Chasing Stars Page 4

My stomach rolled over. ‘Do we have to?’

  ‘I’d sooner know where she is.’

  ‘What if she sees us following her?’

  ‘She won’t.’

  ‘Ryan –’

  ‘Look, you head back to the guest house. I’ll follow the cleaner. As soon as I know where she’s staying, I’ll come back. I won’t sleep if I don’t know where she is.’

  The only thing worse than following Lauren was the thought of sitting alone in my room, worrying whether Ryan was OK.

  ‘I don’t want to be apart from you.’

  ‘It will be easier to follow her if I’m alone. She knows you, but she doesn’t know me from Adam.’ He pushed the room key into my hand. ‘I promise I’ll come straight to the room as soon as I know where she is.’ He took another look. ‘She’s coming this way. Go.’

  I slipped the room key into my pocket and walked briskly up the road towards the guest house without looking back. This was not how I’d imagined our evening ending.

  Back in our room, the smell of paint had faded and been replaced by the fresh laundry scent of the bedsheets. I closed the windows and the curtains and sat on the edge of the bed. Ryan seemed confident that Lauren being here was just a horrible coincidence. I needed to put her out of my mind.

  I brushed my teeth and checked my breath and then dug through my overnight case for my pyjamas. They were a vest top and cropped bottoms with pink and white love hearts all over them. They were cute, girly, the opposite of sexy. If I’d had more notice about our little trip away, I would have bought myself something more sophisticated. Did Ryan expect to find me draped across the bed in a silk negligee? Or did he expect me to be tucked under the duvet in my girly pyjamas? And what if I undressed and went to bed and then Ryan came running to tell me that Lauren was after us and we needed to leave right now? I sighed. There was no way I was getting into bed until Ryan was back and I knew what was going on.

  Silence. There was no television in the room to distract me. Not even a coffee-maker to hiss and bubble and make friendly noises. The double glazing kept out the sound of the sea, although it was just metres away. No one was walking along the thickly carpeted hallway outside my door. There was nothing but the rush of blood through my ears and the unnerving quiet.

  I kept reminding myself this woman was a cleaner, and cleaners clean. And kill. Methodically. Efficiently. Probably quietly too. I swung around and looked at the door. Nothing. Just the sound of silence freaking me out.

  I searched for something I could use as a weapon. Just in case. There were few furnishings in the room. I considered the wastepaper bin by the dresser, but when I picked it up it turned out to be made of thin metal. If I bashed someone over the head with it, all it would do was leave a dent in the bin. There was a New Testament in the bedside table, but it was a flimsy paperback.

  I was about to give up when I noticed a set of fire irons in an alcove next to the boxed-in fireplace. It had a brush, shovel and poker. I lifted each one in turn. The poker was easily the heaviest of the three tools. Long and made from a heavy, black metal, it could probably do some serious damage if I hit someone on the head. I clutched it in my hands and stood by the door.

  Right on cue there was a friendly rap-tap-a-tap-tap.

  ‘Who is it?’ I called.

  ‘It’s me,’ said Ryan.

  Feeling slightly stupid, I unlocked the door.

  ‘Good thinking,’ he said, eyeing the poker as he slipped inside. He locked the door behind him.

  ‘So?’

  He strode across the room and pulled the curtains open. Through the window, the daylight on the patio was nearly gone; the picnic table, the wall and the palm tree were blending into the shadows. He pulled the curtains shut again.

  ‘You want the good news or the bad news?’

  I felt a shiver scuttle up my back, like a spider. ‘The bad news.’

  ‘She’s staying in this guest house.’

  ‘You have got to be kidding me!’

  Ryan sat on the edge of the bed. I stayed standing.

  ‘The good news is that I’m certain the time-ship theory is correct.’

  ‘Why do you think that? Did something happen?’

