Anna Peregrine--A Map of Days

Chapter One

I stood in Jacob's house amazed that we were all actually here, in the modern world, together.

There was Enoch, laying on Jacob's couch, drinking something from a large cup. Olive, who had unstrapped her shoes and was hanging out on the ceiling, taking rides on the swirling fan. Horace and Hugh were both in the kitchen, Horace looking at photographs whilst Hugh was looking for a snack. Claire was staring at my boyfriend's television, Millard who was going through magazines by the coffee table, and Emma, who was pulling on my arm the whole time, excited that we were finally here.

I turned to Jacob to find him spacing out, "Jacob?"

He didn't respond, so I started snapping at him. He got startled and came back, "Hey. Sorry."

"Where'd you go?" I asked with a chuckle.

"I'm just--It's good to see you, that's all."

"I know it must be awfully strange for you, all of us dropping in like this. I hope we didn't shock you too badly."

"No, no. Well, maybe a little."

"Are you sure I'm not?" Emma said. "I can't tell you how many times, over the years, I've pictured myself visiting this little town."

I gave her a small smile, she was talking about when Abe lived in this very same town. The sadness was washed away by Mum blowing into the room like a cyclone, "Olive, come down from there! Enoch, remove your feet from the sofa! Mr. Portman, there are matters which require your attention."

I grabbed his arm and started going with him to the kitchen as Enoch said, "Off to snog each other already? We only just arrived!"

I watched as Emma went to singe the top of his hair making both me and Jacob laugh. We entered the kitchen to find Hugh and Mum talking to each other by the open fridge. It started to occur to me how much we all looked out of place here. The only one that looked like they fit in was me, and that was thanks to my clothes being somewhat like the 1940s, but also more modern, especially because of my blue pants.

"But there's only strange food here, and I haven't eaten for centuries!" Hugh said.

"Don't exaggerate, Hugh," Mum said.

"I'm not. It's 1886 in Devil's Acre, and that's where we had breakfast--"

"I spent almost fifty pounds getting you guys food at the airport, what are you talking about?" I said as Horace walked out of a walk-in pantry.

"I have completed my inventory and am frankly shocked," he said. "One sack of baking soda, one tin of sardines in salt, and one box of weevil-infested biscuit mix. Is the government rationing his food? Is there a war on?"

"We eat a lot of takeout," Jacob said, walking over to him. "My parents don't really cook."

"Then why do they have this whomping great kitchen? I may be an accomplished chef de cuisine, but I can't make something from nothing."

"Surely you won't perish of hunger in the next five minutes," Mum said, shooing the two boys away. "Now, then. You were looking a bit wobbly earlier, Mr. Portman. Are you feeling all right?"

"Better every minute," he answered.

"You may be suffering from a touch of loop lag. Somewhat delayed in your case. It's absolutely normal among time travelers, especially those who are new to it," Mum started to move around the kitchen, looking into every cabinet. "The symptoms are usually inconsequential, though not always. How long have you been feeling dizzy?"

"Only since you all got here. But really, I'm fine--"

"What about leaking ulcers, bunion clusters, or migraine headaches?"