‘Stop!’ cried Selby.

  Ophelia didn’t seem to hear her.

  Selby ran up the bank, but she slipped on the mud and fell into the river. The water was only a couple of feet deep. Selby pulled herself up and started to wade out to Ophelia.

  ‘Stop!’ Selby yelled again.

  But Ophelia was wading in deeper. She was up to her chest.

  Selby realised she was not going to get there before Ophelia got caught in the current, but she could also see that the current would bring Ophelia towards her. So instead of continuing up the bank, Selby waded out into the deeper water to be ready to intercept her.

  Ophelia suddenly lost her footing and was pulled into the current. She disappeared below the water for one heart-stopping moment before her head bobbed up and she gasped for breath, but the river had caught hold of her and she went under again.

  Selby desperately waded in deeper, praying she was far enough out to catch Ophelia as she came towards her. If she couldn’t catch hold of her, Ophelia would be swept away downstream. The current was strong. It was a struggle to stay upright and Selby was only waist deep.

  All the things Selby had ever learned in water rescue at school started rattling through her mind. Don’t let a drowning person grab you. Grab them from behind or they’ll pull you under and you’ll both drown.

  Ophelia was drawing towards her swiftly. The eddies of the water kept pulling her under. Selby reached out. But she wasn’t going to catch her. She wasn’t out far enough. Selby pushed off from the bottom of the river and swam out deeper. She was out of her depth and into the current herself. Selby stretched right out.

  She saw Ophelia’s face under the water. Her eyes were open. She was still alive. But she made no attempt to save herself. Selby grabbed hold of Ophelia’s dress by the shoulder, then rolled onto her own back, pulling Ophelia up on top of her chest and drawing her face up above the water. Ophelia instinctively gasped for breath. Selby slid her arm under Ophelia’s armpits and lay back to get as buoyant as possible before she started to swim sidestroke towards to the bank.

  It was really hard. Ophelia didn’t help at all, and they were both fully clothed. Ophelia’s long dress was like an anchor. The water pulled at it, making it hard for Selby to hold on to her. But Selby’s swimming instruction was in her mind. Don’t swim against the current. Swim across it. It was painfully slow, and exhausting, but Selby knew they were making progress towards the bank even as they swept further and further downstream. Gradually, they were edging closer to dry land.

  After what felt like an age, Selby realised she was able to stand up. Ophelia was almost swept out of her arms by the current when she did. But she hung on, and slowly dragged Ophelia to the bank. When Selby finally pulled them both up on to the shore they were totally bedraggled, mud-smeared and drenched.

  ‘Are you okay?’ asked Selby.

  ‘My father is dead,’ muttered Ophelia.

  ‘I know,’ said Selby. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Go to thy deathbed,’ Ophelia half sang, ‘he never will come again.’ In her high-pitched, childlike voice, it sounded like a nursery rhyme from a nightmare. But the devastation in Ophelia’s face was too real to trivialise.

  ‘I know you feel terrible now,’ said Selby. ‘I know you are in a lot of pain, and you can’t imagine ever feeling better. But I promise you, you will.’

  Ophelia didn’t say anything. She just stared back with vacant eyes. Selby got the sense she was disappointed to have been rescued. She felt terrible for this poor girl, but there was no doubt in her mind that she had done the right thing.

  ‘Now let’s just get through the next ten minutes,’ said Selby. Ophelia obviously wasn’t capable of having a conversation. That was okay. Selby would talk for both of them. It was as much for her own benefit – she needed to reassure herself. ‘We are going to get up and walk back to where you went into the river. From there, I’m going to find my way back to the portal. Then I’m going to find someone who can help you. All you have to do is come with me on a walk for ten minutes. I’m going to take you somewhere where there will be help.’

  ‘He is gone, he is gone,’ mumbled Ophelia. ‘And we cast away moan, God-a-mercy on his soul.’

  ‘I know,’ said Selby. ‘It’s terrible. But you can do this. Just walk with me a little way.’

