The girl looked all over the palace but nowhere could she find a single clock. It was as though time didn’t exist within its walls.
Eventually, while she was wandering the corridors, she noticed a tapestry hanging on the wall that showed a robin with a key in its mouth. The girl pulled back the tapestry and behind it was a small wooden door. She pushed it open and found she was at the bottom of a steep spiral staircase. She climbed the stairs and came out at the top into a tiny room. Standing in the middle of the room was a golden clock whose hands had stopped at ten past three who knows how long ago.
The girl saw there was a small keyhole at the bottom of the clock’s face, near the number six. She took the little key, fitted it into the hole and found it was a perfect match. She turned the key three times. As soon as the clock began to tick again it was as if a spell was broken.
The girl knew she must leave.
She hurried downstairs to find the king and queen to thank them for letting her stay. But when she reached the banqueting hall she found there was no feast, no music, no dancing. The palace was empty… and had been for centuries. The great banqueting table was covered in dust, there were holes in the roof, the windows were broken. She saw a portrait on the wall she hadn’t noticed before. When she brushed the cobwebs aside and peered at it closely she saw it was the king and queen, only much older, and she realized they must have died many years before.
The girl cried because she had loved them and they had been so kind to her. Then she saw something shining on the table in the place where the queen had sat. It was the only thing not covered in dust: a ring set with a green stone, the same one the queen was wearing in the portrait. The girl was as certain as she’d ever been that it had been left for her. She slipped it on her finger and knew immediately that the ring would take her where she had to go.
I woke so early it was barely light. Shaun had given me the alarm clock from the spare room. It wasn’t broken after all. It just needed winding. Time was moving on. I didn’t want it to.
I made a coffee and sat outside the hut one last time before waking Billie, cradling the mug in my hands.
I felt Granny’s ring on its chain next to my heart.
It was time to go.
The sun was rising as we made our way through the trees, back the way we’d come that first night. The light cut through the almost bare branches of the trees. I felt empty and scared. My whole body ached. But still, the forest was beautiful, the light and shadow of it, its new morning scent.
When we got to the edge of the forest, we went back along the field we’d walked through to get here but then instead of heading for the road to the station we carried on further, across more fields, until we came to a farm track. My nerves were rising. What if Shaun wasn’t there like we’d arranged?
But after we’d turned down the track, gone over the cattle grid and reached the farm gate, I saw the van waiting.
Shaun got out and glanced quickly both ways.
‘Very punctual,’ he said once he was sure no one else was around, smiling and opening the back of the van so that I couldn’t be seen from the road. ‘Right. I apologize it’s not exactly luxury travel, but safety first and all that.’
There were assorted pieces of furniture and crates in the back of the van covered in tarpaulins and rough old blankets.
‘I know,’ he said apologetically, seeing my face. ‘But I’ve put water in there. And biscuits. You’ll be okay… Keep the door open a bit,’ he added, seeing my panic. ‘Unless we get stopped, obviously.’
‘And if we do? If they search the van properly?’
‘They won’t. I’m the world’s most convincing liar.’
‘True,’ I said.
‘Anyway, I’ve worked out the safest route. We’ll avoid most of the checkpoints. We can even stop at a services once we’re further north.’
He went off to check something in the cab and I helped Billie into a crate.
‘It’ll be fine, B.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m not scared. It’s just Luna. She doesn’t like small spaces.’
‘Me neither,’ I said. ‘But it’s not for too long.’
I stood by the van, putting off getting in. I wanted to run back. I didn’t want to leave.
‘Okay,’ Shaun said. ‘We’d better get going.’
‘Shaun,’ I said, trying not to let my voice crack, ‘you will tell Jonas, won’t you… I mean, just make sure he knows I…’
I looked around one last time, breathed it in, the sweet morning air, the dazzle of the morning sky, the dark line of trees at the edge of the forest—
‘Bloody hell!’ said Shaun. ‘Who the fuck’s that?’
