“I know he’s here. He’s bound to have come after us. Where is he?”
Warren understood. “He’s the school guidance counsellor now. But what are you going to do? You can’t harm him.”
“I can try, look you. He has a blimmin’ body, and bodies have nerve endings!”
“You can’t be serious!”
During this harassed conversation they had both been scurrying down the lane towards the village, towards the school. Now that Warren had run out of protests, his Gran paused and seemed to doubt herself. She turned them both around and started to head back towards home.
“I don’t want to get arrested,” she mused, chewing her lip. “Someone my age wouldn’t do so well in prison for ABH. No… there has to be another way of showing him just exactly what I think.”
Warren saw the expression she fired at him and said, “I’m not going to get your revenge on him for you!”
The evening was still bright and golden-yellow. Bees hovered in flowers and a line of ravens soared overhead for a moment. They kept silent. Warren helped Gran into the house and into her armchair in the living room, only switching on the one light to see her by.
“I wonder if the harvest will be any better this year,” she said, as if nothing unusual had occurred.
“Gran? How can the Dark Rider be here, in the present? Isn’t him being here wrecking what happened in the past?”
“Oh, really. You read too many science-story novels,” Gran said, stretching her varicose-veined legs. “I’m not pregnant here, thank the Lord, but I was pregnant there and you don’t question that. The past and the future are separate things, separate creatures. Different species, if you like. Different species can’t breed.”
Nightwalks 