Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
Y ork, present day
Cara sat in her car outside George’s house. Late morning turned to early afternoon. She was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t get her head around what had happened—how could he just disappear?
Irrationally she considered whether he might have done it to spite her. When she was upset, he liked to remind her that nothing he did was to hurt her. And she believed him; most of the time. She knew he didn’t consciously mean to hurt her, but sometimes when she pushed him too far, his anger was steel-edged and he pushed back; hard. He was only human, no matter how much she idolised him.
Cara’s anger evaporated when he allowed her a glimpse of the vulnerability beneath his confident veneer. If anything, it made her feel more loved. It was one method by which she gauged the depth of his feelings. If he wasn’t madly in love with her, he wouldn’t be so affected.
But she’d run from him. Now, perhaps he was running from her. Could it be so? She’d read about the cycles of Twin Flames on a popular blog, following one of her visits to Sylvia. Thousands of distraught couples were caught in love limbo, in search of the other half of their soul. Many of them didn’t understand what it was they were searching for. They just intuitively knew something was missing from their life. The classic Twin Flame dance moved to a seductive rhythm and Cara was disorientated from spinning. Lately, their relationship was more of a tragic tango than a love affair. It would require both of them to be courageous to make the changes to be together, with minimum collateral damage. She didn’t know exactly how, but she sensed a resolution was possible with some willingness to be uncomfortable for a while. But he wasn’t willing.
Cara would do anything to turn back time and bring George back. Such was her despair; at that moment, she would be relieved even if he stayed with Joanna.
Please God let everything reset to how it was, and I will tinker no more. Just let him be alive.
As she sat in the car, praying for a miracle, it occurred to her that this must be true unconditional love. It certainly felt better than being the jealous bitch from hell. She laughed aloud at her craziness. At least something positive was emerging from this nightmare.
Cara raised her head as she heard a sudden noise and saw the front door open. George’s wife exited the house. So, it had been Joanna standing in the doorway kissing the George lookalike. Cara watched as she flung her handbag over her shoulder and bounced down the path, laughing with a teenage girl who resembled George’s daughter. They jumped into a white Range Rover, and Cara watched them pull away. Her head ached.
Had she just witnessed her first alternative reality?
Joanna must have married the man she was destined to be with if George wasn’t in the picture. If only Joanna had been married to this other guy all along, none of this mess would have happened. George would have been free when she met him, and they would have avoided this disaster. Or would they? She had no way of knowing. She wondered whether there was some way to change their circumstances while keeping George alive. That would be the perfect solution to all of their problems.
Cara turned the key in the ignition and steered the car down the bumpy road in the direction of her office.
She hated to admit it, but without George, everything was meaningless. Her spark had vanished and now he was gone forever. She blamed herself.
Cara closed her office door behind her, heart racing as she stabbed at Eddie’s number on her phone. He answered after a couple of rings.
‘Eddie, you won’t believe it!’
‘Hi. Are you okay?’
‘Seriously, you won’t believe it. I have to talk to you or I won’t believe it either.’
‘What the devil’s going on?’
‘I’ve just seen a man who looks like George leave his house.’
‘Right, okay. . .and?’
‘He’s not George, but he kissed Joanna; George’s wife. And then a girl came out who looked like his daughter but I’m certain wasn’t. It was so bizarre. George isn’t alive, Eddie. It’s as I feared. He’s been deleted from this timeline.’
Her voice shook, and her hysteria echoed back at her through the phone. ‘His phone is dead too. It’s like he never existed.’
‘Take a deep breath, my dear. Try and calm down. It’s tricky for me to understand what you’re saying. What else has happened? Is that it? Couldn’t the lookalike be a relative?’
‘No. I went to George’s workshop first. It’s a private residence belonging to a family who has lived there for forty years. No wonder it looked different. Remember you said something was off when you delivered the letter?’
‘Ah yes, the building did seem different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. My mother used to say that I walk around with my eyes closed, so for me to notice something odd, it must have been striking.’
‘Could George be a time traveller too, do you think?’ Cara interrupted his musings.
‘George, a time traveller? I hadn’t considered it. I suppose he could be. Practically, of course, we know it’s possible. I don’t remember anything of significance from Tudorville though, do you?’
‘No, since Sylvia told me about Twin Flames I’ve assumed he’s the other half of my soul, reincarnated in the form of his direct descendant who bears the same name. They are identical to look at, but then that’s not at all unusual in families, is it?’
‘Um, no, I suppose not. Let’s try and think this through clearly before we rush into action. There must be a lot going on that we’re unaware of. . .that we just don’t know yet.’
