing. What were they about to walk into? Would Grandma Ruby be missing tomorrow because they contacted her today?
“Gran,” Judith said in a gentle voice, “why did you cast that spell?”
“Once Abbie asked me to be her kids’ nanny, I put out feelers for a spell I could use to see the past, the truth.” She gave Judith a sorrowful glance. “I wanted to speak to you about that last night, Jude. Maybe have you join me, in case what I found out affected your friendship with Abbie. Instead, we fought.”
“I’m sorry, Gran,” Judith said. “It was a stupid row.”
Granny Chan patted her shoulder in comfort. “All’s forgiven. I know you went to Mr. Brown’s because you wanted to protect me. But he’s not my enemy. We’re friends, even if we don’t act it.” She smiled and shook her head. “Even wise old witches can be foolish occasionally. I like him, but that makes me feel guilty about your gramps. Guilt I’ve carried because of Liwei. Do you realize that today will be the day I meet your gramps?”
“Oh, I’d forgotten that old story,” Judith said. “He took your Missing Persons report.”
“Yes. It was the start of another controversial relationship. Your gramps used that case, and so many others, as his excuse to see me.”
Judith chuckled. “Yes, the cases he kept asking you to help him solve.”
“Oh, how romantic,” Mrs. Beckwith said, enchanted.
“He was more than capable of solving them on his own,” Granny Chan said with asperity. “But we had fun. He was right about one thing. The more time we spent together, the less I thought about Liwei. Eventually, I forgot all about my first love.”
“As you should have,” Abbie said. “Liwei was a mirage. What you had with your husband sounds real.”
“I wish I’d known that and appreciated it more while he was still alive,” Granny Chan said in a nostalgic tone. Catching Judith’s gaze, she pointedly tilted her head toward Bran. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, all of you. Appreciate what you have when you have it. Love can slip out of our fingers far too fast and oh so easily.”
Judith nodded and covered Bran’s hand on the stick shift.
He started and then gave her the sweetest of smiles.
Her brother then relaxed into his seat and settled, as if he’d finally found a reason to slow down.
“As for Mr. Brown,” Granny Chan said, also sitting back, “with his bigoted upbringing and my experience with Liwei, the only way we feel comfortable showing our fondness is with our tiffs.” She shook her head at their foolishness. “Anyway, after you left, I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if a Grimm had taken out Liwei. So, I sent Comet to guide Abbie while I cast my spell.”
“Gran,” Judith said, as Abbie bit her lip to keep from blurting out the bad news, “Mr. Brown is dead.”
“What? How?” Granny Chan asked surging forward. “He had a heart condition. I told him repeatedly to try one of my potions, but the man was so stubborn.” She sighed and sat back. “And I wasn’t there to help him.”
“It wasn’t a heart attack, Gran,” Judith said, gently. “The morning you disappeared, an intruder in our back garden stabbed him.”
“What?” Granny Chan clutched her chest. “Oh, no.”
“The same morning that someone interrupted you,” Judith said. “Who was it?”
“Poppy,” Granny Chan and Mrs. Beckwith said together.
They glanced at each other and then Mrs. Beckwith added, “She’s the one who asked me to retrieve the scarf she lost in your garden. The morning that poor man died.”
Abbie took Mrs. Beckwith’s hand. “Your confession might save your life.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Is my husband in danger because I agreed to look for the scarf?”
“We believe the immortal who set up Liwei to come after Gran’s younger self also employed Poppy in our time,” Judith explained. “I doubt he or Poppy would allow you to remain alive to tell tales.”
Mrs. Beckwith gasped.
“You’ll have to make a statement,” Judith said. “Once you do, there will no longer be any reason to come after you or your family.”
“Except for revenge,” Mrs. Beckwith said, still anxious.
“Not if they’re busy worrying about repercussions to themselves.” Abbie patted the older woman’s hand in comfort.
“Oh!” Mrs. Beckwith said, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before. I truly believed Poppy was incapable of murder.”
Abbie nodded, understanding that. “She threw several fireballs at me the first time we met,” she said. “Poppy’s a witch, after all, and I’m a Grimm. But, by the end, I rather liked her.”
Poppy hadn’t felt dangerous, and according to Granny Chan, Abbie had good instincts.
“It surprises me, too,” Granny Chan said. “I wouldn’t have thought her a killer.”
“Once we’re home, I’ll contact the DI Turner to question her,” Judith said. “See if we can get the name of who put her up to it.”
