The Next Together Page 3

  “Well observed,” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow at her.

  “No, I meant, what brought you to Carlisle?”

  “I came to work,” he said, as they stopped by a well. “My family live on the Scottish border, about ten miles north of here. They own a farm in the hills. In the morning you can’t see anything but mist for miles around.”

  “It sounds magical. Why would you ever leave?” Katherine tried to picture the mountains of Scotland. An image of Matthew running around chasing cattle entered her mind.

  “I wish I’d been able to stay,” he said. “All I ever wanted was to be a farmer, like my father. But there were – there are – struggles for money. I send as much of my wages home as I can.”

  “Do you miss them?” Katherine leant over the wall of the well to peer down it. The black water below reflected the starlight, and she took a deep breath of the clean smell. She missed her grandmother.

  “Yes. But I know that because of me they have enough money to survive now.”

  “I hope you will be able to pay them a visit soon.”

  “As do I. Maybe I should join the Rebels – that would give me a chance to travel!” He smiled.

  Katherine was silent for a moment, unsure what the Rebels were, but not wanting to sound ignorant. Matthew’s smile faltered as he waited for her laughter, so she asked, “The … the Rebels?”

  He stared at her for a moment. “You haven’t heard about the Jacobites?”

  “No,” she said. The word Jacobites did sound familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Who are they?”

  “Charles Stuart is making a claim for the throne again. You know about the uprising during his father’s time?”

  Sudden clarity struck Katherine, bringing her brief history lessons to the forefront of her mind (she’d always preferred the natural sciences to history). A revolution at the end of the last century had ousted King James II. His son, James Stuart, had made a claim to the throne of England and Scotland some years ago. He had managed to become recognized as the true monarch by several countries and had attempted an unsuccessful invasion of England in 1715. But that was thirty years ago, and there hadn’t been a real threat since then. Was James Stuart’s son now going to try to claim the throne of England?

  “Of course I know about the uprising. It didn’t succeed. Why would his son repeat something destined to failure?” Katherine asked.

  “Charles Stuart – or Bonnie Prince Charlie, as they call him – has sought out the Highland tribes. He thinks that with their support he’ll be able to win.”

  Katherine stopped walking, the shawl sliding down to her waist. “The Scots? Will they help him, do you think?”

  “They already are. He landed in Scotland several weeks ago.”

  Katherine shivered and absently pulled the shawl back around her shoulders. “He is raising an army? In Scotland? Why is no one talking about this?”

  She tried to picture the Highlanders forming an army. In all her imaginings about the Scots, she had never thought of such a terrifying – but exciting – possibility. A part of her wanted the uprising to happen – the prospect was so thrilling. It was such a world away from tedious parties full of long conversations about beaus and silks.

  Matthew shrugged. “There isn’t much of a threat. Most people are aware of the situation, but as you said it has almost no hope of success. The biggest piece of news – Charlie’s landing in Scotland – happened when your grandm—” His eyes flicked to hers. He knew that she found it hard to think about her grandmother’s death. “I mean, before your arrival. You missed it. The latest news is that the Rebels are going to bypass Edinburgh and march straight on to England.”

  “England!” Katherine said in horror. “They may attack Carlisle.”

  He looked at her gravely. “Yes. But we’ve got some defences and a garrison. Well, you can hardly call it a garrison. No conflict was ever expected, so our defence consists entirely of a few old men with gout who have been here since the last uprising.”

  “You think that will be enough?”

  “Perhaps not,” Matthew admitted. “It is likely that the Rebels will be stopped before they get to England and Carlisle, but if they reach us, then we will have to prepare our defences. In Edinburgh they are setting up cannons.”

  “How terrible.” Katherine tried to imagine the occupants of Carlisle having to decide whether to fight or surrender to the Rebels. She shivered again. How could this be happening? If the Rebels reached Carlisle, the citizens could be in real danger. Suddenly the uprising didn’t seem so thrilling any more.

  > Warning: Danger in time-landscape 1745 imminent

  > Intervention recommended

  >> Intervention denied

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-172

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-173

  UNIVERSITY OF NOTTINGHAM CAMPUS, ENGLAND, 2039

  Kate stared at the newspaper articles, which had appeared in the search results for “Matthew Galloway”. Matthew and Katherine Galloway – the ones who had worked at CSL – had been terrorists. They had tried to steal from their lab. They had attacked security guards. She was amazed.

  Who were these people? Could she possibly be related to this Katherine Galloway? She’d never heard of her. If there had been a terrorist in her family, who looked just like her, surely she would have been aware of it?

  She went back to the search results, scrolling through other news articles for answers. After war began in 2019, the investigation seemed to have been completely abandoned in favour of reporting on the stand-off between England and Europe. World War III had been short, lasting only three years before both sides began threatening the use of nuclear weapons. This had led to a reluctant and uneasy peace, which had lasted ever since.

  The next link Kate found was for Katherine Galloway’s blog. Kate then flicked back to the news article. Someone who spent their free time analysing TV programmes and going on dates with her husband couldn’t spend the rest of her time making a biological weapon. Could she?