  Selby helped Ophelia up. Ophelia was actually steadier on her legs than Selby was herself, because she hadn’t done any swimming. Selby took Ophelia by the arm and started walking with her up the riverbank.

  ‘And in his grave rained many a tear,’ said Ophelia. ‘Fare you well, my dove.’

  Selby did not know what to say to this poor, distraught girl, but she felt she had to say something. ‘When my friend Dan’s mum died, he was very sad,’ said Selby. ‘I can’t imagine what he felt. But he used to come to the bookstore every day and look at books. He’d pick one out and go home and read it. Then be back the next day for another book. I think they were a comfort to him. A book can be a way of taking a holiday from yourself, stepping into someone else’s shoes. At least that’s what they say. I don’t read much myself. I find it hard to focus on the words. But I like stories. Where I come from, we have stories acted out for us, like the plays you watch, only ours are in these boxes we have in our homes called televisions.’

  Ophelia glanced at her.

  ‘Anyway, stories are comforting when you are sad,’ said Selby. ‘I know a place with lots of books. You might like it. Also, we have counsellors and doctors who can help people who are so sad that their minds get confused. Let me help you. Things will get better eventually. I promise.’

  15

  Criss Cross

  Getting Ophelia all the way back to the castle was not easy and it took some time, but people stayed out of their way. Anyone they came across veered away at the sight of Ophelia. It was almost as if they feared grief and mental illness like it was a contagious disease. When they got back to the portal, Selby carefully reached out to check if she could still pass through. The wall felt like it was buzzing or vibrating.

  ‘Come on,’ said Selby. She wrapped her arm Ophelia’s shoulders and lead her towards the garden wall where Selby had arrived only an hour earlier.

  Ophelia understandably baulked at walking straight into brickwork.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Selby assured her. ‘Close your eyes. Trust me. I’m taking you somewhere better.’

  Ophelia did as she was told. She always did. Being so obedient was a big part of her problem. In this case, hopefully, it actually would be for her own best interest. Ophelia closed her eyes and stepped forward as Selby guided her, and soon they were passing through the garden wall and falling into the wind of words . . .

  CLAUDIUS

  Revenge should have no bounds.

  But, good Laertes,

  Will you do this, keep close within your chamber.

  Hamlet, returned, shall know you are come home . . .

  Moments later, Selby found herself collapsing on the floor of the bookstore. Dan wrapped her shoulders in a towel. She looked up. He really was unreasonably tall.

  ‘You thought to get towels?’ she said, rolling over and sitting up.

  ‘I figured you’d both be wet,’ said Dan.

  Selby saw that he had already wrapped Ophelia in a big fluffy bathrobe. She looked so young here, out of her natural context. Ophelia was staring at Dan in wonder.

  ‘You sent for me?’ she asked.

  ‘No. Now don’t you get any ideas,’ said Selby firmly. ‘Dan cannot marry you. Because . . .’

  She looked at Dan to see if he could think of a good excuse.

  ‘Because . . . I am already pledged to another,’ said Dan.

  ‘Okay, I guess that will work,’ said Selby. She turned to Ophelia, ‘Look I don’t think you’re in a good headspace to get into another relationship right now. Have you heard about rebound relationships?’

  ‘No,’ said Ophelia.

  ‘Well that’s what Dan would be,’ said Selby. ‘He seems really good because he’s tall and his face is all symmetrical and all that superficial stuff girls go for. But, really, you’re mainly attracted to him because he’s not Hamlet.’

  ‘I do protest these harsh words!’ said Hamlet, coming over to see what was going on. He was surprised to see his ex-girlfriend. ‘Ophelia! Prithee tell me, what devilry brings her hither?’

  ‘You, behave!’ Selby snapped at Hamlet. ‘I’m only speaking the truth. After time with you, any guy who doesn’t berate her and tell her to become a nun is going to look pretty good.’

  ‘She is really going to struggle here in the modern world,’ said Dan.

  ‘I agree,’ said Selby. ‘Can we put her into another book? Somewhere where men are more polite. She’s always been controlled by the men in her life – her father, her brother and Hamlet. I don’t think she needs the social workers and the counsellors we have here now. I think it would be good for her to spend some time with girls her own age.’

