Free Time After Time by Wendy Godding Page A

disparaging look before angrily striding away. Could this day possibly get any worse? It was one thing to be a reject of the majority of the student body, but now I bordered on being a reject of my own friends.
    ‘Going to slit your wrists, little emo girl?’ snickered Lilly as I marched past her table.
    ‘Do it properly, though,’ added Emma, ‘and spare us your ghastly presence every day.’ The two girls, plus their friends, broke into fits of laughter.
    Damn, why didn’t I go the other way ? In my haste to get away from Beth, Laura and their treachery, I’d walked right into Lilly’s lair.
    I drew a ragged breath, fisted my hands, and continued walking.
    Marcus was at the doorway, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. ‘Abbie, hey,’ he said, smiling easily as I pushed past him.
    ‘Hey, wait up!’ he called, and for the second time that day I heard him running to catch up with me. ‘What’s up?’
    ‘Leave me alone,’ I said irritably, not meeting his eyes.
    ‘You look upset.’
    ‘Another observation?’ I drawled sarcastically, ‘Well done, Einstein, now go join your friends and use your genius for those evil measures, and leave me alone.’
    ‘You want to be alone? Like Greta Garbo?’ His lips twitched.
    ‘Got it, pretty boy.’
    ‘You think I’m pretty?’ he asked, and I could hear the smile in his words, although I didn’t dare look at him.
    ‘I don’t think of you. Period.’ Even to me, the lie felt ugly in my mouth, like a bad taste. I did think about him, all the time, and, when I wasn’t thinking about him, I was dreaming about him.
    Then he said, ‘C’mon, Abbie. You think about me. I bet you’ve even dreamed about me.’
    I stopped, turning slowly to face him, feeling the blood drain from my face. ‘What did you say?’ I whispered. Suddenly, my throat felt very dry and parched. Did he know about the dreams? Did he remember? Could he, somehow, help me? Help Penelope?
    ‘Aha! I got you,’ smiled Marcus, chuckling, looking pleased.
    I stared at him in confusion, my heart thumping chaotically in my chest.
    ‘Hey, lighten up,’ he said after a moment, winking at me. ‘It was only a joke.’
    And just like that, my heart fell, dropping to the pit of my stomach. He didn’t remember.
    ‘A joke?’ I glared at him, feeling a flush of heat. ‘Well, I’m not laughing! And I’m not a joke, pretty boy, so you can just stop laughing at me!’
    I stormed off, and this time, he didn’t follow.

Chapter Eleven
    1806
    Penelope sat proudly in the front row listening to her father’s sermon, resisting the urge to turn around.
    That morning he was lecturing about science and how the scientific community was encroaching into areas of faith where it shouldn’t. God, the Holy Spirit and faith could not be explained by science. His voice and message rang clearly around the small, crowded church; he spoke with a depth and a passion Penelope knew he felt.
    Afterwards, she stood beside him as he greeted each parishioner by name, chatting amicably with them.
    ‘I was just saying to your daughter last night at Broadhurst Manor,’ Mrs Priscopp paused longer than necessary, ‘that I hope my Anne will be with us soon enough.’
    ‘That would be lovely indeed,’ Pastor Broadhurst told her pleasantly. ‘We’d all welcome another visit from your niece, wouldn’t we, Penelope?’
    Penelope smiled, finding it difficult to muster any warm feelings for the arrogant Anne.
    ‘Well, she’s very popular in London, but I’m sure she can be convinced to visit.’ She glanced over at the Broadhursts and Mr Lockwood. ‘A little fresh country air is good for one’s soul, I always say.’
    ‘And there is no air quite as good as the air in Broadhurst,’ Penelope’s father replied agreeably.
    ‘Quite right, Pastor Broadhurst, quite right,’ Mrs Priscopp agreed, ‘And the sights have been much improved of late. I’m sure my Anne would benefit the most from meeting the new guest in