Epilogue
Adam and I sit together on the bench underneath the old oak tree in the garden at the centre of Clockmaker Court. Some welcome winter sunshine is currently keeping us a lot warmer than we might have been if we were sitting out here in the shade.
‘They’re on their way,’ he says, looking at his phone.
‘You know they think you’re almost antiquarian using that old thing now,’ I tell him.
‘I can’t keep up with all the modern ways of communicating these days,’ Adam says, putting his old iPhone in the pocket of his warm winter coat.
‘I’m more than happy to continue using this for now.
It suits me. Plus, we need to keep a few old gadgets around us, for when we need to look authentic.
’ He raises his eyebrows at me, reminding me of when we were both much younger and Adam would cheekily do the same thing when he was teasing me or winding me up.
Nothing too much has changed with the two of us in all the years we’ve spent together since.
We still own shops next to each other in Clockmaker Court, with all our friends still close by.
We still enjoy a takeaway and a quiet night in more than we enjoy eating out at a fancy restaurant, and we are still very much in love with each other after twenty years together.
What has changed, however, is we are both a bit older and greyer, with a few more lines and wrinkles now Adam is sixty and I’m fifty-six. And we’ve also spent seventeen of our twenty years together as husband and wife.
‘If we’d kept all our old gadgets, I could probably sell most of them in the shop now as antiques,’ I say, casting my gaze across to Rainy Day Antiques.
The shop currently has its Closed sign hung in the window, while Adam and I wait snuggled together on the bench, and it’s the same for Adam’s bookshop next door.
Today is an important day for our family and we’re currently waiting for our two children to arrive from the townhouse we all share not far away. The same house I lived in when I first met Adam, and the house that originally belonged to my grandparents.
‘What do you think our grandparents would make of what we’re about to do today?’ I ask Adam, taking hold of his gloved hand with my mitten-covered one.
‘I think they’d be very proud of us,’ Adam says without hesitation. ‘Our great-grandparents would as well.’
‘Me too. We’ve had some adventures, haven’t we?’ I ask, resting my head on his shoulder. ‘In the last twenty years.’
‘You could call them that,’ Adam says, smiling ruefully as he puts his arm around me. ‘I’d call some of them lucky escapes.’
‘That too. But we’ve guarded our secret well and used it only for good. Just like we promised we would.’
‘Technically, you promised that. I don’t actually remember having much of a choice in the matter.’
‘You’ve loved every minute of it!’ I reply, knowing he’s just teasing me.
‘I have. But it’s not over, you know? We can’t retire just yet.’
‘No. We’re not quite passing on the baton. We’re simply training up the new team. Seriously, though, do you think they’ll be all right with it? It’s quite a thing we’re entrusting them both with.’ I turn to Adam, a worried expression on my face. I’ve been going back and forth about today for weeks.
‘They will be absolutely fine. They’re good kids. We’ll let them make their own decision, of course, but I’m pretty sure they’ll step up. Just as well they’ve inherited their mother’s bravery, eh?’
Adam leans in to kiss me.
‘Eurgh! Do you two have to do that on a public bench?’ Benji, our youngest, asks as he walks towards us across the court.
‘You are both far too old for PDAs,’ Dot, our eldest, says, wrinkling up her nose as she walks beside her brother.
‘I’ll have you know your mother and I were sitting on this bench having PDAs a long time before you two were ever thought about!’ Adam says, but he stands up to welcome his children by giving them a hug.
‘So what’s going on?’ Dot asks, sitting down next to me on the bench. ‘What’s the big secret?’
‘Yeah,’ Benji says, sitting down the other side of me. ‘What’s going on?’
I glance up at Adam. ‘Who said there’s a big secret?’
‘Eve,’ Adam says warningly. Adam is very aware that I’m still hesitant about sharing our secret with our children.
I want to protect them that little bit longer and keep them innocent.
But they are fifteen and thirteen now, and they’ve begun to question far too often just where we went, when we often went missing for hours at a time.
And just why they were never allowed in the basement of the shops.
‘All right, there is a bit of a secret we have to tell you.’ I put my arms around them both and pull them close.
‘Oh, my God, you’re not pregnant, are you?’ Dot asks, looking horrified.
‘No! Of course I’m not. Dot, I’m fifty-six and I’m in menopause. It’s very unlikely I’d be pregnant again, now, isn’t it?’
Dot shrugs. ‘Fair enough.’
‘What is the secret, then, Mum?’ Benji asks quietly. Benji is by far the quieter and more sensitive of our two children. I suspected a while ago he thought something was going on.
‘Yeah, why have you brought us out here on a freezing cold February day and made us sit on this old bench?’ Dot asks. ‘Can’t we at least go in one of the shops where it’s warm?’
Adam takes over. ‘The reason we’ve brought you here to this specific spot today is because many of the most important moments for your mother and I have taken place on this very bench, underneath this old oak tree.
It’s where I proposed to your mum.’ Adam looks lovingly down at me.
‘And it’s where she told me she was pregnant with you, Dorothy, and you, Benjamin.
’ I feel the children both sit up a bit straighter, as they always do when either of us use their full names.
Because usually they’re in trouble when we do.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘This bench and this oak tree have not only been a part of many important moments in our lives, they are also a part of the reason we’ve called you here today.’
I swallow hard as our two children – our whole world, and why Adam and I do many of the important and sometimes dangerous things we do – look up in anticipation at me, and I hesitate again.
‘It’s also a leap year this year,’ Adam says, taking over once more. ‘And now that it’s February and we’re fast approaching the twenty-ninth of this month, some things might start to happen that might seem a little odd to you.’
‘What sort of things?’ Benji asks.
It’s Adam who pauses now. He looks at me.
‘The thing is,’ I say. ‘Oh, where to start?’ I look desperately at Adam once more.
‘Mum, don’t worry,’ Dot says, taking hold of my hand. ‘You can tell us. Whatever it is, we’ll understand.’
‘Yeah,’ Benji says, taking hold of my other hand. ‘Take your time – there’s no hurry. I’m not going anywhere. Are you, Dot?’
‘No,’ Dot says. ‘We have all the time in the world …’
Her familiar words tug at my heart and I feel tears spring into my eyes as I think of Dotty. Hurriedly I blink them away.
Of course my children will get it, of course they’ll understand. They’ll understand and step up just like I did, and Adam, and all the people who came before us.
I look around Clockmaker Court, lost for a moment in memories of both friends and family, past and present.
The secrets of the portal, and everything wonderful and noble it can be used for, will remain safe for generations to come. Of that I have no doubt.
Because the memories we create and the love we share, with our friends and with our family, is always going to be the most important time of all.
THE END