Page 70 of Love and Other Paradoxes

“None taken.” He was surprised to realise he meant it. After all, it wasn’t as if he had written them.

“I used to run the Byron trip. Nowthere’sa poet.” Her eyes went dreamy. “You’ve seen the statue of him in the Wren Library? Doesn’t measure up when you’ve met the real thing. Thepresencethat man has...” She tailed off, blinking. “Sorry. What was I talking about?”

It took him a while to remember. “How you saw me and Diana getting cosy on a boat.”

“Right. Obviously, I immediately advised my bosses to shut the trip down.”

“Shut the trip down?” He thought of Esi, still hoping to climb out of the river into her new self. “You mean, close the wormhole?”

“We can’t close it. No one knows how. Yet another trade secret we’re not keen to have leak out.” She disappeared for a moment as they split up to round another tree. “No, usually, we just seal them off to the public. Which was my recommendation in this case. But my bosses feel we haven’t yet recouped sufficient value from this trip. The schedule says we keep it open till the end of June. We take a break while you’re doing your exams—we’re not monsters—then we open up again and get a nice flurry of visitors around graduation.”

That was going to be awkward if he didn’t graduate. “So keep it open,” he said, trying to ignore the lurch in his stomach. “Why do you care what I think? It’s not like I ever agreed to this anyway.”

She laughed. “Oh, you agreed to it. Or you will, in the future.” He imagined his future self signing away the rights to his past, and felt a wave of resentment. What a nozz. “But if we’re going to keep this trip open, we need your help.”

His leg was starting to ache. He stopped on the narrow pavement, leaning against the wall. “What kind of help?”

“I’m not asking you to stop seeing Ms. Dartnell. If that’s really what you’re into, knock yourself out. But if you could keep it to private locations during time travel hours—that’s nine to five—then I would really appreciate it.”

She was tense awaiting his answer, as if it really mattered. “What if I say no?”

“Then the trip gets shut down, the wormhole gets sealed off, and I get fired. Because fixing this fuckup is now apparently a condition of my continuing employment. And I really, really need to keep this job, for reasons I don’t care to explain to you right now.” She took a breath. “So? What do you say?”

She didn’t know that her concern was completely unnecessary: he wasn’t with Diana anymore. But either way, it didn’t matter. Esi needed the wormhole kept open, so he would promise whatever he had to. “Fine.”

“Thank you. Wow.” She looked almost as surprised as she was relieved. “You know what, I didn’t expect you to actually help me out. In the future, you’re kind of—”

“A nozz,” he said tiredly. “I know.”

“Seriously, though. I owe you a favour. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, let me know.”

He couldn’t help asking. “The people who come on your trips. Do any of them ever try and stay?”

“Some people get the idea in their heads, yeah. We’ve got one on this trip, actually. Gave me the slip early on and still hasn’t reappeared.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother us, as long as they don’t interfere with the target. It’s all covered in the terms and conditions. We just say their future was always in the past.”

It meant Esi was safe, as long as he kept away from her. He felt a pang of bittersweet relief. But Vera’s words made him imagine something else: a future where Esi didn’t go back through the wormhole. A future where she stayed. The consequences spiralling out from that decision felt immense enough to knock theworld off its axis. “But if you let people stay in the past, they’re going to affect everything. They could change the future completely.”

Vera wrinkled her nose. “Notthefuture.Afuture, maybe.” He didn’t understand the distinction. Maybe if you were used to everything being rewriteable, it made your idea of time less absolute. She clapped him abruptly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. Thanks, Mr. Greene. I appreciate it.”

He sketched an awkward half bow. Seconds later, he had no idea why. Something about being called Mr. Greene, probably. “You’re welcome. Sure I’ll see you around.”

“Soon.” She darted a glance at his leg. “Although we’d better wait till that’s healed up.”

“Thanks. That’s very considerate.”

She shot him an odd look as she jogged away.

He went to sit on the grass behind Queens’, watching the postlecture wave of students pass down Silver Street. For so long, he had thought his future was guaranteed. Then he had thought it was hopelessly lost. In truth, it was neither. Vera had come from a future where he and Diana were together, where he was still famous for his poems about her. He felt a strange, tender awe, that their connection was powerful enough to survive everything he’d done to destroy it. But nothing was set in stone: with one wrong step, that future could disappear.

He had wanted his life to feel less scripted, for his decisions to truly be his own. Now, he’d got what he wanted, and the result was that he felt paralysed, too afraid to move forward.

Weeks passed. His leg healed. The first time he stepped out of college and saw the time travellers across the street, his insides melted with relief. But it didn’t last. Instead, it sent him into ananxious cycle, obsessively checking his pigeonhole for gifts, terrified of finding it empty in case some random action had thrown his future off course. His borrowed confidence was gone, and he didn’t know how to get it back.

His pigeonhole wasn’t the only one he kept checking. Each day, he stopped by Trinity Porters’ Lodge and went to the one labelledEshun, E.The tape was gone, her name clearly visible, as if he had imagined it ever being hidden. The contents were unremarkable: a random flyer, a cupcake, a letter with an official college stamp. Nothing that looked like a note from Esi. She must have held back, too afraid of consequences she couldn’t control. It was so like her that it made his chest hurt.

On the last day of term, he was working on an essay when a message popped up in his MSN window. He opened it, expecting Rob demanding tea, but instead, there was a request from a new contact:

[email protected] has added you

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