Stealing Time Rebecca Bowyer (love story novels in english TXT) đź“–
- Author: Rebecca Bowyer
Book online «Stealing Time Rebecca Bowyer (love story novels in english TXT) 📖». Author Rebecca Bowyer
“I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“Is that true? That the technology doesn’texist?” The uplift at the end of the word, the slight break in herfriend’s voice. Varya couldn’t quite tell if it was hope or anaccusation.
“Varya?”
“It’s true. It was all destroyed, completelywiped, the last time.”
“But if it’s time thieves, if they’verebuilt it, we’ll need it to help Daniel when he comes back. Can’tRest Time Corps build it, just in case? Can’t they dosomething?”
A janitor rolled his bucket and mop aroundthe corner and headed towards where Varya stood. She turned andshielded the screen with her hand, lowering her voice. “Zoe, Ithink we should save this conversation for another…”
“A child is dead, Varya! Ben is dead. AndDaniel is… he’s gone. He’s not safe anymore. My little boy isn’tsafe.”
Varya’s stomach churned with nausea.
“He’s only nine years old. He’s barely evenlived.”
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “But I can’ttalk now. I’ll come around soon and…”
“Not now. I don’t want you here. I want youto find something that will help Daniel. Please.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”
Varya went back to her lunch and sat downheavily on the seat. The screen in the corner continued to buzz itsstream of bad news in the world. Staff continued to walk to and froup and down the hallway, visible through the full-length glasspanels installed all down one side of the lunchroom. Foodsmells—fruit salad, raisin toast—merged until the room started tospin and close in on Varya.
“Hey.”
The light dimmed as she blinkedfuriously.
“Hey, you okay?”
She took a shallow breath and held ittentatively, then let it out again. She nodded but didn’t feelbrave enough to turn to greet Connor yet.
He opened his lunch bag and started tounpack the contents. A cheese sandwich and an apple. The bread andthe fruit smelled delightfully fresh. Varya inhaled deeply andcaught the scent of Connor’s sweat in her nostrils as well. It wasnot unpleasant.
“Just feeling a bit off.” She wrapped up theremnants of her own meal and tucked them back into their box. Shestood up, too quickly, and leaned forward onto the table, her palmsflat, her eyes closed, as a wave of dizziness enveloped her.
Connor watched her, chewing on his sandwich.He swallowed and packed the rest of it away.
“I’ll drive you home.”
“No, I’m…” She was going to tell him she wasfine. She was going to tell him she could look after herself, likeshe had done for years. But she looked into his eyes and sawgenuine concern. She tried it on for a moment, savouring what itfelt like to be the one who relied upon others, rather than the onewho was leant on. It felt good.
“Actually, thank you, that would begreat.”
Connor nodded. “Meet me in the car park inten minutes, then. At your car. We’ll move that box of files fromyour car to mine. I’m guessing you’ll be wanting it tonight.” Helooked up at the screen in the corner pointedly. It was showing apicture of a serious-looking government official, a thumbnail ofBen’s smiling face permanently floating in the corner. Varya lookedat the screen and then back at Connor, frowning.
“Ten minutes,” he said. Then he left.
Chapter seventeen
Marisa
On the next floor up, an apartment door swung open.Marisa braced herself from her seated position outside Varya’sdoor. She heard the door swing shut, the click echoing down thepainted concrete stairwell. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Marisa lookedup.
“Afternoon.” She held one hand up to thewhite-haired woman who stood, left foot still hovering uncertainlyover the last step. The woman pursed her lips and fingered theruffle that rippled down the centre of her shirt, neatly hiding thebuttons. Apparently deciding that Marisa wasn’t an immediatethreat, she continued her journey across the landing and down thenext flight of stairs.
Marisa chewed her fingernail and listenedhopefully for any familiar ascending footsteps.
“Ah, stuff it,” she muttered, jumping up andpulling her screen from her back pocket. She tapped and swiped atit a few times, then held the device up to Varya’s door. After amoment, the lock clicked. Marisa grinned and pushed the door opengently.
Inside, she moved quietly through theentrance hall, touching the hall stand absentmindedly as she went.There were no pictures on the wall. The carpet was dark grey, theonly warmth. Everything else was white. Not for the first time,Marisa mused that her employer had managed to recreate somethinglike a home laboratory. A few more steps through the living roomand she turned left to the small kitchen.
“Hello, old friend,” she greeted the coffeemachine. She took a moment to breathe in the ground coffee beforeshe scooped it out and packed it into the filter. A little jolt ofpleasure shot down through the pit of her belly as she wrenched thehandle into place and pushed the button. A mechanical whir startedup and she waited, mesmerised, for the dark, hot liquid to streamout of the filter and into the waiting cup.
Marisa shrugged her jacket off and sat on akitchen chair, never taking her eyes off that stream. Even with thehefty commission Varya paid her for selling the time tabs to theentitled wealthy, she couldn’t afford to buy more than a single cupof coffee for herself each week. Besides, she preferred to save herown money for her early retirement. She wouldn’t need time tabs.She’d work hard now and then have more time than she knew what todo with by the time she turned fifty-five. That was her plan,anyway. She didn’t intend to ever have a Rest Time Ceremony. Sheplanned to throw away the calendar in her final months and, with abit of luck, keel over while sipping a martini on a tropical beachsomewhere. As she removed the cup of steaming coffee from thegrille, she noticed the way the skin on the back of her handcreased more readily now. Not quite crêpey yet, but almost likesoft scales.
“Best hurry up with those savings, woman,”she chided herself.
By the time the apartment’s front dooropened again, Marisa was on to her second cup and starting to feela little jittery.
The duo that padded down the hallway wassilent and tense. Marisa poked her head out of the kitchen andwatched in fascination as Varya led a stranger through the door.She’d never seen Varya let
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