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knew exactly what had happened. I simply knew. And I also knew that there must be some mistake.
    I’d landed in another time.
    Not Charlotte. Me. Someone or other had gotten the whole thing wrong.
    My teeth immediately began chattering. Not just from nerves but with cold as well. There was a bitter chill in the air.
    I’d know what to do . Charlotte’s words were still echoing in my ears.
    Of course Charlotte would have known what to do. But no one had told me.
    So I stood there shivering, teeth chattering, at the corner of my own street while people gaped at me. Not that there were many of them out and about. A young woman in an ankle-length coat with a basket over her arm passed me, and behind her came a man in a hat with his collar turned up.
    “Excuse me,” I said. “Can you by any chance tell me what year this is?”
    The woman acted as if she hadn’t heard me and walked faster.
    The man shook his head. “What impertinence!” he growled.
    I sighed. Although the information wouldn’t really have helped me much anyway. Basically it didn’t make much difference whether this was 1899 or 1923.
    At least I knew where I was. I lived less than a hundred yards away. The obvious thing was just to go inside my house.
    I had to do something, after all.
    The street seemed calm and peaceful in the twilight as I slowly walked back, looking all around me. What was different, what hadn’t changed? The buildings looked very like those of my own time, even on closer examination. I did have the feeling that I’d not seen certain details before, but perhaps it was just that so far I hadn’t noticed them. Automatically I glanced at number 18, but the entrance to it was empty—no man in black anywhere in sight.
    I stopped.
    Our house looked just as it did in my own time. The windows on the ground floor and the first floor were brightly lit, and there was a light on in Mum’s room up at the top of the house as well. I felt really homesick as I looked up. Icicles hung from the dormer windows.
    I’d know what to do.
    So what would Charlotte do? It would soon be dark, and it was already bitterly cold. Where would Charlotte go to keep from freezing? Home?
    I stared up at the windows. Maybe my grandfather was still alive in there. Maybe he’d even recognize me? After all, he used to let me ride on his knees when I was little.… Oh, don’t be so stupid, I thought.
    Even if he were alive now, he could hardly recognize me when he hadn’t met me yet.
    The cold was creeping in under Mum’s raincoat. Okay, I’d just ring the bell and ask for shelter for the night.
    The only question was how to go about it.
    “Hello, my name is Gwyneth, and I’m Lord Lucas Montrose’s granddaughter, but he may not have been born yet.”
    I couldn’t expect anyone to believe that. I’d probably find myself in a psychiatric hospital much sooner than I liked. And psychiatric hospitals were probably dismal places at this period. Once inside, you might never get out again.
    On the other hand, I had few alternatives. It wouldn’t be long before it was pitch-dark, and I had to spend the night somewhere without freezing to death. Or being spotted by Jack the Ripper. Why couldn’t I remember when Jack the Ripper had prowled the streets of London? And where? Surely not the elegant surroundings of Mayfair, I hoped.
    If I did manage to speak to one of my ancestors, I might be able to convince him that I knew more about the family and the house than any normal stranger could. Who but me, for instance, could say straight off that the name of Great-great-great-great-great-uncle Hugh’s horse was Fat Annie?
    A gust of wind made me shiver. It was so cold. I wouldn’t have been surprised if snow soon swirled down on top of me.
    “Hello, I’m Gwyneth, and I come from the future. I can prove it—take a look at this zipper. I bet those haven’t been invented yet, right? Or jumbo jets or TV sets or refrigerators…”
    Well, it was worth a try. Taking a deep