  He ran his hands through his hair. ‘After she left the harbour she walked up the street and went into the Co-op. I followed her in and bought a newspaper. She bought a lighter and some liquid paraffin. She’ll use the paraffin to try and make it look like some kids set fire to something. It’s a cover. She’ll use the leftover gas in the fuel tank to destroy the ship. From there she came directly back to the guest house. I stayed several metres behind her, but when I walked in the front door she was deep in conversation with the receptionist. She was asking for a map of the most isolated islands. It all adds up.’

  ‘Did she see you?’

  ‘No.’

  I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath until I slowly released the air that had been trapped in my lungs. I sat beside him on the bed.

  ‘I don’t think we have anything to worry about,’ he said.

  ‘So, it’s a coincidence.’

  He put a hand on my leg. ‘Yeah. But I don’t like coincidences. I think we should leave the islands tomorrow.’

  ‘The boat sails at four.’

  ‘We’ll keep a low profile until then.’

  We stayed where we were for a minute or two, listening to the absolute quiet. It felt as though the room itself were trembling. My heartbeat. The booming silence. Knowing that an assassin shared our home for the night.

  I turned and placed one palm over Ryan’s heart. It beat a frantic rhythm against my skin.

  ‘You’re scared,’ I said.

  He placed his hand on top of mine. ‘This has nothing to do with Lauren.’

  He stood up, opened his overnight bag and took out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He opened the door to the bath­­­room and leant against the door frame. ‘The door is locked and I’m going to leave this poker by the bed. Are you OK?’

  I nodded.

  My pyjamas were still stuffed in my overnight case. While Ryan brushed his teeth, I unfolded them and then refolded them and then unfolded them again. There was no way I could strip off here in the bedroom with all the lights on and Ryan just the other side of the bathroom door, almost finished brushing his teeth.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, as he came back in.

  He smiled and glanced at the pyjamas in my hand. ‘You gonna put those on?’

  I nodded and rubbed the frayed strip of lace at the bottom of the vest top. ‘They’re kind of old.’

  ‘They’re cute.’

  I stepped closer to the bathroom door. ‘I’m just going to go in here and get undressed.’

  Ryan shrugged one shoulder. ‘OK.’

  I took my pyjamas into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Hurriedly, I stripped off my clothes and pulled on my pyjamas. The sliver of light under the bathroom door dimmed. Ryan was just behind that door. Waiting for me.

  I took a deep breath, unlocked the door and pushed it open. The room was shadowy, the only light coming from the soft glow of the bedside lamp on one of the night tables. My gaze rested first on the bed. It was empty. Then I saw Ryan, standing by the patio doors, watching the last flush of the sunset redden the horizon. To my relief he was still dressed.

  I joined him at the window, my blood pounding through every inch of my body.

  ‘They look even cuter on you,’ said Ryan, running a finger across the strap of my vest top.

  I tried to smile, but my face was too tense to do it convincingly.

  ‘OK,’ he sighed. ‘I guess we need to talk about the sleeping arrangements.’

  I bit my bottom lip. ‘What about them?’

  ‘Which of us gets the bed and which of us gets to sleep here?’ He pointed at the armchair by the fireplace.

  ‘It’s a big bed. I’m sure we’ll both fit.’

  ‘You don’t mind sharing?’

  I shook my head and clambered under th
e covers. Ryan took off his boots and jeans, but kept the rest of his clothes on.

  ‘Aren’t you going to get undressed?’

  ‘I don’t have anything to change into. And I thought I might freak you out if I stripped naked.’

  I laughed. ‘You got that right.’ I leant across and switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

  ‘Goodnight then,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?’

  He closed the wide space between us and found my face with his fingertips. I felt his warm, minty breath on my face and then he kissed me. My body was flooded with warmth and I kissed him back, all my inhibitions forgotten. For a few seconds, I was lost in the pleasure of the moment. And then, unwelcome and unbidden, an image of Lauren smoothing back her bun in Miranda’s sitting room floated into my mind. I forced it out and tried to focus on the feel of Ryan’s skin, but my mind was bombarded with images and sensations. Lauren standing at the docks, her shiny brown hair swinging down her back. The dip and roll of the boat that had brought us to the islands. The moon glowing in the twilight. My once final resting place in the woodland.

