Page 62 of Right Place, Right Time
Adam and I both think about this.
‘And,’ Barney continues, ‘if you remember, we discussed the doodles in the notebooks were drawn in ballpoint pen, likely much later than the original notes written in black fountain-pen ink.’
‘So that means,’ I say, still thinking, ‘that even if the room was used in the forties and the reports we found last night were typed then, someone much later set upthe combination lock on the door and added to what was already in the notebooks.’
‘Someone that wanted someone else in the future to discover what was going on, and so left them a trail of clues so that they might discover the room.’ Adam looks at me, as everything crazily begins to drop into place.
‘And it appears,’ I say quietly, ‘that that someone wanted the people who discovered it to be us.’
20
Barney reluctantly heads off to his job at the university, while Adam and I grab a coffee and some breakfast from Harriet and Rocky’s café.
We go in for bacon rolls, but surprisingly come out with pastries. An apple turnover for Adam, and a cinnamon and apple tart for me.
‘So, what next?’ Adam asks as we’re about to enjoy our breakfast while leaning over the counter in my shop, which luckily for us is quiet today after the bank holiday weekend. Not good for my takings, but it does give us the space to be able to think.
‘I have no idea,’ I reply honestly.
‘I feel like a lot of the answers we’re still searching for can be found in this painting.’ Adam goes over to look at the bold, brightly coloured artwork on the wall.
‘And this clock,’ I say, doing the same to the grandfather clock.
‘What do they have in common?’ Adam asks, examining the painting. ‘Other than the fact they both came from my grandfather’s house and the time is the same on both clocks? And why is this piece of artwork so differentin style than all his other paintings? There has to be something else, something we’re missing …’
‘What about the matching trees?’ I say.
‘Yeah, they’re the same shape and they both have the exact same number of branches – twelve. Argh, this is all so frustrating,’ Adam says, his brow furrowing. ‘I feel like the answers are all there, but we just can’t see them!’
‘Let’s have our breakfast. Maybe some food and some coffee will help our brains to think a little more clearly.’
We begin to tuck into our pastries. But something else from last night is still bothering me.
‘Adam?’ I say, when Adam has just taken a huge bite of his apple turnover.
‘Mmm.’ He tries to reply politely with his mouth full.
‘When you opened up on the bench outside yesterday about what had happened to you, I was really touched you shared that with me. It meant a lot – really, it did.’
Adam finishes chewing. ‘I don’t tell many people about it. Only those that matter.’
‘Thank you. Then it means even more in that case.’
‘Maybe one day you’ll share all your dark secrets with me too?’
My heart stops.How does he know?
‘You don’t need to pretend to look shocked,’ Adam says, taking a gulp of his coffee. ‘I know you’re far too pure to have any deep, dark secrets to share…’
Oh … he’s joking with me.
‘So we’ll have to reserve our lovely old tree outside for lunches and coffee breaks only from now on.’ As Adam glances out of the window at the little garden, his amiable expression changes and he frowns.
‘Is everything all right?’ I ask.
He suddenly cries out, ‘Oh, my God, that’s it!’
‘What’s it?’ I ask, confused.