“I doubt she’ll give up the immortal,” Granny Chan said. “Such creatures are dangerous and have allies everywhere. I can see why he sent her to interfere with my scrying into the past. If word came to him from Poppy that I was interested in finding out more about Liwei, he would have wanted to stop me in case it led back to him. Arresting Poppy might save her life, too.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t send her over the night before,” Judith said. “He couldn’t have known you’d put off casting the spell until the next morning.”
“Poppy said she was in a freak car accident the night before,” Mrs. Beckwith said. “She ended up receiving a head injury, and the doctors insisted she stay overnight. She discharged herself early the next morning.”
Mrs. Beckwith shook her head. “She probably shouldn’t have left the hospital, but she said she had an important errand to run. Poppy thought that’s why she mislaid her scarf after stopping by Granny Chan’s place. Her concussion made her distracted.”
“She couldn’t have broken through my house protections,” Granny Chan said. “She not that strong.”
“But she had the dragon scarf,” Abbie said. “Its magic might have been powerful enough to break through your barriers. Except, we believe at the moment she cast her spell with that scarf, Mr. Brown interrupted her and you cast your spell.”
“If that young witch had cast her spell the night before,” Judith said, looking pale, “the scarf’s magic could have killed you, Gran.”
“You’re also lucky,” Bran said, “that Poppy didn’t get dragged into 1959 with you.”
“That might not have happened,” Abbie said, “because she wasn’t thinking about her.”
“The way you and I were concerned about Bran,” Judith said, nodding her head in understanding.
“Who knows?” Granny Chan shook her head. “The immortal is a foolish fellow. This entire journey wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t interfered.”
“Wow,” Bran said, eloquently expressing everyone’s emotions at the time loop the immortal had inadvertently created. “Gives ‘Be careful what you wish for’ a new slant.”
He then pulled over into a petrol station’s forecourt. “Time to fill ‘er up.”
An attendant approached, smoking and carrying a rag. Bran stepped out to speak to him.
“Personal service,” Judith said, also getting out and stretching her arms. “Miss that.”
Abbie exited and took a deep breath. Then she coughed as she got a lungful of stinking, smog-laden air. She wouldn’t miss this aspect of their past.
“Look,” Mrs. Beckwith said from beside her, pointing. “The price for a liter of petrol is only twenty-two pence.”
That shocking revelation, along with the stinky air, reminded Abbie she was far from home and missing her kids. She suddenly desperately wanted to return home, even with all its complications, rising expenses, and looming catastrophes.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow the immortal to have a free run of her future.
“That grocer across the street is advertising a loaf of bread for fourpence,” Mrs. Beckwith continued, still awed by the price differences. “Do you suppose if I buy a loaf, it will be good when we get home? I’d love to know how bread from 1959 tastes. Bet it’s amazing.”
“Let’s go buy some and find out,” Judith suggested, taking her Gran’s hand. “There’s a café next to the grocer. It’s early, but I haven’t eaten in hours.”
“Be quick about it then,” Abbie said.
“Aren’t you coming?” Judith asked.
Abbie shook her head. This was not the time to leave the non-magical folks in her group unguarded. Judith and her gran could watch out for Mrs. Beckwith, while Abbie kept an eye on Bran. The immortal could be anywhere. She wasn’t certain he hadn’t followed them out of London. It paid to remain vigilant. “Bring us back something.”
“Will do,” Judith promised, wrapping an arm around her gran, who was unusually quiet. She still looked shocked and heartbroken after hearing that Mr. Brown was dead.
Abbie hoped she received a bit of comfort from knowing that, unlike Liwei, who had betrayed her, Mr. Brown had died trying to protect her.
Leaving Abbie behind with enough old money to cover the cost of petrol, the three women crossed the street. Once they had safely entered the café, Abbie turned to observe her brother quiz the attendant about all aspects of his work. Warm contentment flooded her to see Bran so engaged. Being back with Judith was good for him.
By the time the flow of information dried up, the ladies returned with a handful of paper-wrapped packages.
“Rather than buying a loaf,” Mrs. Beckwith said as she got into the car, “we purchased sandwiches. Since it was so early, the girl made them for us special. She called them Coronation Chicken. They only cost sixpence each. Can you imagine that?”
Once they were back on the road, Abbie bit into her large sandwich made of thick slices of bread, an exotic mix of cooked chicken, mayonnaise, and curry powder. Mrs. Beckwith was right; the bread was soft, rich, and thick. Judith was right as well. Abbie, too, had been starving.
By the time they finished eating, they were approaching the turnoff for Hythe.