  Ryan stopped kissing me. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m just a little tense. It’s really hard for me to relax knowing that she’s so close.’

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ he said. ‘She’s probably tucked up fast asleep in her bed. You want a back rub?’

  I rolled away from him and he ran his fingers down the length of my back, making all the nerve endings tingle. He began kneading the muscles either side of my spine, starting in the small of my back and slowly working up towards my shoulders. My eyelids fluttered closed. Within minutes, I was lulled into sleepy forgetfulness. Just as I was tumbling over the dark abyss, about to leave the world behind, I felt Ryan roll away from me. The covers slipped over my body as he reached towards the door. I rolled over to face him just as he lay back down again.

  In his right hand, he was gripping the poker.

  Chapter 4

  As soon as I set foot back on the mainland, I began to breathe more easily. Lauren’s presence – however random – had transformed the islands from a subtropical paradise into a trap. The feeling of relief was short-lived.

  ‘She knows where I live,’ I said, as Ryan unlocked the car.

  ‘You’re not going home.’

  The Scillonion hadn’t sailed until late in the afternoon; it was now early evening. We would need to eat soon and find somewhere to sleep.

  ‘So . . . are we going to the farmhouse?’ I asked.

  ‘Just to pick up some cash. We have to stay away from anywhere she could trace us to. We’re not taking any chances.’ He reversed out of the parking space and pulled on to the main road.

  ‘Where will we stay?’

  ‘Another B&B. Just till we’re sure she’s gone.’

  The further we were from the dock, the better I felt. I leant back against the headrest and shut my eyes. I was tired. Maybe tonight I would sleep better.

  ‘You OK?’ Ryan asked.

  I looked at him. His T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the sun lighting the top of his head with golden streaks, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in the beginning of a smile. How had I got so lucky?

  ‘You know, when you were back in the future,’ I began, not sure how to phrase this question without sounding insecure or jealous, ‘I mean, you were there a long time.’

  ‘Nine months.’

  ‘Did you ever feel like giving up on coming back to 2012?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Did you ever wonder, though, if it might not be pos­sible? If you might just have to let it go?’

  He glanced at me. ‘The thought never crossed my mind. I knew I’d find a way. Nine months felt like for ever, but I’d have kept on trying if it had been nine years or fifty-nine years. I wasn’t going to let you die like that.’

  ‘But when you were there, you must have had a life as well. You must have gone to school and had a social life and things like that.’

  ‘School wasn’t so great. I got kicked out.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Long story. I was on this elite program for pilots. It was intense. I was too distracted.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘I got a job in the shipyards with my friend, Pegasus.’

  ‘What about your spare time? You must have gone out with friends.’

  ‘I went out to a bar sometimes, but I spent most of my spare time trying to find a way back here. To you.’

  He pulled off the main road and into the supermarket car park.

  ‘So you didn’t have a girlfriend then?’

  He yanked the handbrake up and looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘I was just wondering,’ I said, unlocking my seatbelt.

  He pulled the key out of the ignition and twirled the key ring round his finger. ‘There hasn’t been anyone else since I met you.’

  ‘And before you met me?’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, yeah. There was this one girl before I met you.’

  I wanted to ask him for details. Name, age, pictures. But I couldn’t bring myself to. Not here in the bright light of a supermarket car park, while shopping trolleys rattled and clanged outside the car.

  ‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ The shadow of a smile flitted across his face. ‘You’ve no reason to be. She hasn’t even been born yet.’

  ‘I’m not jealous,’ I said.

  He opened the driver’s side door. ‘Come on.’

  We walked across the car park in silence for a moment.

  ‘So, this girl. Did you . . . you know . . .’ The words stuck in my throat. I coughed.

  ‘Are you asking me if I . . . ?’ He smirked, but there was a noticeable flush across his cheek.

  I nodded.

