Mistress of Time

Chapter 3

"It is just like a woman to be foolish. It is just like a man to encourage her."

-Andrew Hamilton in 'A Treatise on the Duties of the Female Sex' (1797)

The late May sunshine soaked London in a buttery light, turning the buildings into golden coins. Clara met the boys at the entrance to Knightsbridge tube station; Jack was leaning against the railing, whistling a cheery tune under his breath. Liam, on the other hand, looked like he was about to be sick in a bin. Clara raised an eyebrow.

"You okay, Pemberton?" she called.

He waved her off. "Dodgy salmon for breakfast."

She didn't believe him. Not for a second. "I thought you were vegetarian now."

"Pescatarian," Liam said.

Clara pressed a hand to her chest. "Fish are animals, too, Liam."

Liam muttered something that didn't sound particularly pleasant under his breath, starting for the stairs. The station was an anthill of chaos; they dodged around tourists carrying shopping bags and briefcase-wielding businessmen. Several people glared as they shouldered their way down the platform, stopping directly in front of an advert for whitening toothpaste. The billboard was so faded with age that the woman's teeth had, ironically, started to look a little yellow.

Liam moaned as the train rolled into view.

"I can't do it." He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Jack patted his back. "Let the salmon swim free."

Clara kicked his ankle. "Gross, Ogs."

They stepped into the last compartment. It was mostly empty, the only occupants being a woman carrying a dog and a man that bore an odd resemblance to a toad. Clara was still considering this when the tube passed through a station that was out of service. The artificial light cast a greenish tinge on the white stonewalls, making it look as if the entire station was underwater.

"Here we go," Liam muttered.

Clara had done this a million times before, but nothing quite prepared you for the strange sucking sensation of time slowing down. It felt like the entire world around you had turned gummy. The air became thicker, almost oppressive, and she felt her stomach lurch. Jack, who had never quite gotten over time travel sickness, looked a bit green as they exited the train. Clara paused on the platform, glancing over her shoulder as the train sped up and time compressed once more.

"Thank god," Jack said, with some feeling.

Clara hit the button on the lift. "You're such a baby."

"Easy, Eaton," Jack said. "I'm not the one that got sick in the taxi on our way home from the club last week."

And Clara, who could not deny it, remained silent.