“I wonder why Poppy is involved in this mess?” Granny Chan mused. The elderly witch had been quiet for a while.
“What happened after you spotted her?” Judith asked, scrunching up her empty wrapping.
“It happened so quick,” Granny Chan said. “Before I could halt my spell, she cast hers and our magics collided. The crashing spells tossed me into a dark tunnel.”
“That must be when Mr. Brown interrupted Poppy,” Judith said.
“And she dropped her magical dragon scarf,” Mrs. Beckwith said.
The elder witch turned to her. “Did you find it?”
“Yes, but...” she began.
“The material was already half-burnt,” Bran said from the driver’s seat, “and the rest exploded when we fought over it. That flung us into Abbie and Judith’s time travel spell.”
“Too bad,” Granny Chan said. “We might have been able to use it to return home.”
“You have a tiny scrap left, don’t you, Bran?” Abbie said, growing hopeful at that suggestion. “Can we use that bit?”
“May I see it?” Granny Chan asked.
“Hang on until I pull over at a lay-by,” Bran said. It had been a lonely drive heading down to Hythe with hardly any traffic. He took the slip-road to the turnoff and then, pulling over, dug into his pocket and fished out the rag and broken hourglass.
Both Abbie and Granny Chan reached for it. The moment their hands met, a spark flared.
“What happened?” Mrs. Beckwith asked in a frightened voice.
“Sorry,” Granny Chan and Abbie said. They moved aside so Bran could open his fist.
On his palm sat the hourglass, perfectly, extraordinarily, intact. Except, now it had pink sand in its cylinders. The sand looked to have been flowing for quite a while.
“That’s odd,” Judith said, first to speak. “The one we brought had white sand.”
“And it broke when we landed,” Abbie said, in awe.
“Does this mean we no longer need to go to Hythe to get another one?” Mrs. Beckwith asked, leaning closer with fascination to study the newly intact hourglass.
“Isn’t the pink hourglass the endpoint?” Bran asked. “How can we use it to travel home?”
“I don’t know,” Abbie said, not ready to give up on returning to her kids. “This has to be the one we brought, no matter what color sand it now contains. Yousef turned his hourglass when I turned mine. So, if both hourglasses are synced, at least this gives us an accurate estimate of when we must return home.”
Bran nodded. “I get it. We now know how much time we have left. Fingers crossed this one is simply our hourglass reformed because of that slip of magical pink scarf I carried with it.” He said all the right words, but looked as nervous as the rest of them. “Let’s talk about how to approach Grandma Ruby because we still need her white sand one to travel. Yes?”
“We could simply sneak into her home,” Judith said, “and steal hers.”
The idea was tempting. Quietly taking the hourglass would bypass interference with people of this timeline.
“What happens if she catches us?” Bran asked.
“Confess all and hope she doesn’t kill us?” Judith suggested.
Looking unhappy at that potential outcome, Bran said, “Abbie-girl, could you ask Klaus from this timeline to give us the hourglass as you did before?”
“Who’s Klaus?” Mrs. Beckwith asked, taking the hourglass from Bran and sitting back for a closer look.
“My Grimm book,” Abbie said and left it at that. “I doubt I can reach him, since, right now, he belongs to Grandma Ruby. But I can try.”
She sat back, shut her eyes, held out her arms, and mentally reached out to the book. “Klaus. Come to me.”
The air above Abbie’s arms vibrated and Klaus descended, but then, as quickly, vanished.
“What happened?” Bran asked.
Abbie opened her eyes and met Bran’s gaze with deep worry. “We won’t have to call Grandma Ruby anymore. She’s now on alert that someone’s coming her way and that we’re after her book. We better have a defensive plan before we approach her home.”
“If we get our grandma’s hourglass,” Bran said, putting the car into gear and setting off again, “will it still be available in our timeline for us to use to come here?”
A mind twist, to be certain.
“If we don’t use it,” Mrs. Beckwith reminded them, “we don’t return.”
“The only way around this conundrum,” Judith said, “is if one of us stays behind to hold it in this timeline, so it will be here when we need it in the future.”
They all sat back and thought about that.
“It should be me,” Granny Chan finally said. “It’s my fault we’re all in this mess.”
“No!” Judith said instantly. “I’ll stay.”
“Not without me,” Bran replied in a decisive tone.
“Do you want me to stay?” Mrs. Beckwith asked, sounding tremulous. “I hope not. I love the idea of visiting this time period, but I don’t want to be stuck here.”