‘Agreed. There would seem to be two possible scenarios. The first is that I’ve messed up the timeline by travelling back too early, getting caught, and interrupting the natural order of events. If he’s dead, he must have been captured and executed at Tower Green, like Queen Anne. We do know that Henry is in his season of killing.’
‘Okay, yes, that’s possible. Although any number of things could have happened after you returned; not necessarily his execution.’
‘True, but as much as I hate to think it, if he’s not alive in the here and now, the chances are high that he was killed in 1536.’
Eddie looked into the video camera and saw her pale face and grey, haunted eyes. ‘You look dreadful, my dear. It’s going to be all right. We’ll figure this out together.’
Cara gulped back the emotion and made a stoic effort not to cry. She knew this was a critical time to be strong. If she gave in to the urge to think about her feelings she’d sink into a pool of despair. Their whole future hung in the balance.
‘Thank you. You’re a dear friend. I’ll fall apart and be no good to anyone if I don’t do something to save George now. The waiting is killing me.’
‘What’s the other scenario?’ Eddie probed gently, wishing he had the power to alleviate her distress. He still blamed himself for sending her on the fatal mission which had quite possibly cost George his life.
‘I’m wondering what the implications of George also being a time traveller could be. Is it possible that him not being alive now is pure coincidence and could have happened anyway?’
‘Um, it’s hard to say,’ replied Eddie.
‘There’s no time to waste. Let’s assume I messed up the timeline by returning too early. We either try to turn back time so George is still alive in present day, or we must save him from the Tower in Tudorville before they execute him. There may still be a chance. I’m terrified they caught him and he died at the Tower like the queen. The king has turned into a ruthless tyrant. All he cares for is satisfying his lustful vengeance.’
‘In quantum terms, it’s true. If George doesn’t exist now, then it would seem as though he died. Although it doesn’t necessarily mean it happened in Tudorville. Just to complicate matters, it could have been any time in-between, or if he is indeed a time traveller, then the number of other possibilities increases tenfold.’
‘This is terribly confusing. What do you think gives us the best chance of saving him? At this point, I’ll do anything to bring him back, even though we’ll be living separate lives. If I can go back far enough in time to before we met and fell in love in Tudorville, I think it should reset the timeline to how it was before our experiment, and he should be alive today.’
‘Is that what you want?’ asked Eddie.
‘No. Of course not. But anything is better than him being dead. I can’t bear it. I’d rather he’s dead to me but living his life.’
‘Okay, well we can’t know if George is a time traveller, and ironically there’s no time to find out. There are too many unknowns. I think you’re right. It does seem as though he’s not alive now because of our meddling,’ said Eddie.
They talked through various options and began to formulate a plan. Cara would attempt to leave for Tudorville today. It was a blood moon eclipse; a perfect day to slip through the gateway and attempt to turn back time to save George.
The Tower of London, 1536
Cara, the children and Edward were released first, in accordance with George’s terms. The Tower guard pushed them one by one through the tall wrought iron gates.
Swifty and George watched them stumble out into the gloomy London morning. Heavy clouds hovered on the low, murky skyline, and the threat of rainfall loomed.
George couldn’t take the chance that the children would recognise him, so he had disguised himself in a sailor’s uniform and a blond wig which he’d appropriated from Madame Alicia’s costume chest. He would try to catch Cara’s eye; it could be the last time they would see each other.
The pre-wedding hustle and bustle on the streets around the Tower made it easy to avert his face as his family passed. A few members of the crowd jeered. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation; they were spoiling for another execution.
King Henry was to marry Jane Seymour, his next queen, at the end of May. Impromptu street parties had broken out all over the city, despite the uncertainty and tension in the air. The people had not loved Anne Boleyn, so most weren’t sorry she was gone. Katherine of Aragon had been their true queen, but they recognised that the old order had changed.
Even in these humiliating circumstances, Cara walked like a noblewoman, shoulders back, head high. She knew, especially in these circumstances, it was critical not to show any sign of weakness. She’d been raised to be proud and strong, and this was the behaviour she modelled for her children.
As she reached out to touch May’s shoulder, a pair of familiar dark eyes caught hers. She turned to search the crowd. Was he an apparition or was George watching them? She hadn’t eaten more than a crust of bread for days, and she barely trusted her senses. The tiny portions of food they’d received weren’t enough to feed the children. She needed to ready Thomas and May for their next ordeal. They wouldn’t like being parted from her again, but she must send them to Willow Manor, to their grandparents. The agreement with the king was that she would retire with her children to a quiet life at their country home and never attend court again. It was dangerous to flout King Henry’s orders, but she couldn’t go to York while George was on the run. She must find him. Together they could get through anything, separate they were weak.
