Page 61 of The Uprising
‘If it wasn’t happening to us, I’d say whoever came up with that theory was a bit of a chump.’
‘Classic you,’ she said.
‘Either way, there’s no point us getting so worked up over something we have no control over,’ he continued.
‘Yeah, but when it all gets too much, I can’t help thinking about it. If only Eddie would have a breakthrough with the time travel system, we could at least have some say on when we travel. Imagine how much simpler our lives would be if we could choose to leave and return when we want instead of when the vortex decrees?’
‘I imagine it would be a double-edged sword. It’ll all work itself out, and don’t forget, if we can pull it off, we’ll soon be able to put in an offer on Willow Manor. I’m excited about that—it will give us something positive to focus on,’ he said.
An overwhelming sense of love welled up in Cara’s chest as she looked at him. ‘You’re right, that is so exciting.’ She took several deep breaths and resolved to be more philosophical. She had been gripped by intense feelings of doom intermittently since the previous day.
‘I considered cancelling my visit to the archives, but I think I should go,’ she said.
‘You really don’t have to, you know,’ he said, looking across at her and covering her hand with his.
‘I know, but I think I should have a poke around and see what I can find out about our past lives. We’ve never actually looked at any records at all. Maybe we’re missing something critical that will help us.’
‘Okay, whatever you think is best,’ he said.
Cara always felt safe with George. She relaxed and dozed off to the gentle hum of the engine and dreamed of Tudorville. She saw herself riding hard on the Great North Road; the old Roman road that ran parallel to the one they were driving along now, five centuries into the future.
Chapter 19
Richmond, London - Present day
The Porsche pulled into the hotel car park on Richmond Hill, and Cara awoke with a start. ‘Goodness, we’re here already!’
‘Nice snooze?’ George asked.
‘Lovely. Thanks for driving us.’ Cara checked her appearance in the mirror and glanced at the time on the exquisite old clock face set into the sandy coloured brick of the hotel tower.
11:11, of course...we’ve arrived at the perfect time.
Sylvia told Cara that Twin Flames typically noticed many signs as their consciousness and intuition heightened. 11:11 was one of the most symbolic.
That afternoon, after they checked into the hotel, Cara was deep in research at The National Archives. She hadn’t yet found anything of interest related to the Cavendish name, even though it was a popular old surname. The further back she went, the records were unsurprisingly, either missing or illegible. She was just thinking she was wasting her time when a paper slipped out of a dusty binder, swooped through the air, and landed at her feet. She stooped to pick it up and then looked around—she had a peculiar feeling she wasn’t alone, but she couldn’t see anyone else in the silent room.
Cavendish, George Oliver, died...
She blinked, disorientated. Cara scanned the paper for the date of George’s death, feeling sick, her throat dry and her head bashing. George was right, it would be terrifying to see the reality of his death. But she was certain there had been numbers on the paper before she’d been able to make out the figures—they had disappeared before her eyes.
I shouldn’t have come. This was a dreadful mistake.
She concluded she must be imagining things and went to put the document back, but as she clutched the paper, still looking at it, a new set of numbers slowly appeared, one by one, filling the blank space. Cara blinked and shook her head.
What the hell...
A new date formed on the paper. She stared at the shifting form of the digits, transfixed; her heart drumming in her tight chest, unable to catch her breath as the numbers 1 5 3 and then 7 appeared in a faded black ink.
George would die next year in Tudorville.
Cara let out a strangled scream, and the paper slipped from her fingers, fluttered through the air, and landed on the hard floor near where she had retrieved it. She leaned heavily against the wall, shaking, and stayed there for a few minutes.
Cara took a couple of deep breaths and then raised her head. Her eyes locked onto a pair of bright blue ones. A man stared at her from across the cold room. She hadn’t heard him enter.
She would leave now—this place was spooky—she should never have come. She shivered, and a feeling of sheer terror spiralled through her body.
Who was he and where had he appeared from?