I spun round in alarm, ready to run or hide—
Then I realized he was smiling.
‘Whatever that message was you were trying to give me for Jonas, you can tell him yourself.’ He pointed down the track, laughing.
At Jonas.
Jonas, bright red in the face, on a pink child’s bike with a basket on the front covered in plastic flowers, riding as fast as he could, his knees up practically to his ears.
‘Jonas!’ I ran towards him.
‘Nice wheels, mate,’ Shaun said.
Jonas climbed off the bike and let it fall to the ground, then bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
‘My sister’s old bike,’ he said, panting. ‘It was the only way I could get here. Shaun got a message to me but I didn’t think I’d make it. My mum’s got me under lock and key. I had to climb out of my bedroom window. This was the only available transport.’
I hugged him.
‘I want to come with you,’ he said. ‘You know I would…’
He stopped, unable to speak. I put my hand up to his face.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I know you would.’
‘I know my mum too well. She’s not joking when she says she’d make sure you paid for it.’
‘Not just me,’ I said. ‘Grandpa and Shaun too.’
‘I’ll look out for them,’ he said. ‘I’ll do everything I can for them. And when this is all over we’ll see each other again. I know we will.’
He kissed me, there in the middle of the farm track, the sharp wind carrying the smell of the cow dung all around us, and I wondered how it was possible to feel so happy and so sad and so guilty and so scared all at the same time. And then I stopped wondering because all I could think about was Jonas.
About bloody time, Mischa said.
Eventually Shaun said awkwardly, ‘Sorry to interrupt, you two, but we really need to go.’
I held on to Jonas. I didn’t want to let him go.
‘You’re shivering.’ Jonas took off his scarf and put it round my neck, the warmth of him against my skin.
I wished I’d listened to Mischa and we’d got to this bit sooner. All those weeks we’d had together and I hadn’t told him how I felt, hadn’t even admitted it to myself. And now, whatever he said, neither of us actually knew whether we’d see each other again.
But maybe, a voice in my head said, that’s because you deserve to be on your own.
We only got stopped at one checkpoint, near Birmingham.
We curled ourselves up in our crate, the blanket pulled over us, barely breathing in the dark, listening to muffled voices.
‘It’s okay, B,’ I whispered. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘How do you know?’ she said.
My fingernails dug into my palms.
‘I just do,’ and I knew she was giving me a scathing look in the dark.
Please don’t let them check the back of the van. Please don’t let me have a coughing fit. Please, please let it all be okay.
I strained to hear what Shaun was saying. They were checking his papers and it was taking for ever. Shaun being Shaun was trying to engage them in conversation but it sounded like they weren’t having any of it.
Then a voice said, ‘Hang on, don’t I know you?’
There was a pause.
‘I don’t think so,’ Shaun said at last.
‘Didn’t you used to be a boxer?’
I breathed out.
‘I did, as it goes,’ Shaun said, and I could tell from his voice it was going to be okay.
It turned out, Shaun was slightly famous. I mean, not really, but for a while he had been a name in the boxing world. So he got them talking about that and they waved us through. He even gave them an autograph.
‘Bloody hell,’ he called back once we were safe. ‘Did you hear that? You’re being chauffeur-driven by an A-list celeb.’
He thought it was hilarious.
I thought it was hilarious.
It was strange to find I could still laugh, even then.
I wish Shaun was here now.
And Jonas.
I put Jonas’s scarf around my neck, lean my face into it, as if I can breathe him in.
I will see them again. I will.
‘Sorry,’ Shaun called back. ‘I’ve gone wrong somewhere. Bloody satnav. Just need to check the map. Might as well stretch your legs anyway while we’re here.’
I clambered out of the stale dark of the van, blinking into the late-afternoon light. Billie had fallen asleep and was curled up under a blanket. The air was colder than I expected, fresh and sweet. We were parked in a layby. Away off in front of us were mountains, dark against the pink glow of the sky where the sun was setting, the higher peaks pale with snow.