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Dan.

  ‘What?’ said Selby.

  ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ said Dan.

  ‘The book?’ asked Selby.

  ‘Yes,’ said Dan. ‘It’s full of young women, loving sisters. If we put in another one, no-one will notice.’

  ‘You reckon?’ asked Selby.

  ‘Sure,’ said Dan. ‘A couple of them are hysterical and crazy for men in uniform. Ophelia will fit in. And the older sisters Elizabeth and Jane are sensible and kind. They’ll look after her.’

  ‘But would they agree to it?’ asked Selby.

  ‘Elizabeth will,’ said Dan. ‘She’s got a good sense of humour.’

  ‘I guess it’s no crazier than leaving her here,’ said Selby. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Dan found a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the shelf and handed it to Selby to read.

  ‘Read it out loud,’ urged Dan.

  ‘Will it work with another book?’ asked Selby, suddenly hit with a wave of self-doubt.

  ‘There’s one way to find out,’ said Dan.

  Selby looked down at the first page of the first chapter and started reading the words out loud. She reached out without looking and grabbed Dan’s hand. He took hold of Ophelia’s. They all started to tumble forward into the words.

  It is a truth universally acknowledged,

  that a single man in possession of a good fortune,

  must be in want of a wife.

  However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be

  on his first entering a neighbourhood,

  this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families,

  that he is . . .

  Selby felt herself tumbling over and over until suddenly – she was lying flat on her back in the long grass, looking up at a bright blue sky. There were wildflowers amongst the grass – primroses and daisies. She could hear bees buzzing about and, some distance off, a cow lowing.

  Selby sat up. She was in the middle of a field. Across the valley was a beautiful patchwork of hedge lined fields, neatly framed against the rolling hills. The sun was starting to dip in the sky. It was late afternoon. The countryside felt drowsy with the warm sunshine. A patch of daffodils caught Selby’s eye. She didn’t think she had ever seen anything so yellow. It was as if the sunshine had been captured and transformed into a flower.

  ‘Run!’ cried Dan.

  Selby turned to see Dan sprinting towards her, carrying Ophelia in his arms. Selby was confused for one moment, until she saw why Dan was running. There was an angry bull galloping at full speed towards him. Selby leapt up and took off running too. The three of them only just got to the field’s gate in time to throw themselves over before the bull angrily smashed his forehead into the timberwork.

  ‘That was a close call,’ said Dan.

  ‘After all the sword play and death threats,’ said Selby. ‘It would be very anti-climactic to be killed by a cow.’

  ‘You saved me,’ Ophelia said to Dan. She didn’t seem particularly grateful, more confused.

  ‘I promised you things were going to get better,’ Selby told her. ‘Hopefully that’s the last traumatic event for you for a while.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Dan. ‘That must be Longbourn.’ He pointed to a large and lovely house on the far side of the valley. ‘Let’s go and introduce ourselves.’

  They were walking up the driveway to the main house when, from a side path, a woman climbed over a stile. When she looked up, she was surprised to see them.

  ‘Good day,’ said the young woman politely, which was gracious of her because Selby and Ophelia must have looked strange to her in their clothing, and Dan must have been the first person of colour she had ever seen. She probably assumed they were gypsies.

  ‘Are you Miss Bennet?’ asked Dan.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet, sir, although I am quite sure we have not been introduced,’ said Elizabeth. Selby looked at her closely. Elizabeth was pretty, except for her eyes – they were something more – beautiful and intelligent, with humour behind them. ‘Who, pray tell, are you?’

  ‘Well, this is going to sound crazy,’ said Selby. ‘But we are time travellers from the future.’

  ‘Except for her,’ said Dan, pointing at Ophelia. ‘She’s from the past.’

  ‘We need help,’ said Selby. ‘This girl’s father has recently died. And she has been very badly treated.’ Ophelia was not listening. She had bent down to pick wildflowers near her feet. ‘She has no-one to look after her. No-one with her best interests at heart.’