Thank God, she’d arrived back again so soon; she’d only been gone a couple of hours in Tudorville. She had tried to turn back time by focusing on travelling back to the day before she met George for the first time, but once again she’d failed in her audacious attempt to navigate time on demand. Perhaps it was only possible to travel back and forth in a linear fashion. But if that was so, how had she deleted George’s timeline?
She’d tried to do what she thought must be the right thing by sacrificing their shared history, but she hadn’t pulled it off despite her best intentions. Now she was relieved to be back in a time when her one true love lived. She would go full force into making sure George wasn’t executed. She’d do whatever it took to save him; to save them. Staying in London and disregarding the king’s rules was a risk she was willing to take, made slightly lighter by knowing that in the event of neither of them surviving, the children would be cared for by George’s parents. Cara and George had lost their newly bestowed titles and lands, but they still had their family home. Cara would gladly give it all up to live a quiet life, but not without her husband.
George stared longingly at Cara’s back as she walked away; perhaps forever. He couldn’t take the chance that the king’s men would see them together, but he’d had to have a glimpse of her. The risk of his family being caught and thrown back into the Tower was too high. That would serve no one. He must keep them safe, no matter how much his heart ached at being so close and unable to reach out to touch her one last time. He watched until they were out of sight, then turned and nodded farewell to Swifty before walking towards the Tower gates to turn himself him.
George sat on a hard, wooden chair near the window overlooking the spot where Anne Boleyn had lost her life. He reflected on how low Henry’s favourites had fallen in such a short period. It was over. What more could be done? He would try to go to his death with honour and be grateful that it was him, not Cara who would face the executioner. If he knew she was okay, he could handle anything. His eyes lit on the dusty floor and flooded with unexpected tears as he saw Thomas and May’s names etched into the dust. As he’d suspected, he’d been thrown into the cell they had occupied immediately before him. Thank God, they were safe and on the way home to his dear parents. He knew he could rely on them to take care of Cara and the children.
The following morning the cell door was flung open, and a gaoler called, ‘The king has come, and he requires your presence immediately.’
George rubbed his gritty eyes and leapt to his feet. Somehow, he’d managed to sleep for a few hours despite the hard, lumpy mattress and the freezing cold air. He’d tried not to dwell on what was ahead of him so he could sleep; not spin in his hopeless grief. This was his chance to appeal to the king who had been his companion and friend for many years, not just his master. Perhaps he would have mercy when he realised George was still his loyal servant.
George entered the audience chamber where Henry sat on one of his many thrones. He fell to his knees and kissed King Henry’s hand. The king’s cluster of rings shone against the backdrop of the dim room.
‘Your Grace, I’m overjoyed to see you again, but I’m distraught to find myself in such dire circumstances.’
‘Rise, rise, Cavendish. I’m heartsick at these charges brought against you and the countess. We released her at your request and for the sake of your children and the friendship we shared, but this profound treachery deeply wounds me. What have you to say for yourself?’
‘Sire, I beg you to please reconsider. I would never do anything to endanger you or your crown. My life has been dedicated to serving you.’ George’s head remained bowed.
‘It seems you and your lady wife were more loyal to your former queen than to your king. I was informed that you hatched plans to double-cross me in league with the northern lords. And you! The one and only northern lord whom I trusted. I would have granted you anything. How could you do it?’ Spittle flew from the king’s lips, and he flushed an angry pink as he ran his hand through his faded red hair.
‘I swear I didn’t do anything other than be your trusted advisor as I have always been since you appointed me these many years past. And my wife served the former queen at your bequest. We held no special affiliation to her. The charges against us are cooked up by one of your enemies in order to turn you against us. Please believe me, Your Grace.’
Henry shifted in his seat. He was weary of the web of deceit that surrounded him.
‘It is with great sadness, George, that I must condemn you to remain in the Tower to await sentence from the council. They will meet within the week and decide your fate. I pray that you will not be executed like so many of my dear friends, but it’s out of my hands. It’s for Cromwell and his men to evaluate the evidence to see what the charges must be.’
There was nothing more George could say. He knew the king well enough to know he was washing his hands of the situation because he didn’t wish to offer him a reprieve.
‘I hope you’re grateful for the release of your lady wife and children. I’m a benevolent king, but I’m unable to show mercy in the face of such double-dealing and treachery. Your title has been revoked. For the sake of your father, who served my father with an unblemished record, your family will remain untouched at their home in York. Of that, you have my word so you may face your fate in peace.’