Free Begun by Time by Morgan O'Neill Page A

accosted me. She… she grabbed my privates and propositioned me. She had almost no teeth, she smelled awful, and, and she spoke…as though she were in some blasted Shakespearean play.”
    He rubbed a hand through his hair and down his face. Haggard, he continued, “I sent her packing, and that’s when I noticed the Cisne Negro . It was moored exactly where the Cutty Sark had been, and the Cutty Sark was gone. The whole thing seemed very like the other events, but this time, not only could I hear and see who was talking, I felt her touch and caught her reek. It was as though I’d finally made it inside the room, where before I’d only been listening at the door.”
    Jonnie’s gaze wandered, unfocused. “She might’ve been part of a theater troupe, I suppose, but it would have been quite obvious I was spending a solemn moment in tribute. Why on earth would she interrupt — and, for that matter, why would a troupe have been following me about all this time? I simply cannot make any sense of it.”
    Dismayed, Catherine didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run home and hide, but she knew she mustn’t. That would be childish, and she was a grown woman now, about to be married to a wonderful, hurting man who needed her support. She put her arms around Jonnie and nestled against his shoulder. “We’ll get this straightened out, darling. I know we will.”
    He sighed. “I love you. I love your strength, your faith in me. What would I do without you, Catherine? And you, too, Dad. You are my twin pillars of strength. I should have gone mad weeks ago, I think, if I hadn’t the pair of you to lean on.”
    Catherine’s heart ached for him, ached for their future. Something was terribly wrong. His war fatigue — for that must be the cause, regardless of his denial — was very bad, but what could she do? What could any of them do for him? And yet, he seemed calm. Rational. Maybe he just needed time to overcome this trauma.
    She certainly hoped so, and she knew what he needed most of all was love and understanding.
    She could give him both.

Chapter Ten
    For three weeks, Catherine suppressed her mounting anxiety over Jonnie’s revelations. She hadn’t shared his situation with anyone and felt near to bursting. Jonnie never asked her to keep the information quiet, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak with her parents, at least not until she had her own thoughts straight on the subject. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she decided that discreetly broaching the subject with her dearest friend in order to find her way to clearer thinking was warranted.
    Dressed in her utility suit with a matching cloche hat and gloves, Catherine paced outside the small tea room near Victoria Park where she and Poppy were to meet. Her friend still felt uncomfortable going out in public, but this quaint spot was quiet, near Poppy’s home, and familiar to her. Catherine hoped she wasn’t putting undo pressure on her friend, but she needed to see her, needed to confide her worries to someone capable of listening and good with advice. Poppy was just the girl.
    “Catherine, hello,” Poppy called out.
    She glanced up and smiled. Poppy looked wonderful. Her cheeks were flushed and full, the dark circles beneath her pretty eyes gone, and she seemed happy.
    They embraced and went inside, where they were quickly seated, given menus, and left alone.
    “Thank you so much for meeting me,” Catherine said, tucking her gloves in her handbag. “You look well.”
    “Gosh, thanks. I’m feeling better. Tell me, how are you? How are the wedding plans coming along?” She leaned in. “You seemed a bit worried on the telephone. Is anything the matter?”
    Catherine didn’t answer right away, searching for the correct words to explain her predicament.
    “Oh, no,” Poppy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I can tell by your expression that something is wrong. Tell me. I’ll never breathe a word, you may be sure.”
    “Well, there may