Free The Reluctant Time Traveller by Janis Mackay

and took the cup.
    “Wet yer whistle on that, Blackie,” he said.
    It was bitter, sweet and overpowering. But it tasted good, in a painful way. I drank the whole cup, and thought ‘wet yer whistle’ – I must remember that. I thought how I’d tell Will and Robbie to wet their whistles. Even though I was in dire straits, I couldn’t stop a smile creeping over my face.
    “What did I tell yea?” said Noble with a funny wee clap of his hands, “there’s nothing like a guid cup o tea to pit the world to rights. Many’s the time I’m that tired I could lie mysel down and die, and what pits me to rights? Aye, you’ve guessed it, Blackie; a cup o’ tea.”
    I nodded. What else could I do? I had this sinking feelingthat this was no dream. I was still sitting on the stone floor, dazed, with the empty cup in my hand. I knew if I stood up I would fall. Noble bent down and took the empty cup from me.
    “Run away frae the poor house, did ye?” Then he shook his head in pity. “Right queer-looking clothing they give yea. Wasn’t like that in my day, but nae doot things have changed. If you don’t mind me saying, Blackie, you look like a thief in they clothes.”
    This strangled little laugh burst out of my throat. If he had any idea how much these jeans had cost Mum, he wouldn’t be shaking his head and feeling sorry for me. And if he had any idea what a frump he looked. He was dressed like an old man, but he was probably not much older than me.
    “We’ll have you kitted out and looking spic and span in no time,” he said, flicking a crumb from his baggy jacket. “Gaunt has a finger in a’ manner o’ pies. The poor house is one o’ his pies, if yea get ma drift.” I didn’t. But it was beginning to dawn on me that Noble was ok. If he took off the mad clothes he would look pretty cool. “What I mean tae say, is,” he bent closer to me and lowered his voice, “they’re not going to come here beating the door down for yea.” He sighed. “They didn’t bother coming after me and my sister Elsie.”
    I felt like telling him how I wasn’t from the poor house, whatever that was. I wanted to tell him the whole time travel story. I wanted him to know I wasn’t that poor and I was actually going to go on the school trip to France. My mouth fell open but no words came.
    “His majesty, Mr Gaunt, is dining out today,” he said, yawning. “He willna be back for a guid couple o’ hours. Sometimes he goes off for days. God alone kens where.” Poor guy looked exhausted. He had dark patches under his eyes and his skin was pale like he hardly ever saw the sun. He locked the door and stuffed the huge bunch of keys into aninside pocket of his jacket. “You and me can have a wee kip for an hour or so. His majesty will be none the wiser and Mrs Buchan’s doon the toon buying linen to make bed sheets. And no doubt she’ll spend a good hour gossiping. She’s never in any hurry tae get back here.”
    And unbelievably, he sat down, stretched out on the cold stone floor, took off his too-small cap and placed it carefully down next to him, rolled onto his side, folded his hands under his cheek, closed his eyes, mumbled, “Good night, Blackie,” and went to sleep.
    “My name’s Saul,” I said, but he was snoring by then so I don’t think he heard.

15
    Agnes
     
    I had the strangest feeling while I was singing on the street. It was like the jostling crowd fell away and there was only one person there listening. I felt certain I was staring into the green, sparkling eyes of my very own great-great-great-great aunt. Then that big man who grabbed Saul called her ‘Jean’. It must be her. But I couldn’t stop and try to talk to her, or even thank her for standing up to the man. I had to follow Saul when he was dragged away. Now I was in a big tree outside the garden wall of the big house. What was going on in there? What could I do to help Saul? I took out my diary and my pencil. When there’s no one to talk to it is a