I woke up, my alarm clock blaring. It was 6:00am. My flight left in 4 hours. I would need to hurry. Clive was lying next to me, his arms wrapped around my stomach, legs tangled with mine, and his head buried into my hair. I smiled, and gently praised myself from his grip, trying not to wake him up. Though I doubt he would, because he slept right through my alarm clock.

I quietly got dressed, and grabbed my suitcase. I quickly scrawled Clive a note. It said:

Dear Clive,

Sorry I didn't wake you up before I left. You were sleeping so soundly! Like a baby. I don't know if I will be on my plane by the time you read this, but don't text me just in case. Mable is in, so she'll make you something to eat. Don't worry- she knows you're here! Sorry I won't be there for the grand opening of your "Future London", wish I was. Good luck with it by the way! Try not to do anything stupid like try to destroy London or something while I am away! See you in a 10 days!

Love you lots,

Amy x

Later on

I sat on the plane, biting my nails, wondering if Clive had woke up yet. The man next to me was reading a paper. I leaned forward, pretending to tie my shoe lace, but instead read the headline.

"Explosion at time machine demonstration!"

I gasped.

"Can I borrow your newspaper?" I asked the man. He nodded, and passed me the paper. I read the article and relaxed when I found out it wasn't meant to do with Clive's fake time machine in the clock shop. It was some man called Dr. Alain Stahngun had apparently made a working time machine. Bill Hawks have been the "hamster" and tested it in front of a group of people. The machine exploded and Dr. Stahngun and Bill Hawks have been missing since.

I passed the man back his newspaper.

"Thanks," I said. He smiled.

"It only happened this morning," He said, "Why did you want to read it?"

I said I lived near where it happened, and I thought my boyfriend may have got hurt.

"Nah, he'll be fine. A guy can't just go dying if he is as lucky to have a girl like you," He said.

I smiled. But still, something at the back of my mind was nagging at me. Trying to tell me something was wrong. I ignored it, and looked out the window at the clouds.

One of them looked like a top hat.

A few days later

The funeral was a quite one. Only mum was there. And me, of course. The priest babbled on about how dad will be sorely missed, how he was a great man. I had to stop myself jumping up and screaming,

"You didn't even know him, you have no idea what he is like!"

The whole time, I couldn't help thinking that something was going to go dreadfully wrong.