A Stitch in Time by Amanda James Read Free Book Online Page B

tripe and onions.
    Sipping her tea by the fire, Sarah began to feel a little more like herself. But of course she wasn’t herself. She was Sarah, Violet’s niece, and living in 1940! How could that be? A thought munched its way into her mind like a grub through an apple. What if she wasn’t herself at all?
    Jumping up and nearly dropping the china cup and saucer in the process, she looked at her reflection in the mirror above the fire. No, she was herself. No make-up, apart from some garish red lipstick and pencilled eyebrows, but certainly herself. She placed the cup on the chair and patted her hair. It was rolled into a hairnet and looked quite glamorous. She was reminded of the old film star, Bette Davis. Karen, eat your cold little heart out!
    ‘Here you are, love, take your toast. Now, I’m just going to put me feet up for two minutes, before I get to work on that bread.’ Violet sat in the chair opposite Sarah and yawned loudly. ‘I feel exhausted. It’s all go at that factory.’
    Sarah sniffed the cheese on toast and took a small bite. It was very cheesy but surprisingly good. Violet nodded off after a few seconds, snoring and whistling like a jet engine. Sarah polished off her snack and wished she had more. How could she have an appetite in this totally surreal situation?
    She picked up her tea and drained what was left. She coughed and spat it out again into the cup.
What the
 …
?
She swirled the cup.
Ah yes, tea leaves; these are the days of loose tea. Most folk didn’t have teabags until the late 1960s.
    Sarah picked the remaining tea leaves from her tongue, stretched in the chair and yawned. The fire was making her feel sleepy and Violet snoring the house down didn’t help.
Come on, Sarah, pull yourself together. You have a mission to complete and a plan to formulate.
She guessed that a plan to mirror Violet like two bookends, at each side of the fire, snoring for England, wouldn’t be a good one. Nevertheless, two minutes later she was asleep.
    Was she awake or asleep? She thought she’d heard someone’s voice. Peeping from under her lashes, she sleepily realised where she was, and who was talking. Sarah groaned inwardly.
    ‘Yes, they
are
in, they’ve just fallen asleep by t’ fire … which is almost out,’ Albert called to someone over his shoulder, flicked the light on and poked the dying embers. ‘Good job we came by; they’d ’ave woken up bloody freezin’.’ He threw a handful of coal on the now more lively looking fire.
    Violet sat up and rubbed her eyes. ‘Blimey, ’ave I slept all this time?’
    ‘Aye, lass and young Sarah’s still asleep. Does this mean there’s no bread?’
    ‘Albert, for goodness sake, yer obsessed wi’ my bread! I’ll get to it now.’
    Sarah was not still asleep but really wished she was. Perhaps if she stood up and cleared her head, the whole scene would disappear. Hauling herself out of the chair, she rubbed her eyes; nope, no good. She blinked and gawped idiotically at Violet and Albert. ‘I’m still here in 1940, then?’ she asked.
    ‘You weren’t joking, then, Dad,’ said a voice behind her, ‘Sarah really ’as gone a bit funny.’
    Turning, she met the eyes of a man in his thirties, dark haired and suited. The eyes were a sea-green … and belonged to John, the Time-Needle.

Chapter Five
    ‘John!’ Sarah put a trembling hand to her mouth. ‘I thought you didn’t travel, just sewed.’
    John raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. ‘Travel, sewed? I drive trains and I’ve never picked up a needle in my life, what the ’eck are yer on about?’
    ‘Well, at least she knows yer name, lad; there must be some improvement inside ’er noddle,’ Albert said, chuckling.
    ‘But, you
are
John … I don’t understand,’ Sarah said, feeling the need to sit down again. He was identical to the John from the future, was even called John, but why? Was that a sign? Was he the one she had to save?
    John’s face softened. ‘Never mind,