Ruby Red

“Aunt Maddy!” Mum looked reproachfully at Great-aunt Maddy.

Great-aunt Maddy tut-tutted. “Oh, dear, she went on and on at me, asking questions. What was I to do? She’s just like you when you were little, Grace. And apart from that, she promised to keep quiet as a mouse about it.”

“Only to Grandmother,” I said. “Did Isaac Newton invent that chronograph thing as well?”

“You little telltale,” said Great-aunt Maddy. “I’m not saying any more.”

“What chronograph thing?” asked Nick.

“It’s a time machine for sending Charlotte back into the past,” I explained. “And it uses Charlotte’s blood for fuel.”

“Gross!” said Nick, and Caroline screeched, “Yuck, blood!”

“Can you travel into the future with the chronograph as well?” asked Nick.

Mum groaned. “Now look what you’ve done, Aunt Maddy.”

“They’re your children, Grace,” said Great-aunt Maddy, smiling. “It’s only natural for them to want to know what’s going on.”

“Yes.” Mum looked at us one by one. “But you must never ask your grandmother such questions. Do you understand?”

“Although she’s probably the only one who knows the answers,” I said.

“But she wouldn’t give them to you.”

“And how much do you know about it all, Mum?”

“More than I like.” Mum was smiling as she said that, but I thought it was a sad smile. “And no, you can’t travel into the future, Nick, for the simple reason that the future hasn’t happened yet.”

“Huh?” said Nick. “What sort of sense does that make?”

There was a knock, and Mr. Bernard came in with the telephone. Lesley would probably have freaked out if she’d seen the phone lying on a silver platter. Sometimes Mr. Bernard overdid the butler thing a bit.

“A telephone call for Miss Grace,” he said.

Mum picked up the phone, and Mr. Bernard turned around to leave the dining room. He didn’t eat dinner with us unless Lady Arista invited him to, which was about twice a year. Nick and I suspected that he ordered out for Italian or Chinese meals and enjoyed them in the comfort of his own room.

“Yes? Oh, Mother, it’s you.”

Great-aunt Maddy’s eyes twinkled. “Your grandmother can read thoughts!” she whispered. “She guesses we’re discussing forbidden subjects here. Who’s going to clear these plates away? We must make room for Mrs. Brompton’s apple cake.”

“And the vanilla custard!” I’d eaten a huge mound of rosemary potatoes with glazed carrots and pork medallions, but I wasn’t full yet. All the excitement had made me extra hungry. I stood up and began clearing the dirty dishes into the dumbwaiter.

“If Charlotte goes back in time far enough, could she bring me back a baby dinosaur?” asked Caroline.

Great-aunt Maddy shook her head. “Animals and humans without the gene can’t move through time. And no one can travel that far back anyway.”

“Oh,” said Caroline, looking rather disappointed.

“Just as well, if you ask me,” I said. “Imagine what it would be like if time travelers were always bringing back dinosaurs and saber-toothed tigers—or Attila the Hun or Adolf Hitler.”

Mum had finished talking on the phone. “They’re staying the night there,” she said. “To be on the safe side.”

“Staying the night where?” asked Nick.

Mum didn’t answer. “Aunt Maddy?” she said. “Are you all right?”

Twelve pillars the castle of time will bear.

Twelve creatures rule land and sea.

The eagle is ready to soar in the air,

Five’s the foundation and also the key.

In the Circle of Twelve, Number Twelve becomes Two.

The hawk hatches seventh, yet Three is the clue.

FROM THE SECRET WRITINGS OF COUNT SAINT-GERMAIN

FOUR

GREAT-AUNT MADDY looked curiously rigid. She sat staring into space, her hands clutching the arms of the chair. All the color had drained from her face.

“Aunt Maddy? Oh, Mum, has she had a stroke? Aunt Maddy, can you hear me? Aunt Maddy!” I tried to take her hand, but Mum stopped me.

“Don’t do that! Don’t touch her.”

Caroline started crying.

“What’s the matter with her?” asked Nick. “Is something stuck in her throat?”

“We’ll have to call the doctor,” I said. “Mum, do something!”

“She hasn’t had a stroke, and there isn’t anything in her throat. She’s seeing a vision,” said Mum. “It will be over soon.”

“Are you sure?” Great-aunt Maddy’s rigid glance frightened me. Her pupils were hugely dilated, and she wasn’t blinking at all.

“It’s so cold in here all of a sudden,” whispered Nick. “Don’t you feel it too?”

Caroline was whimpering quietly to herself. “Make it stop.”

“Lucy!” someone cried. We jumped in alarm and then realized that it was Great-aunt Maddy’s voice. The temperature really had dropped. I looked around, but there were no ghosts in the room. “Lucy, oh, the dear child! She’s leading me to a tree. A tree covered with red berries. Oh, where’s she gone? I can’t see her anymore. There’s something lying between the roots of the tree. A huge jewel, a sapphire cut in the shape of an egg. A sapphire egg. It’s so beautiful! And valuable. But now it’s cracking—oh, it will break—but there’s something inside it … a little chick hatching. A raven chick. Hopping over to the tree.” Great-aunt Maddy laughed, but her eyes were still fixed. Her shaky hands grappled for the arms of the chair.