  Elizabeth frowned. ‘You had better come in and have a cup of tea, so we can hear all about it.’

  Half an hour later, Selby, Dan and Ophelia were sitting in the drawing room at Longbourn, having explained the situation to Elizabeth and Jane Bennet over a cup of tea.

  ‘The poor girl,’ said Jane. ‘We must help her.’

  ‘Yes, she must stay here with us,’ agreed Elizabeth. ‘She can’t be as foolish as Lydia, or indeed Mary. She won’t be any trouble.’

  ‘But what shall we tell the neighbours?’ asked Jane.

  ‘We’ll simply say she is a second cousin, come to visit,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Dear Mama has so many cousins that will be very easy to believe.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ agreed Jane. ‘But Ophelia is such an unusual name.’

  ‘You could give her a new name,’ suggested Selby. ‘It might be nice for her to have a fresh start with a new identity.’

  ‘Is there a name you like the sound of, my dear?’ Jane asked kindly.

  Ophelia looked up. She was confused by the question.

  ‘If we are to give you a new name,’ pressed Jane, ‘is there one in particular that you like?’

  ‘Katherine,’ said Ophelia. ‘T’was my mother’s name.’

  ‘And it is a lovely one,’ said Elizabeth. ‘It will suit you very well. We’ll tell everyone you’re Katherine, Kitty for short. And that you’ve come for a long stay.’

  ‘That should work splendidly,’ said Jane.

  ‘Your parents won’t mind?’ asked Dan.

  ‘Mama will be glad of another girl to fuss over,’ said Elizabeth. ‘And Papa will be persuaded. Five silly girls will be much the same as four to him.’

  ‘I’m to live here, in this magnificent house?’ asked Ophelia.

  ‘If you want to,’ said Selby. ‘It’s not safe for you to go home now your father is gone. Do you like it here?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ophelia, looking out at the spring garden. ‘I like the flowers.’

  And so, it was decided. Selby and Dan left Ophelia in the chronicles of the Bennet family. Ophelia was a little bit weepy when she realised they were leaving her, but then Lydia, the youngest Bennet sister, bustled in with all the gossip from the village. She started showing her new ‘cousin’ the ribbons she had bought to dress her hat and Ophelia was soon distracted.

  ‘We should go,’ said Dan.

  ‘It’s like leaving a child at preschool for the first time,’ said Selby. ‘You wait until they’re distracted then sneak away. Do you think she’ll be okay?’

  ‘She’ll be better off,’ said Dan. ‘If you hadn’t gone back for her, she’d be dead.’

  It was a sobering thought. Ophelia didn’t look happy or even particularly stable, but she was alive. She had a chance.

  Selby and Dan walked back across the valley to where they had arrived. The bull was distracted by his dinner at the far side of the field. It was easy to find the exact spot because the wild flowers were still crushed where they had landed.

  Dan held out a copy of Pride and Prejudice to her. ‘Read us home.’

  Selby looked at the page and started to read . . .

  You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy,

  to fall in love merely because you are warned against it;

  and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly.

  Seriously I would have you be on your guard . . .

  Selby and Dan were soon flat on their backs in the bookstore again.

  ‘What is it with you two and lying on the floor?’ demanded Mum. ‘Is there something I need to know? Do you have an inner-ear infection? Are you suffering from low blood pressure?’

  ‘We were just reading,’ said Selby, getting to her feet.

  ‘That’s almost as unnerving,’ said Mum.

  ‘You wanted me to read more,’ said Selby.

  ‘I didn’t know it was going to overpower you and you’d lose the ability to stand,’ said Mum. She turned on Dan and glowered at him suspiciously. ‘I certainly expected better from you.’

  ‘Sorry, Mrs Michaels,’ said Dan.

  ‘Humpf,’ said Mum as she continued to the back of the shop.

  ‘We did the right thing, didn’t we?’ Selby asked Dan. ‘I feel like I just abandoned a puppy on someone’s doorstep.’