Page 90 of The Uprising
Benjamin stepped to one side and beckoned for George to key in the code. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said, and quietly closed the door.
George pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket and flicked through the album, searching for the photo of the vault code which Kate had sent to him. He then handed the phone to Cara.
‘Please read it aloud to me. I don’t want to cock it up now,’ he said.
‘I’m nervous,’ she said.
‘It’s hard to believe it will actually be there after two hundred years,’ said George.
‘Okay, are you ready?’
He nodded.
‘1 1 8 8 8 7.’ She stressed each number before moving onto the next.
George carefully punched the digits into the keypad, and Cara waved her crossed fingers in the air. They heard the satisfying click of the vault unlocking and looked at each other. George reached out and pulled the door open to make sure it didn’t lock again by mistake.
Cara looked at him, her eyes wide. ‘Thank God. I can breathe again.’
‘Me too.’ George exhaled and then knelt down by the vault door. ‘Ready to see what’s inside?’
Cara dropped down next to him and he pulled the door wide, so they could both see the interior of the vault. The contents were brightly lit by an internal light which was activated when the door opened.
‘That looks like it could be the painting,’ said George. ‘I still don’t remember stashing it here.’
He extended his arm and touched the slim wrapped package. He held it gently, brought it out of the safe and then tentatively laid it on the table.
‘My heart’s beating like crazy,’ said Cara. ‘I can’t stand the suspense. Please open it.’
George unwrapped the faded layers of paper to reveal the top of a watercolour painting, and then eased it out. He sneezed as the dust from two centuries tickled his nostrils.
Cara gasped. ‘It’s actually worked. I can’t believe we’ve done it!’
The picture was coated in a film of dust but seemed in otherwise perfect condition.
‘I don’t know much about art, but it’s stunning,’ Cara said.
George put his arm around her shoulders and they stepped back to view the painting. He whistled. ‘Unbelievable. Two hundred years it’s been sitting here, and we knew nothing about it until recently.’
Cara looked at him. ‘Hmm.’
‘What,’ he said.
‘Well, yes and no. It was only here for two hundred years in the latest version of events. You rewrote history when you stored the painting and hid the key.’
George looked at her, pondered, and then said, ‘That’s true. And it looks as though we got away with it.’
‘I didn’t want to distract you when you were keying in the code, but those numbers are curiously significant.’
George raised an eyebrow and looked at her.
‘I remember the number eight from reading about numerology. It signifies infinity because it has no beginning or end. And I think three eights together like in the code, symbolise abundance,’ she said.
‘Woo! That’s twenty-five million pounds worth of abundance, all going to plan. Just from a little trip to Chelsea one fine and sunny Victoriana morning.’
Cara kissed him. All was right with their world. ‘Perhaps time travel isn’t that bad, after all.’
London, Five days later – Present day