  He stared at the ground as we walked. ‘Yeah,’ he said.

  ‘And you didn’t hook up with her again when you got back to your own time?’

  We were at the trolley park by now, Ryan pulling a trolley out of its stubborn embrace with the one in front of it.

  ‘Of course not. The only person I had any interest in hooking up with had been dead for over a century.’

  He blushed even more deeply when he noticed the middle-aged woman, who’d clearly heard every word, waiting patiently behind us.

  ‘That must have sounded weird,’ he whispered as we pushed the trolley towards the store.

  ‘Not to mention creepy.’

  He paused just before the entrance. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’

  I felt hot. I could feel my face burning. ‘Why are we here?’

  ‘Is that an existential question?’

  ‘A practical one.’

  ‘To buy food. If we’re going to lie low until Lauren leaves, we’re going to need supplies.’

  We took a trolley and made our way up and down the aisles, grabbing food off the shelves and dodging the slow, got-all-the-time-in-the-world tourists.

  ‘If I was going on holiday, I would never go self-catering,’ said Ryan. ‘How is it a holiday if you have to go supermarket shopping and cook your own meals?’

  ‘Not everyone has a limitless supply of money, Ryan,’ I said, smacking him lightly across the head with a baguette. ‘Something you’d better get used to if you’re going to be living on the wages of a flower picker.’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ he said. ‘That’s going to be so dull. I’m going to need to sort out some fake ID and some qualifications as soon as I can.’

  ‘And how do you think you’re going to find somewhere to buy fake documents? The internet?’

  ‘’Course not. I’ve already found my source. This guy near Truro. I just need to go and make the arrangements.’

  ‘Won’t that be expensive?’ I said, hesitating over a packet of chocolate Hobnobs. How much money did not much money mean? Was Ryan down
to his last fifty quid, or down to his last fifty thousand? ‘Should we get biscuits?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, putting them in the trolley. ‘I have more money back in the farmhouse.’

  We pushed the trolley to the checkout. ‘When are you planning to do this?’

  ‘Soon,’ he whispered. ‘I need ID that can last a lifetime so it has to be good.’

  My phone rang. My friend, Amy. I hadn’t spoken to her in days.

  ‘Hi, Amy,’ I said.

  Ryan began stacking the groceries on the conveyor belt.

  ‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’ she asked me.

  ‘Just hanging out at home.’

  ‘Sounds boring. Anyway, everyone’s going to the beach tomorrow. Can you come?’

  Obviously I couldn’t. But the thought of doing something normal like hanging out at the beach with all my friends sounded so appealing.

  ‘Not sure. I’ll let you know,’ I said.

  ‘Call me back, OK?’

  I hung up and helped Ryan bag the groceries.

  ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

  ‘Amy. Inviting me to the beach tomorrow.’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘I know.’

  He put the bags into the shopping trolley. ‘We just need a couple of days. Until we’re sure she’s gone.’

  ‘How will we know she’s gone?’

  ‘She’s a cleaner. She’ll want to finish the job and get home. If she’s interested in me, I’ll know about it soon. If there’s no sign of her for a couple of days, we can assume she’s left.’

  We loaded the groceries into the boot and then Ryan suggested I practise my driving. I agreed. I needed all the skills I could get.

  ‘And if we get pulled over?’ I asked.

  ‘Drive well and we won’t get pulled over.’

  By the time we reached the turn-off for Penpol Cove, I was beginning to feel confident behind the wheel, dipping and releasing the clutch smoothly, remembering mirror, signal, manoeuvre. All I had to do now was drive down the narrow lane to the farmhouse, without meeting a tractor coming in the other direction. Reversing was not my forte.

  I smelt it first. A bonfire. Wood and paper and dry grass. But there was a nasty undertone to it, like the smell of burning plastic.

  ‘The villagers won’t be happy,’ I said, hitting the button to close the window. ‘It’s an unwritten rule that you don’t light bonfires during the daytime in summer. It makes the washing smell like smoke.’