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-170

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  Katherine woke up after another bad night’s sleep. Everyone in Carlisle had been seized by terror as the Rebels marched closer and closer to England, and rumours of the monstrous Highlanders changed daily. They were described varyingly as murderous giants who ate babies, or weak farmers who wouldn’t be a threat to a country cottage. Her aunt and uncle talked constantly of their fear that the Rebels would take over the city and kill their son. Katherine’s dreams had been filled with attacks on the city by giants, and she felt exhausted that morning. She sat up, rubbing her eyes to try to dispel the headache lingering behind her temples.

  Katherine stared at the painting that dominated the wall opposite her bed. It was of her grandmother – a younger, brighter version of the woman she had known – with her husband. Since her arrival, Katherine had often wondered why Elizabeth would have a picture in her home of the mother whom she had not spoken to for so many years. Katherine had always felt too embarrassed to ask. Her aunt had kindly taken her in after her grandmother’s death and she hadn’t wanted to cause a fuss.

  She got out of bed, suddenly awake and invigorated with curiosity. What had happened in her family? What secret was being kept from her?

  She would need to go back to her grandmother’s house soon, to start organizing her possessions now that the house was to be sold. She had been avoiding it for weeks. She wasn’t ready to face ripping apart her home and throwing away all her grandmother’s things. It would make it all too real. Although perhaps she might find the answers to the rift between her aunt and grandmother there.

  After dressing, Katherine leant out of her window, watching the hens meander around the herb garden. She wished her life was that simple. She couldn’t even bear the thought of going down to breakfast, where she would have to endure her aunt and uncle’s endless discussions about the Jacobites.

  She spotted Matthew lea
ding a horse back to the stables, and quickly slipped outside to follow him, eager for a distraction.

  He was talking to a maid when she reached the stables. The servants’ heads were close together, their conversation serious and intense, while the horse idly plucked at a patch of cow parsley.

  Something turned over in the pit of Katherine’s stomach, but she shook the feeling away, annoyed with herself. Matthew could talk to whomever he wanted.

  A cherry tree cast a dappled shadow over them, and the sunbeams shone brightly off the girl’s dark hair. Katherine thought it was horrible. She crept closer to hear what they were saying.

  “There is still a long way to go until victory,” Matthew said.

  “Yes, but the attack is the first step,” murmured the maid. “After that everything that happens is important.”

  Katherine edged a little closer, being careful to keep out of sight. What were they talking about?

  “What do we do?” Matthew asked the maid.

  “Nothing, yet. You only need to act when the siege happens. That’s when you can change things.”

  “So we wait?”

  “Yes,” the girl said, suddenly walking around the building, towards where Katherine was hiding. Matthew followed. Katherine tried to back away, but she had nowhere to go. They caught sight of her and stopped in their tracks.

  “Sorry,” she said apologetically. “Did I interrupt?”

  Matthew exchanged looks with the servant girl. She curtsied, clearly embarrassed, and then walked towards the house.

  “No. It’s quite all right,” Matthew replied. “That was my cousin.”

  “Oh,” Katherine said, casting a fresh eye over the maid. She recognized her, now that she looked more closely. Katherine tried to remember her name, but she hadn’t really paid the girl much attention before now.

  Katherine swallowed, trying to act normally. “I can see the resemblance.” Matthew and the maid had a similar bone structure, all sharp edges and angles. Anise – that was her name.

  “You do? Where?” Matthew asked.

  “The delicate eyelashes,” she said, trying to sound teasing.

  Matthew mock-sighed at her, so she added cheekily, “She carries them better, though. She’s more elegant, somehow. And there’s something about her posture that is just more dignified.”

  “Excuse me, Ma’am, but I have better things to do with my time than be insulted,” Matthew said stiffly, but his eyes twinkled. He bowed before turning to walk the horse into the stable.

  “Don’t stumble!” Katherine called after him, and his formal posture broke as he laughed. She caught up with him just inside the door. The stable was cold, and musty with hay dust. A pigeon perched in the rafters, cooing softly. It was so much more welcoming than the house, where Katherine was always a little scared she would mess up the brightly polished furniture.

  “So, did you hear about Edinburgh?” Matthew commented, rubbing the nose of the mare absently.

  “No. What has happened?” It was hard to concentrate on what Matthew was saying. The conversation between him and Anise was going round and round in her mind. What had they meant?

  He grinned. “The city of Edinburgh surrendered, and the Rebels have taken it. The mayor gave Prince Charlie fifteen thousand pounds!”

  Katherine drew in a gasp. “Good heavens!” That meant the Rebels were barely a hundred miles from Carlisle.

  “Before they reached Edinburgh, they passed through Dunblane,” Matthew continued. “I heard a story about one of the Rebels. It is not as interesting as many, but I thought it was good.”

  “So, what did he do?” Katherine was feeling uncomfortable. Matthew was a little too excited that Edinburgh had surrendered. Anise’s words came back to her: You only need to act when the siege happens. That’s when you can change things.

  “The Rebel read a Bible passage as they rode through the town.”

  “A Bible passage? Which one?”

