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As she did, her senses kicked into action. She could now see, hear, smell and feel her new surroundings. The immediate feeling seeping through the wet pavement to her stocking-clad knees was cold; freezing cold.
Stocking-clad knees? She hadn’t been wearing stockings; and freezing? It was May, for God’s sake!
    ‘Ee, Sarah, have you slipped on t’ice? Come on, love, give me your hand.’
    Sarah looked up at an outstretched hand, and beyond that, to a moon-faced man of around fifty-five years of age. How the hell did he know her, because she’d certainly never seen him before. He sported a trilby hat and a neat moustache, and wore a brown suit. His eyes were blue, sharp and at the moment full of concern for her.
    He waved his hand in front of her eyes. ‘’Ere, take my hand, love … You alright, Sarah? You look right pasty.’
    Having no better plan, Sarah allowed him to help her up. It was then that she became aware of what she was wearing. Flat brown lace-up shoes, a sage green, thick, knee-length dress with a round collar, a heavy, black winter coat, and a hat which appeared to be, she pulled down the brim, ah, yes, red. Sarah extended a finger and poked the frowning moon-face on the shoulder. He felt solid.
Not a hallucination then
. She pinched her wrist and winced. Moon-face peered at her more closely. ‘What’s up, love, eh?’
    Sarah looked around again at the busy scene.
Shit, this is all real then
! She gawped, slack-jawed, at him. Not only was she really here, in the past,
she
had a life to save. This was ‘way random and weird’ as the kids would say. No wonder Norman had bottled it.
    ‘So, do you feel able to walk, love? Take my arm; I think I’d better walk you ’ome.’
    Sarah looked at him and said, ‘Home … Sheffield?’
    ‘Of course. You don’t have an ’ome anywhere else do you? Now, I think you’ve had some kind of a turn. Hold on to Albert’s arm, yes that’s right. Just take a few deep breaths and we’ll trot on.’
    Sarah trotted on with Albert, along what she imagined was the High Street. She could just about recognise it, but most of the buildings they walked past were long gone in Sarah’s time. For a few moments she put her fears behind her and was entranced as she walked through the past. The history that she’d only read about and seen in photos lived and breathed all around her.
    The smell of wartime Sheffield amazed her most. As the main ‘steel city’, the smoke from the many factories and foundries lay heavy in the air. People passing in the street looked relatively clean, but had a mixture of odours emanating from them that were hardly Chanel. Mothballs fought with hair oil, stale sweat and nicotine for precedence. The number of people, young and old, smoking like chimneys, really shocked her. Even though she knew that the dangers of smoking were not yet known, it was still hard to take in.
    ‘So let’s ’ope Violet has made that bread she was on about, eh? I could do wi’ a cuppa and some nice bread and drippin’,’ Albert said, smacking his lips.
    ‘Violet?’ Sarah looked up at him.
    ‘Aye, Violet, yer auntie. Crikey, lass, you must ’ave bumped yer head. I think you need a nice lie-down after we get back.’
    Sarah realised that amnesia might be the best tack to take. That would account for her being totally bemused with the situation and would minimise suspicion. She glanced sidelong at Albert as he stopped and shook a cigarette from a packet. ‘Want one, duck?’
    ‘No, I don’t smoke thanks, Alb—’
    ‘Don’t smoke, and I’m a Dutchman!’ Albert chuckled, lighting up.
    Sarah wondered if he was somehow linked through time to Janet. He stuck out his arm and they set off again.
    As they walked, she figured the main thing she needed to do was to find out who she was, how Albert knew her and this auntie Violet woman, where
exactly
she was in time, and crucially, who she had to save. The sooner she did that, the sooner she could go back. Her