The Accidental Time Traveller by Janis Mackay

Author:Janis Mackay
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780863159732
Publisher: Floris Books
Published: 2013-10-19T21:00:00+00:00

16

“Hiya, Saul.” Agatha was standing outside the launderette next morning, hoping from foot to foot – with excitement or cold, I couldn’t tell. “Are you doing ok?”

“Never been better,” I lied, but I was impressed with her speaking. It sounded like she’d been practising all night.

She skipped over to me. “Oh, I am that awfa much in a spin about school,” she said.

I started walking down the street and she fell into step beside me. “Me too, Randolph,” then after a moment I added, “Umm, don’t say much, ok? And don’t gaze around all the time, pop-eyed, like you just landed on the planet.”

“Sure,” she said, giggling, “I will do as you do.”

I laughed. It came out sounding all nervous. I walked fast and Agatha slithered about in the snow trying to keep up. I wanted us to get to school early, and slip into the building before everybody else. “You’re my cousin, remember?”

“Sure,” she said, again.

“Your name’s Randolph. You’re from London. You haven’t been too well, and you’re in Peebles to get better. And you’ve had tonsillitis and your throat is sore. Got that?”

Agatha nodded and flashed me her brightest smile. She looked really healthy. “And don’t smile so much.”

She frowned. “Pray I never catch the measles. Little Bessie from next door died of the measles. There isna an epidemic in the school, is there, Saul?”

I laughed, though it wasn’t funny. “Nobody dies of measles now,” I said, and we went through the big iron gates into the cemetery. I usually cut through the cemetery to get to school. It’s the fastest way. But now I got the creepiest feeling as we hurried past all these old gravestones. I imagined Bessie in a little white coffin, dead with the measles. “Come on, Randolph,” I said, and ran the rest of the way.

When we reached the playground there was hardly anybody about. So far, so good. Agatha asked if she could look around and I said she could, if she was quick about it, before folk arrived. She gazed down at the hopscotch markings on the path. “I know this,” she squealed. “We have this too.” Before I could stop her she jumped and hopped up the squares. Then she stared in wonder at the massive wooden climbing frame. “May I?” she asked. I shrugged and off she went, like a soldier clambering over the ropes and wooden slats.

Then I waved for her to come back. Kids were beginning to stream into the playground and I wanted Randolph to attract as little attention as possible. Next thing we were standing in front of the school building. I wished Kingsland was old fashioned but it wasn’t. I wished it had proper old-fashioned doors that couldn’t swing open by themselves. Ghost doors, Agatha called this kind. And I wished the bell didn’t screech. I gave Agatha a pair of Mum’s wax ear-plugs I’d found in the bathroom cupboard. She shoved them in her ears – just in time because the bell screeched like a fire alarm.

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