18. ESCAPING THE PRESENT

I had difficulty sleeping the rest of the night. The events during the murder investigations kept running through my mind. I thought about it a hundred times during that time. I doubt that there would be anything I could possibly remember now that would make any difference.

Unable to keep laying still and waiting for Brent to wake up, I get up quietly and make my way slowly up the dark staircase.

When I finally feel the door in front of me with my outstretched hand, I sigh a deep sigh of relief.

I unbolt the door as quietly as I can. When I push the door open, I am very relieved to find the storm outside have calmed down. There is dim sunlight shining through some of the shutters. There are papers strewn throughout the house. I walk slowly to the front door. The house feels cold and broken.

I open the front door and cringe at the sight of the tree that landed on Brent's car. The poor man. All he wanted was his vase back.

I leave the door open to get light into the house. The electricity is still out. My heart feels heavy.

I take broom and the scoop from the small washing room at the back of the house. I collect some old newspapers as well as some trash bags. I make my way up to the attic.

The tree window is shattered. Apart for that, the rest of the attic is fairly unharmed. There are leaves and small twigs on the floor. Everything seems extra dusty.

I sweep the floor and wrap the broken glass pieces in newspaper before I put it in trash bags. I finish sweeping the floor. Apart from the broken window the rest of the room seems fine.

The ground floor was not too difficult to clean up either. I had to pick up lamps and small ornaments.

Not a lot of things were broken but everything was dusty and there were a lot of leaves and twigs everywhere. I will do a thorough cleaning as soon as all the broken windows are fixed.

The sun seems to want to come out brightly but then it disappears again behind cloudy skies. It leaves the house feeling gloomy.

I walk up to the second floor. This is where all the papers come from. The room with the desk and all the leather-bound diaries has a broken window. The shutters have come loose and the windows couldn't withstand the storm. I pick up all the papers and put them in one box. Someday when my heart feels lighter, I will sort through them.

After tidying the room, I sit at the desk with the diaries. I pick up the first diary and undo the leather string tied around it. When I open the cover there is a year written onto the leather on the inside.

1965

I undo the leather string around the second diary.

1971

I start to pack the diaries in order from the oldest to the newest diary. When I have them all separated into different decades, I hear the creaking of the steps leading to the second floor.

Brent must have finally woken up. It doesn't take long for Brent to find me. He comes to stand in the doorway and looks at the stacks of diaries.

"What are you doing, little sapling?" He asks in a groggy tired voice.

"I found these diaries in the house when I moved in here. At first, I didn't understand what the old lady was writing about, but since I found the portal, it makes more sense now." I look over the stacks of diaries.

"These are now separated into decades. She kept more than fifty years of diaries. I want to go through them and see if I can find out how she was able to determine what year she ended up in."

I look at Brent and can see the confusion in his eyes.

"Why do you think she could determine how long she went back into time?" He looks at me with a questioning stare.

I realise that Brent has not seen the pictures of the old lady at the flower stand in front of the Big Ben. I get up from the floor and quickly run to the downstairs study. I have to search for the small pictures of the old lady and her husband in front of the Big Ben. The pictures were scattered with the wind blowing through the house. When I found all of them, I go back to the upstairs study to find Brent cross-legged on the floor.

I sit in front of him with the stacks of books between us. I hand him the pictures. He places them on top of the books in front of them and then rearranges them into a timeline from when the old lady was younger to when she was old and alone again.

"This is truly very interesting." Brent mutters softly.

"I think the answer to this will be in these diaries." I watch Brent carefully as he picks the pictures up and places them on the stack of diaries where he thinks they may be relevant to.

"Well then" Brent says as he looks at me. "It seems we have a lot of reading to do". He looks around the room and then right back at me with wide eyes. "But first! We need to check the gas cannisters to see if there is any threat of a gas leak. We also need to report the electricity outage so the power can be restored. Then we can sit here and read all we want."

We get up together and I walk behind Brent as he makes his way to the kitchen. I unlock the kitchen door and we step out to where the gas bottles are stored outside in a caged enclosure. He checks for leaks and assures me everything is fine.

The phone lines are out and there is no mobile phone signal. I suddenly feel extremely miserable. Brent comes to stand next to me just as a tear runs down my cheek.

"Hey there, little sapling. Don't cry. Everything will get sorted eventually" He puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug. "Everyone knows the power is out. The companies will make work of restoring everything as soon as they can."

A sob escapes my throat and I find myself really crying. I haven't cried in years. It feels odd and embarrassing. Even the reason why I find myself crying feels odd and embarrassing. Even though I wanted to live as a recluse, I still wanted to live comfortably. This whole storm has left me uncomfortable.

"I hate this! I want a warm shower and I want a soft bed. I want warm food and good coffee. I know I sound like a spoilt brat but those are the things I want!" I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and Brent hugs me a little tighter. He gives a small chuckle and lets go of me.

"I completely understand that. I we were campers we wouldn't mind camping." He smiles sweetly at me. "How about we book into a hotel until the house is sorted?" He smiles his confident smile and it warms my heart. I look around the bushed area where my house is situated.

"I have no idea where a hotel is around here" My voice still sounds sad.

"Yeah, we will not be booking into a hotel in this area during this time. Everyone will be having the same problems." He looks at me as if he is waiting for me to realise something. Suddenly I do.

"You want to go back and book in in that time." I cannot help but smile. That would really be a nice experience. I already look forward to the hot shower.

"What do you say little sapling? Shall we go back to where there is good weather and stay there until you feel better?"

I nod quickly and tell Brent that I will go pack a few things. While I grab some essentials, Brent fastens the shutters that came loose and locks up the house. I meet him a few minutes later in the hallway at the door that leads to the basement. He is carrying two large backpacks that looks heavy and loaded.

"What do you have there?" I ask Brent as we step through the basement door.

"I grabbed the diaries. We have a lot of reading to do. Might as well do it where we will be staying." He tells me as he locks the basement door from the inside and bolts the door.

We walk down the steps and go to the door behind the stairway. Brent has one backpack on his back and the other in his hand. The bag I am carrying has some clothes and our personal belongings.

Brent opens the first door that leads into the small concrete room.

"Ladies first" he announces and holds the door open for me to walk through.