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hard.
    For a moment she studied a robin that was busy pecking at the pork pie crumbs. Then she went back to telling her story again. “But as yea can imagine, Saul, Father had asked for patience too many times. Duncan was losing faith in him and his hocus-pocus schemes. When last my uncle came by, their talk got quite heated and Duncan flew off the handle. They sent me to my chamber to practice my handwriting. But I heard Father when he was left, howling in sorrow.”
    “Poor Albert,” I said for the umpteenth time. I couldn’t think what else to say, but saw the next sentence of my essay in my head.
    Handwriting was a great skill. Not like now when we use computers.
    “Aye. Hapless indeed,” she went on. “I wrote in my chamber of how sorry I felt for him, then went down to him in the parlour later. He was smoking his pipe and gazing forlornly into the flames of the fire. I said,‘Dinna fret, Father. I believe in yea,’ and he took me by the hand and peered intently into my eyes. ‘Child, is it true yea believe in me?’ I nodded, because you see he is my father. A child must honour their parents. Father seemed on the verge of tears. He tightened the grip on my hand and said, ‘Agatha, my bonny, precious lass, I wish for yea to help me.’ I nodded my head, agreeing without knowing what I was agreeing to. He lowered his voice. ‘I am no’ like the others,’ he whispered. ‘My particular course to greatness doesna lie in following the customary path.’ I nodded again, to encourage him. Dear Father looked so sad, so beaten. Duncan truly can belittle a person. In that moment I fervently wished for my father to succeed in something. ‘It is like this, lass,’ he said, dropping his voice still quieter. ‘My true interests lie in things of a more metaphysical and mysterious nature.’”
    Agatha paused. She could see I was confused. “He meant, Saul, that his work was no ordinary, everyday pastime. His talent lay in matters of the unseen spirit. The occult. Do yea follow?”
    I nodded, not wanting to look like an idiot. “Go on!” It was quarter to three. I would have to leave soon.
    “‘Time,’ Father explained to me, ‘is the true mystery of existence. Not medicine, not music, but time.’ By now, Saul, I was caught up in father’s enthusiasm. Gone was the defeated look in his dark eyes. I watched in amazement. He appeared no longer the failed man but the glorious hero, famed throughout history. ‘I am studying the mysterious nature of time travel,’ he confided to me in a hushed voice. Lo! I knew notwhat to reply. I no longer understood him. But he carried on regardless. ‘Aye, dear child – I wish to break doon the doors of time. I have already successfully conducted out-of-body travel, but…’ At this he studied his stomach, which is quite large and round. He patted his waistcoat. ‘I am too portly,’ he said.”
    I laughed, thinking of the pillow up my hoodie. I really had to go. I loved Agatha’s story and I loved the way she told it, true or not, but I was on A Mission of Trust. “Hold it there, Agatha,” I said, jumping to my feet, “I really want to hear more, but I have to go. I’m in big trouble if I’m late. Here’s my sleeping bag – it’s a proper down one so it’ll keep you really warm. Here’s a pillow. And there’s more food in the bag. You can stay in my den and if anybody comes snooping around just make out like you’re a ghost.”
    “Perhaps I am,” Agatha said, hanging her head, “perhaps indeed I am a lost ghost.”
    She was freaking me out again. I took a step back. “Agatha. Should I go and get a grown up? Should I get the police, see if they can help you? Or the social workers?”
    Agatha shook her head so her ringlets swung. “No, Saul,” she said. “Yea were the first person I saw, the first person I touched in this time. I lost the thread to 1812 and fastened to yea. That means we are bound together. I think it is only yea who can help me