‘Wow.’
‘Not a bad view, eh?’
Shaun poured a cup of steaming tea from a flask and handed it to me. We both stood silent for a while, cupping our hands round the warmth of our tin cups. I took a sip of the tea, dark and sweet and comforting. I was grateful for it. My throat was sore and my head was aching.
Shaun went off to ‘answer a call of nature’ and try and get a phone signal and I stood looking at the mountains and thinking about how Grandpa had told me once that even the very top of the tallest peak was once under the sea. There was a sound close by and when I looked round Billie was next to me, rumpled and still half-asleep.
‘Hey, B.’
‘I’m thirsty,’ she said. I got out a bottle of water from the van and handed it to her. As she drank, she began to wake up properly.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Mountains.’
‘I know. Pretty cool, huh?’
‘Look at the kestrel!’ she said. I followed to where she was pointing and saw it: some kind of bird of prey hanging in the air before diving down out of sight to catch some unsuspecting creature hiding in the grass. I shivered.
‘I’m cold,’ Billie said. ‘I’m getting back in the van.’
Shaun came back. ‘Not far now,’ he said.
I just stood and looked out at the mountains.
‘I wish…’
I stopped.
What I wished was that Grandpa was here to see this. The mountains were so big, so old. I felt tiny, like a little kid. I wanted Grandpa to tell me stories about the giants who lived in the mountains and the sacred stones that used to be people and were cursed by witches or gods. I just wanted him to be here. I wanted him to be how he used to be. I wanted to be a little kid again. I couldn’t say any of it.
And I wished that Dad could be here too, and Claudia. I imagined us here on holiday, me and Billie moaning about being made to go on long walks, Dad ordering pints and pies in pubs where the walls all leaned at gravity-defying angles, Claudia finding towns with second-hand bookshops and cheesemongers, just happy that we were all together.
I felt so far away from Dad now. We were in different worlds. What would he say to me about all of this, my plan to go to Scotland, to go to Mum? I hadn’t let myself think about it properly till now, probably because I worried he would say it was a stupid idea. Every mile we’d driven had taken me further away from him.
I wished it hurt less as time passed.
‘I know,’ Shaun said and he put his arm round me and I knew he did know.
After about another half-hour we stopped again. This time when the doors of the van opened and we climbed out I saw we were outside a big white pebble-dashed house. There were no other houses anywhere, just farm buildings, a stone barn, some wooden sheds.
‘You wait here.’ Shaun went up to the front door, which was so big and heavy it looked as though it had been built to keep out mountain trolls. Billie ran off to chat to the sheep who were nibbling at the grass nearby.
A man, maybe in his thirties, with dark hair and a beard opened the door, but only far enough to see who it was, ready to get rid of them and close it again as quickly as possible, like you do when it’s somebody trying to sell you something or preach to you about being saved.
Shaun spoke to him, gesturing towards us and the van and the bearded guy looked over, said something and closed the door. Was something wrong? Shaun didn’t turn round, so I couldn’t see the expression on his face. Then the bearded guy opened the door again and there was someone else with him, a black woman with grey hair. They talked some more and then Shaun beckoned me over.
‘This is Clem,’ he said. ‘Clem, meet Cass. She’s going to get you to Scotland. You’ll stay here tonight and then they’ll drive you over the border.’
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
Cass smiled. ‘Come on in. Have something to eat, you must be hungry. And tired.’
‘I’ll bring your bag up, then I’ll head off,’ Shaun said. ‘If I step on it, I might be back by midnight.’
He must have seen a look of panic cross my face. I’d hoped Shaun might stay overnight but I also wanted him to get back to Grandpa.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Don’t look like that. These are good people. They’ll get you over the border. And if there’s any problem when you get there, they’ll help you.’
‘I know,’ I said.
