Time After Time by Louise Pentland

Time After Time by Louise Pentland

Author:Louise Pentland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction


Chapter Fifteen

‘M

UM, YOUR ROASTS MAKE me the MOST happy,’ I say so enthusiastically I nearly surprise myself.

Even though it’s Saturday, mum’s done a full roast and we’re back round the table with the linen cloth and the old heated hostess trolley, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve just come from brunch at Dad’s flat. Dad even tried avocado, I nearly fell off my chair. It was touching to see Bernie fuss about Dad’s cholesterol, and how their hands lingered as they passed the orange juice between them. I stuck to toast and fruit and now I’m almost drooling for Mum’s roast.

The weather is warm but the important thing is that Mum is once again cooking her routine comfort food. We might have been through a lot of change lately, but my mum is never going to be a barbecue gal. And I’m OK with that. There is nothing I love more than Mum’s home cooking.

‘Ahhh, thank you, Tabitha, it’s good to be doing this again, isn’t it?’ she says, opening the trolley to reveal a freshly baked apple crumble.

‘Yep. Ooohhh, my faaavourite.’ I smile.

‘This was my sister’s favourite too,’ Mum says with more tenderness in her voice than I’ve heard in a while.

‘Oh, Mum. I didn’t know that. It’s nice that you’re talking about her.’ This is new, and lovely. I feel a little squeeze in my heart at the idea of hearing more about Auntie Bridget.

Mum had always told me that her sister died in a car accident many years ago, but has never wanted to expand on that. As a kid I saw some photos in an album, but mum’s tucked that away. We never spoke much about her because every time she tried, Mum would end up in tears; obviously it was all too painful and I didn’t like to push.

‘Yes. Times are changing,’ she says with a sigh.

‘You can say that again,’ I say, thinking about my own escapades with time. I take a moment to appreciate how utterly ridiculous it is that I’m sitting at Mum’s table having my standard Sunday roast and casually considering the fact that I can literally travel through time. What the eff is that about? I’m scared to experiment further with the ring, but how long am I going to live like this for? Keeping a scientific impossibility that I found in a piece of jewellery a secret? My head whirs with the madness of it, and I realise I’m staring into space.

‘. . . and he liked her too,’ Mum adds casually. Shit. Hard to pay attention when you’re contemplating the logistics of telling the world you have DISCOVERED TIME TRAVEL. Ironically, no time for that now: Mum’s opening up and this isn’t to be missed.

‘Sorry? Who?’ I say, trying to be a bit more on it.

‘Michael Parker. My friend – well, ex-fiancé, you remember – I’ve reconnected with him on Facebook. He knew her. We met up last week, and he spoke so fondly of her. Brought it all back up, maybe,’ she says quietly, not looking up from her bowl.



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