“The wind’s rising.” Great-aunt Maddy’s laughter died away. “A stormy wind. Everything’s going around and around. I’m flying. Flying to the stars with the raven. A tower. A huge clock high up on the tower. There’s someone sitting up there on the clock dangling her legs. Come down at once, you silly girl!” Suddenly there was fear in her voice. She began to scream. “The wind will blow her down. She’s gone much too high. What’s she doing there? A shadow! A big bird circling in the sky! There! It’s swooping down on her. Gwyneth! Gwyneth!”

I couldn’t stand this any longer. I pushed Mum aside, took Great-aunt Maddy’s shoulder, and shook her gently. “I’m here, Aunt Maddy! Please! Look at me!”

Great-aunt Maddy turned her head. She did look at me. Gradually some color came back into her face. “My little angel!” she said. “How silly of you to climb so high!”

“Are you okay?” I looked at Mum. “Are you sure it wasn’t anything wrong with her?”

“It was a vision,” said Mum. “She’s all right.”

“No, I’m not. It was a horrible vision,” said Great-aunt Maddy. “Although the beginning was nice.”

Caroline had stopped crying. She and Nick were staring at Great-aunt Maddy, looking upset.

“That was eerie,” said Nick. “Did you notice how cold it got?”

“You were imagining things,” I said.

“No, I wasn’t!”

“It was eerie,” said Caroline. “I had goose bumps.”

Great-aunt Maddy reached for Mum’s hand. “I met your niece Lucy, Grace. She still looked the same as ever. That sweet smile…”

Mum looked as if she was going to burst into tears.

“And I just didn’t understand the rest of it,” Great-aunt Maddy went on. “A sapphire egg, a raven, Gwyneth on the clock tower, and then that horrible bird. Can you make anything of all that?”

Mum sighed. “Of course not, Aunt Maddy. You’re the one who has these visions.” She sat down on one of the dining chairs beside Great-aunt Maddy.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I understand them,” said Great-aunt Maddy. “Did you write it all down so that we can tell your mother about it later?”

“No, Auntie, I didn’t.”

Maddy leaned forward. “Then we’d better write it down at once. Right, first there was Lucy, then the tree. Red berries … could it have been a mountain ash? The sapphire egg was lying there.… Oh, my word, I’m so hungry! I hope you didn’t finish the apple cake. I deserve at least two slices today. Or three.”

* * *

“THAT REALLY was very, very eerie,” I said. Caroline and Nick had gone to sleep, and I was sitting with Mum on the edge of her bed, trying to find a good way to tell her about my problem. Mum, something funny happened to me this afternoon, and I’m scared it could happen again.

Mum was deeply engaged in her evening beauty routine. She’d finished her face already. Obviously good skin care paid off. You really wouldn’t have thought my mum was over forty.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen Great-aunt Maddy have one of her visions,” I said.

“It was the first time she’s ever had one during dinner,” replied Mum, rubbing cream on her hands and massaging it in. She always said that age showed first on your hands and your neck.

“Do—do we take her visions seriously?”

Mum shrugged. “Hm, well. You heard all that confused stuff she was saying. And it can always be interpreted differently. She had a vision three days before your grandfather died. She saw a black panther jumping on his chest.”

“And Grandfather died of a heart attack. So that makes sense.”

“See what I mean? They always hold some truth. Want some hand cream, darling?”

“Do you believe in it? I mean, not the hand cream, Aunt Maddy’s vision?”

“I think Aunt Maddy really sees what she says she does. But that doesn’t mean her visions predict the future, not by a long shot. Or that it has to mean anything in particular.”

“I don’t understand!” I held out my hands, and Mum began putting cream on them.

“It’s a bit like your ghosts, darling. I’m sure you do see them, just as I believe that Aunt Maddy has visions.”

“Does that mean you believe I see ghosts but you don’t believe they really exist?” I cried indignantly, taking my hands away.

“I don’t know whether they really exist or not,” said Mum. “What I believe has nothing to do with it.”

“But if they didn’t exist, that would mean I was just imagining them. And that would mean I was crazy.”

“No,” said my mum. “It would only mean that … oh, darling, I don’t know what to say. Sometimes I get the feeling we have rather too much imagination in this family. I suppose we’d live more restful, happier lives if we stuck to believing what normal people believe.”

“I get the message,” I said. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a great idea to come out with my news tonight. Hey, Mum, we traveled back into the past this afternoon, me and my abnormal imagination.

“Don’t look so sad,” said Mum. “I know, I know, there are more things in heaven and earth and all that. But maybe we make them seem far too important the more we think about them. I don’t think you’re crazy. Or Aunt Maddy either. But be honest: do you imagine Aunt Maddy’s vision could have something to do with your own future?”