  Matthew cleared his throat. Then he closed his eyes, preparing himself as if he was about to perform a Shakespearean monologue. Despite her concerns about his loyalties, she couldn’t help but beam in delight at his pose. Without opening his eyes, he said, “Stop smirking.”

  Katherine controlled her expression. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  He shushed her, and after a moment he began speaking, voice strained to sound intentionally mysterious: “Remove the diadem, and take off the crown… I will overturn, overturn, overturn it: and it shall be no more, until he come whose right it is; and I will give it him.”

  The quote sent a shiver down her spine. Matthew looked at her wide-eyed expression with satisfaction.

  “That’s … scarily apt,” she said after too long a pause.

  “It does make you wonder, though, doesn’t it?” Matthew said. “Perhaps Charlie should get the crown.”

  Katherine watched him carefully. “You support the Rebels?”

  Is that what Anise had meant by “you can change things”? Were Matthew and his cousin plotting to help the Jacobites with their invasion?

  For a moment he looked almost panicked. His shoulders had set into the same nervous posture that he’d had when she’d discovered him talking to his cousin, but quickly his expression settled. He shrugged then, gaze fixed on the far distance. “I don’t really know enough to have an opinion.”

  Katherine tried to keep her expression blank, but she was concerned. Was he lying? He always seemed to know more about the Rebels than anyone else, even if they claimed to have the latest news. He certainly knew enough to form an opinion about something so important.

  “I am rather naive about politics too,” she said eventually, trying not to show her suspicions.

  She ignored the way he watched her as she returned to the house.

  > Delay predicted in time-landscape 1745 due to mistrust

  CHAPTER 4

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-115

  Near Portugal, Atlantic Ocean, 1854

  Matthew handed Katy his pen and a notebook. She stared at him questioningly. They were on deck, and after two days of travelling, she was starting to get her sea legs.

  “I thought we could start taking notes,” Matthew explained. “I could teach you a bit of shorthand to speed the process up.”

  She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not going to get to relax until we arrive at the front?” After dipping the nib into the ink, she waited for him to begin talking.

  “After several days, the journey progresses smoothly, with good weather and few delays.” He paused for a moment to think.

  Katy found herself distracted by the lines of his shoulders and the surprisingly well-defined muscles that were visible under his shirt. She let her eyes drift over the hair falling across his forehead. His spectacles were just about clinging to the brink of his nose. One sharp movement and they’d fall off. He pushed them up absently, and she shook herself. What was she doing? She was here to spy on him, not admire him.

  There was something familiar about Matthew. She wasn’t sure what it was, or if it was anything more than her own urge to spend more time with him, but he seemed like an old friend. His mannerisms were recognizable, comforting. The feeling was both strange and welcome at the same time.

  She shook herself and tightened her grip on the pen, trying to ignore the tone of his voice, lilting and low in her ear, and concentrate instead on his words.

  “Good,” he said, when she’d written almost a page of notes for him. “You’ll have to practise shorthand before we get to the front. We don’t want to miss out on any important information because you struggle to keep up.”

  Her smile faded. For a moment she had felt contentment, but the reminder of their purpose made her remember herself. She couldn’t be friendly with Matthew. She was here to manipulate him. She swallowed.

  “You should write a letter to your aunt and uncle,” Matthew said suddenly. “I’m sure they’ll want to know you are safe. We can post it when we land.”

  She s
tared at him, confused. “My aunt and uncle? I don’t have an aunt and uncle. I grew up in an orphanage.”

  He frowned. “Oh. I don’t know why I thought that. My apologies.”

  There was a pause. Katy didn’t know what she’d said that had led him to believe she lived with her aunt and uncle. Oddly, the mistake didn’t feel completely wrong. She brushed the thought away – she’d never had an aunt and uncle. Had she?

  Matthew stood up then, clearing his throat. “I think we should go inside. You’ve caught the sun.”

  Katy felt her face in surprise. The weather had been windy all day, but her arms and face were reddening, so he was probably right about going indoors.

  Folios/v3/Time-landscape-1854/MS-1

  File note: A 19th century admissions book for Freeman’s Orphanage

  NOTTINGHAM, ENGLAND, 2039

  The next morning, Kate was dressed by six. She hadn’t slept at all. She had just lain in her tiny, uncomfortable uni bed, listening to her neighbours party noisily, with everything she’d discovered about Matthew and Katherine Galloway running through her head. She’d been invited to the party, but had felt too confused by everything she’d read online to go.

  She grabbed a cup of coffee and a slice of cold toast from the dining hall, waving to her friends when they called at her to sit with them. Instead she ate as she walked to catch the bus to her grandparents’ house. She was going to get answers. One of them must know something about this Katherine Galloway.

  “ID?” asked the soldier by the door of the bus, and she scanned her thumbprint on the machine. It flashed green, confirming she was an English citizen.

  “Where are you headed?” he asked. “Do you have a permit to travel off-campus?”

  “I’m going to visit my grandparents. They live in Beeston.”

  She showed him her permit, which he read carefully and then scanned into the machine. “Don’t travel into the city centre today, Miss Finchley,” he warned. “There’s another protest in Market Square about the rationing. They’re arresting demonstrators.”