In Bed With Lord Byron

broadsheet. How
fickle. Then I saw the headline:
    THATCHER DEFIANT OF IRA
. My eyes flicked to the date:
13 October 1984
. My stomach lurched, and that feeling of unease returned.
    Peter returned, along with Jagabhandu, who was carrying a tray. Adam followed behind, proudly bearing a little silver sugar bowl as though it was the Shiva Lingum.
    Then Marie came back downstairs. I noticed her red eyes but pretended not to. I was keen to escape, but I felt compelled to ask the question that was nagging away at me.
    ‘Um, what’s your surname, by the way? You never mentioned it to me.’
    ‘Brown. I’m Marie Brown.’ She grimaced. ‘I was Marie DeLillo before I married.’
    Oh God. It couldn’t be a coincidence. It couldn’t.
    ‘And your son is Tony Brown. Anthony Brown,’ I said. ‘What’s his middle name?’ She gave me a weird look and I blundered, ‘Sorry – I just – I have
this thing about names and their meanings. I mean, take Anthony. Did you know it means “worthy of praise”? I, ah, just happened to know that.’
    ‘His name is Anthony Lewis Brown. Now there’s a funny story.’ She finally managed a smile. ‘Peter and I had a bit of a fight over his name. Peter wanted Lewis, I wanted
Anthony. In the end we tossed a coin.’
    She paused, frowning at me when I didn’t laugh. I quickly feigned amusement, trying to conceal my stunned shock.
    A second later there was a scream from upstairs, and Marie hurried off. Adam, meanwhile, retreated to the kitchen with Jagabhandu as though keen to take cover.
    ‘Lucy,’ I heard Peter saying in the background, ‘I know you’ll be leaving India any day now and I just want to say . . . I just want to say I’m going to miss you
when you’re gone.’
    I couldn’t quite hear him. My head was spinning. So that
brat
– that boy who had chucked water over me and was now upstairs throwing a tantrum – was the man who in 2005
cooked me beautiful meals and massaged my feet before bedtime.
    ‘Oh, Lucy.’ Suddenly I became aware that Peter was sitting right next to me, his eyes full of longing. I realised I was in a very dangerous situation. The father of my ex-boyfriend
was making advances towards me nineteen years before I would even meet the said boyfriend, something that would surely cement their divorce and ruin their lives for ever.
    ‘Lucy . . . ’
    ‘Well, he’s settled down,’ Marie said, entering the room. She took one look at us – at the way Peter was leaning in on me, at the sweep of his arm around the back of my
chair – and went white. ‘Lucy,’ she said, through clenched teeth, ‘I think it’s time for you to go home.’
    I stood up quickly, my face flaming.
    ‘Sure. Adam,’ I called weakly. ‘Adam, it’s time to go.’
    ‘Marie!’ Peter suddenly said sharply. ‘Just what do you think you’re doing, throwing our guest out at this time of night?’
    ‘What do you think
you’re
doing, flirting with her right under my nose?’
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    I quickly sidled out, grabbing Adam’s hand and making a run for it before I could cause any more trouble.
    A few streets away, I found myself stopping short. A rickshaw driver spotted us and waved eagerly, but I shook my head.
    ‘Auntie Lucy, what is it?’ Adam asked.
    ‘Maybe I should go back and explain,’ I said, my mind spinning hotly. ‘I mean – she’s going to walk out any day now. Anthony told me she left when he was ten. What
if I’ve put the final nail in their coffin? I mean, surely that’s why we ended up here? It can’t be an accident – I’ve got to do something.’
    Adam looked utterly bewildered. I opened my mouth to explain, and then closed it. I felt he had enough to deal with right now without knowing we were back in 1984, which was actually a good
fifteen years before he’d even been born.
    Suddenly I wheeled round and turned back to the house.
    ‘Where’re we going?’ Adam cried.
    I ignored him, tugging him after me. He kicked up a fuss, and I put a finger to his lips and said, ‘Look, we’ve got to pretend to be spies, OK? You’re James Bond, and I’m
– I’m, um, Lara Croft with a slightly flatter chest, and we have to creep up
very
quietly now.’
    Adam immediately stopped grumbling and looked thrilled. We walked slowly, my footsteps dragging in my uncertainty as to what I should do. Maybe I should just ask to speak to Marie alone and
explain everything . . .
    I heard Marie’s voice outside