Another goodbye. He wrapped me in a massive bear hug.
‘Take care you,’ he said. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, eh?’
‘Look after Grandpa,’ I said.
‘You know I will,’ he said. ‘Hey, come on. Don’t be upset. We’ll meet again. I know these things.’
I just felt small and scared and bone weary. My head ached and my throat scratched.
But then we were inside and there were people, cigarette smoke, hot tea in chipped mugs. I sat at the kitchen table with an undrunk cup of tea and tried not to look awkward or shy or show that I was so tired that everything around me seemed to be happening at a slight delay. The relief of being there didn’t take away the fact that being around strangers felt weird, unnerving. My fingers made imaginary paper cranes under the table, sent them fluttering invisibly around us. Billie wandered off to the other side of the room to watch cartoons with a younger kid and pet a ginger cat that was stretched rug-like next to a radiator.
The woman called Cass seemed to be in charge.
‘You’ll stay here tonight,’ she said. ‘And then first thing tomorrow we’ll leave. There’ll be four others travelling too. You’ll go in the back of the van. There are packing crates for you to hide in till we get through the checkpoints.’
‘Thanks,’ I said woozily.
‘You look tired,’ she said. ‘You should rest. It’ll be another early start tomorrow.’
She led us up creaking stairs to an attic room and left us. Pushed against the walls of the room, dimly lit by a bare bulb, were stacks of dusty books, tatty framed posters of plays that had taken place decades before, cobwebbed cardboard boxes, a chair with a wickerwork seat, gaping and split. In a square of space between the low sloping roof and the curtain, just big enough to lie down in, were blankets, sleeping bags, a couple of ancient, flattened pillows.
I spread out the blankets as best I could. I ached with cold. In the shadowy space, Billie looked ready to fall asleep on her feet.
‘This’ll be okay for us, won’t it, B? Quite comfy really.’ She lay down to try it out.
‘It smells weird,’ she said. ‘Kind of like…’
But it was probably best not to think about what it kind of smelt like.
‘Do you think there are mice?’ she asked.
I shuddered.
‘I like mice,’ Billie said sleepily.
‘Well, at least we’ve got Luna.’ I put the small, fluffy toy owl next to the pillow. ‘She’ll protect us.’
‘Luna doesn’t eat mice. She’s a vegetarian owl.’
‘Course she is. I’ll just have to kill them with my bare hands then.’
‘Clem!’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t!’
‘You know I wouldn’t. I’d be on top of that massive box, screaming. Except it’s probably full of spiders.’
Billie smiled, eyelids heavy.
‘You’re silly.’
‘That’s me.’
I lay down next to her, my limbs so heavy I thought I’d never get up again.
I rested my head back on the pillow and stared up through the dark to the skylight in the ceiling. No stars.
‘But that’s wrong,’ Billie said. ‘There are stars. You just can’t see them.’
I woke to the sound of knocking on my door.
Had I overslept? Was I late for school?
‘Clem? It’s Cass. Can I come in?’
‘Yes,’ I tried to say, but my throat was so sore and swollen I could hardly speak. Cass’s face swam in front of me. It was still dark and I didn’t seem to be able to focus my eyes.
‘Clem,’ she said. ‘Are you okay? You look sick.’
I felt Billie stir at my side.
‘I’m fine,’ I lied.
‘Change of plan,’ Cass said. I realized through the haze of sleep that she was speaking urgently. ‘We need to leave now.’
‘What?’
I stood up, although my limbs seemed heavier than usual and my head spun.
‘Some of our people got arrested trying to cross last night,’ she said. ‘We think we may be compromised. We need to get out of here.’
‘But where to?’
‘The coast,’ she said. ‘You’ll go by sea. It’s quick.’
But is it safe? I wanted to ask but realized that would be stupid. Nothing was safe.
‘And that was what happened?’ Polly says. ‘You came by boat?’
I nod. I don’t want to remember it.
I close my eyes.