The months pass slowly, and Christmas is soon upon us. We are leaving Bradgate House to head further north. Catalina says we're heading for Ruffold Old Hall, which is currently unused. "I know the owners well," she says. "They have agreed to help us."
"I am glad," Mummy says, her voice faltering. We're moving much further from the capital.

Much further from Mum.

I take Mummy to one side before we start packing. "We will see Mum again," I say.
"Are you sure?" She asks. "I know we do, but it feels like a long time."
I nod and hug her. She hugs me back, and I breathe in her scent. It calms me, and my mind clears. "We will get through 1533 and see the New Year in."
"I know." Mummy lets me go, and I see tears in her eyes. "But..."
"We will try and rescue Mum when we are safe. Not yet."

We continue packing and preparing for the long journey ahead of us. Many of us are travelling much further north than we've ever gone before. "I've been to Aberdeen once," Mummy says, "a long time ago."
"For you, maybe."
Mummy nods. "It was 1976."
I remember this story well—the Doctor couldn't take Mummy to Gallifrey. Instead of dropping her back home, he dropped her off in Scotland! "How did you return home?"
"Your older self was in Dalbeattie and picked us up. She made a road trip out of it."

I smile at the thought. The 1970s was shortly before the wreck was—will be—found. Why is time travel so confusing? I shake the idea out of my head.

It will take us days to reach our destination. As we travel, we find ourselves setting up camp for the night. Anne and Jane head off with Mary and Henry to find wood for a campfire. Mummy and I are tying up the horses as they leave. Catalina is looking after Elizabeth. I look over at Mummy to see her looking at the two with a wistful look. "Are you all right?" I ask.
"I used to look at you like that when you were a baby." She sighs. "I guess I will never have another child now."
"You do not know that."
Mummy shakes her head. "I did some research on Edward Smith. He's going to marry Sarah Pennington in 1887 and have a daughter, Helen. We'll meet too late." Mummy's body sags, and tears pool in her eyes. "I'll never get another chance with him."
"What do you mean?"

Mummy unpacks the computer and opens the search engine before typing in Edward Smith. The first thing that comes up is Titanic's captain. Mummy goes to images and opens one. "This is him." She turns the computer, and I stare.
"My father is—? How? What?"
"Time travel," Mummy says.
"How is he a—what? You thought now would be a good time to tell me my father will die on the Titanic?!"
"I'm sorry, Emma. I should have—" I stand up before Mummy can finish speaking and walk away. I need to clear my head, and staying with Mummy will not give me that chance.

Our camp is slowly coming together, and we all sit around a campfire. "I am sure it is tradition to tell ghost stories around a campfire," I say.
"It might be in your time," Mary says. "But we can give it a go." We go around the group, each of us telling more ridiculous stories and trying to get one up from the others. Mummy tells us a story from when she visited Romania. "Is Romania around now?" Mary asks.
I get my computer out and search for it. "It doesn't exist until 1859."
Everyone bursts out laughing. It's one thing to mention technology or people that will not exist for hundreds of years, but a country is something else entirely.

We continue moving on towards Ruffold Old Hall and make it there on Christmas Eve. "I wrote ahead to the owners, so they stocked up on what we will need," Catalina says. "After Christmas, we should move closer to the Scottish border."
"Hang on, who put you in charge?" Anne asks.
"I am the queen." Catalina turns to us.
"So am I!"

Mummy groans. "Please, stop fighting!"
Everyone turns to her, and everyone has the same look of wonder on their faces. "What do you think?" Catalina asks, turning to Anne.
"I think it will work," Anne agrees.
"What are you talking about?" Mummy asks.

"We want you to lead us," Catalina says.
"What?"
Catalina looks around the group, and everyone else nods. I nod as well and turn to Mummy. "You used to do this all the time back home."
"But we aren't at home, and I'm completely out of my time. I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." I take Mummy's hands. "I believe in you."

Mummy looks at each of us before she squeezes my hands. "Can I think about it first?"
"Of course," Catalina says. "Tell us your decision in the morning."
Mummy nods and heads to our tent and settles down.

We start moving again at dawn, but Mummy hasn't told us what she's planning. If she is going to lead us, we need to know sooner rather than later.

We reach Ruffold Old Hall on Christmas Eve and begin settling in. It is a charming house built of black and white timber, and the gardens would be gorgeous come summer—but I know we will not be here to see it. As I am unpacking a few meagre belongings, I see Mummy talking with Catalina and Anne. She must've come to a decision. I shake my head when I realise I'm thinking as I used to when I was in the twenty-first century. Such language isn't — is not—allowed in this century. What would people think of me if I start talking like that?

I continue my way and begin talking to my fellow ladies-in-waiting. "This is an adventure," Maggie says. "I cannot wait to see where we go next."
"So long as it is not the Tower," Rocky says. "Most things I can cope with, but not that place."

I don't have the heart to tell her that she'll get executed there in 1542 if we fail. There is so much I don't want to tell my friends.

My mind wanders back to Mum, as it often does. Where is she? Had she escaped from the King? If so, is she trying to find us? We don't stay in one place for too long, so it'll be difficult for her to find us. I correct my language in my head. Maybe I will continue using language from the twenty-first century after all.

That evening, we all dine together. "I decided to accept the position," Mummy says.

So that's what she was talking about earlier! "Congratulations," I say.
"Things will be different now," she says. I look under the table to see she is fidgeting with her hands. "We still can't plan a rescue mission to save Ruby, and I barely know what we should do next."
"You have us to help," Catalina says. "I will write to James V today. If he lets us into Scotland, we will not have to keep running from Henry."

That is a major if. England and Scotland are enemies, so why would James V let a group of English women into his country?

Catalina hasn't written the letter yet, I remind myself. We must let her do that before we begin making any plans.

That evening, we all gather by the fireplace as Catalina begins writing the letter. She passes it around when she finishes so we can all read it. It gets to me, and I read it.

Your Majesty,

My name is Catalina Trastamara, and I am requesting asylum in your country. My husband, Henry VIII, wishes to kill me and the people travelling with me. We can no longer stay here and are too far from the sea. Even if we made it to the coast, we have no way to contact my cousin in Spain. King Henry would discover where we are and kill us all.

Please let us cross the border, and we will live peacefully in Scotland.

Yours Sincerely,

Catalina Trastamara

I don't remember Catalina ever using this surname, even in the modern day. Other than that, the letter is excellent. "Maybe you should include our names," Jane says when I pass the letter to her.
"No," I say, "it could be too dangerous, and Scotland does not like England."
"King James might think Catalina is betraying him if we do not."

We both look at Mummy. She looks between us all. "Maybe we should include our names," she finally says. "We do not want the Scottish King thinking we are betraying him."
Catalina nods and takes the letter, adding all our names before sealing the letter. But who will send it to the King? Who can we send? Eventually, Catalina settles on a servant who was here when we arrived. He hurries off and says he will try to return with a reply.

It will take him days to get to Edinburgh. Until we get a response, all we can do is wait and have a quiet Christmas.

Nothing is going as I expected it. There is no going back now.