The Time Bubble Box Set 2, стр. 278
I caught a bus into town which was packed with revellersheading out to celebrate New Year. This was one year I certainly wouldn’t becelebrating.
My biggest worry now was CCTV. I had seen plenty of TVdramas where people had been tracked by it and I was in the centre of a bigcity, after all. My best bet was to change outfits so I headed into Debenhams,went up and down in the lift a couple of times, wandered around all over theshop and then bought a hat, scarf and new hoodie.
I took these into the toilets and changed, stuffing my oldclothes into a bag with the intention of disposing of them later. Emerging fromthe toilets, head bowed, I hoped I had done enough to evade any attempts totrack me.
Suitably disguised, I now headed straight for Oxfordstation, stuffing the carrier bag that now contained my old clothes into alitter bin en route. I really hoped that there would still be some trainsrunning, bearing in mind it was almost 7pm now on New Year’s Eve. Thanks to itbeing a normal working weekday there were still a few.
Scanning the boards I decided to avoid London and theobvious big cities and instead bought a ticket for the next train departing,bound for Hereford. That sounded like a suitably anonymous sort of place tohide out for a day or two.
I sat alone on the quiet train, as far away from otherpeople as possible. I must have had a guilty conscience because I kept imaginingthat everybody who walked past was looking at me accusingly, branding me amurderer with their eyes. I kept my head down, keen to hide my face, not evenlooking up when the guard came to clip my ticket.
What if they had managed to track me on CCTV all the way toOxford station and had seen me getting on the train? Would they be waiting toarrest me at Hereford station?
I was getting a bit paranoid. I clearly wasn’t thinkingstraight, as it was highly unlikely anyone would be looking for me so soon. Evenso, I convinced myself that going to Hereford was too risky so I decided to getoff the train at the next stop, which was at Evesham.
It was dark, wet and cold and all I wanted was a room forthe night. With no phone, I had no way of finding out what was available, sojust had to walk through the town until I found somewhere.
There was a large hotel opposite the station but I ignoredthat. My experience was that these sorts of places rarely took bookings incash, and even if they did would want some sort of ID.
I needed something more anonymous like a small familyB&B or a pub. I didn’t rate my chances of finding either at this time ofnight and at this time of the year. It was hardly tourist season. But if Ididn’t find something soon I might face the unwelcome prospect of spending thenight outside.
I ran through the options in my head. If I had been totallydesperate, I could have gone to a pub, pulled some random bloke and then lethim take me home for the night. But there was no way I was going to do that. Inmy mind, it was bordering on prostitution.
The mere fact I had even considered it as a possibility wasbad enough. Had I really sunk that low – sex just to get a bed for the night?Hadn’t I slagged about enough already today? What the hell was I turning into?
No, there was no way I was lowering myself to that level. Iwould rather freeze outside. Was it to come to that? Was I about to experiencewhat it was like to be a homeless person in the middle of winter? Well, if Iwas, it was no more than I deserved, quite frankly.
I couldn’t find anywhere in town that fitted my needs so Idecided to just find a pub where I could at least be warm and have a drink.Even that proved problematical, as many of them had private parties on for NewYear and were ticket only.
Eventually I found a nice old-fashioned boozer down the farend of the town with no entry restrictions. It was packed with locals enjoyinga karaoke night.
Safely In the warm at last, even if it was only temporary, Igot a couple of double vodkas inside me and then asked the landlord if he knewof any nearby hotels, neatly blaming why I was stranded in Evesham on abroken-down car. It was a plausible enough excuse, but it was lying, of course,something I else I frowned upon but was now being reduced to.
Fortunately I was in luck. The pub had rooms which theyoccasionally let out upstairs and they agreed to let me stay the night, cashupfront, with no need for any ID. All they did was ask me my name, to which Ireplied with the first thing that came into my head: Helen. Another lie!
It was a great relief knowing I wouldn’t have to sleepoutside, not that I got a lot of sleeping done. I spent most of the nighttossing and turning, racked with remorse for the events of the previous day.
Now it was the following morning, and I was still up in theroom, trying to work out how to get through this last day before I moved on.Accommodation wouldn’t be as big a problem tonight because I’d be jumping backin time at 3am, so I could probably stay up until that time, even if I did haveto spend a couple of hours outside after the pubs shut.
I had planned to slip away from the pub quietly but my hostsinsisted on giving me breakfast, which was very kind. Both they and the localsthe previous evening had been very welcoming towards me. Their hospitality hadgot me through a difficult time and I could now face the day ahead with renewedstrength.
Before I left I did have one