by Jason Ayres
“Fair enough,” replied Kay. “So can we get started now?” she added impatiently.
“We can,” said the angel. “This is the bit where I normally ask people where they want to go, but there won’t be any prizes for guessing in this case. Would it be the day of the ball, by any chance? It’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past day.”
“Got it in one,” replied Kay.
“This should be interesting,” said the angel. “Often I say when people go back that this will be version 2.0 of the day, but in this case it’s going to be version 3.0. But then you already figured that out, judging by your conversation with Kent last night.”
“You know it’s quite rude to eavesdrop on private conversations,” said Kay, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the thought of the angel monitoring her every move.
“Sorry, it’s just that I find this whole process so fascinating, I don’t like to miss a single thing that happens,” replied the angel. “Don’t worry about it. Just go back and enjoy your day.”
“And can I talk to Richard about it afterwards?” she asked.
“Well, I can’t see in this instance it will matter much,” said the angel. “But like I said before, no one else.”
“I’m hardly likely to,” said Kay. “I don’t want to get carted off to the loony bin. Forget coachloads of time travel tourists and the Loch Ness Monster. I’m more likely to end up in a mental institution if I go around telling people I’m a time traveller who talks to an angel in a mirror.”
“But you people watch enough movies and films with similarly preposterous premises,” said the angel.
“But that’s just fantasy,” replied Kay. “People watching know it’s only a fantasy. If you ask me, the characters in these films are far too accepting of the situation when someone claims to be a time traveller. In real life, if anyone went around claiming to be a time traveller, 99% of people would think they were insane. And the 1% who did believe them would probably be insane themselves. The only reason I believe in it now is because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Now can we please have less talk and more action? I’ve got a ball to go to!”
“Your wish is my command,” replied the angel, clicking her fingers in the mirror to bring the conversation to an end.
The next thing she knew, Kay was waking up in her teenage bedroom.
Chapter Nine
July 1994
The sun was pouring through the window and the room was warm. She had travelled back once again to a day in the summer. It was a hot July morning and just like before she felt the energy of youth coursing through her veins.
She sat up and looked around, images of her teenage life all around her. Her duvet cover was bright red and covered in white hearts. The walls were adorned with posters of the indie bands that she had loved in her youth: Saint Etienne, Blur and The Charlatans.
The poster of Saint Etienne’s Foxbase Alpha album cover triggered some happy memories. They had been the first band she had ever gone to see, a gig at the Equinox Club in Leicester Square in 1993. It had been an amazing night, travelling down with three girl friends on the train from Oxford. It was one of the most fondly remembered nights of her youth and one she would certainly consider revisiting. She had been at that age when fresh and new experiences were happening all the time.
It was the first and only time she had got to see Saint Etienne live. Years later she found out the band were doing a special 25th anniversary tour celebrating the release of Foxbase Alpha. She had really wanted to go, but it hadn’t happened. She hadn’t kept in touch with those two friends. They were long lost in the past.
When she had tentatively mentioned going to one of the reunion concerts to Alan, he dismissed the suggestion as ridiculous. She was far too old to be running around going to gigs, he had said.
That had been pretty much the sort of response she got to most suggestions throughout their relationship. Even when they were younger, he wasn’t interested in going anywhere or doing anything remotely exciting.
One year, when her daughter was still a toddler, she had had the chance to go to Glastonbury, but he had put a stop to that, too. He said it was inappropriate for her to go off to a pop festival like that when she had the responsibility of looking after a child, and besides, his golf society were away on one of their trips that weekend. That was the sort of selfish bastard he was.
She needed to forget about Alan for the moment. There would be plenty of time to think up a way for him to get his come-uppance later on. Today was all about her and Kent.
The clock told her it was nearly 8.30am. She wandered across the room to her Sanyo stereo system. It was black ash, and had four layers to it. There was a turntable on the top, with a radio on the second layer. The third deck was a CD player and finally a twin cassette deck. She pressed eject on the CD to see what popped out – unsurprisingly, it was Foxbase Alpha. Resisting the temptation to listen, instead she flicked on the radio, keen to immerse herself in the day at hand.
She was greeted by the familiar voice of Steve Wright presenting the breakfast show on Radio 1, along with his posse. It cut to the news which she listened to with interest. The lead story was about O.J. Simpson being tried for murder. She had forgotten all about that, but it had been huge at the time.
The weather forecast said it was going to be hot and sunny with a maximum temperature of 29 °C. She didn’t need the radio to tell her that, she could see it was a glorious day just from looking out of the window. In her memories, the ball had taken place on a lovely warm summer’s evening. Clearly those memories hadn’t lied.
She couldn’t have asked for better weather. What a tonic after struggling through the cold, dark December days of 2018.
It was time to think more about the day ahead. What were her objectives and how was she going to accomplish them? What did she want to get out of this day?
She was pretty clear what her objectives were. It was how she was going to go about it that was less clear. She needed to bin Glen off and ensure Kent took her to the ball instead. That was the first part, but she wanted more. Kent had told her to seize the moment and that was exactly what she intended to do.
This had been the night she had lost her virginity. She had every intention of seeing that part of history fulfilled, albeit with a different partner. She had to accept that Kent didn’t want her in 2018, so this was going to be her one and only chance to sleep with him. It was vital she didn’t waste it.
She did not want to waste the rest of the day either. The ball might not be until the evening, but she certainly wasn’t going to sit around the house waiting until it was time to go out. She wanted to see as much of Kent as she could, so she needed to get out there and make things happen.
So, she was pretty clear on what she needed to do, but what about the application? How was she going to get rid of Glen? She had enjoyed Kent’s tale of how he had spiked him with laxatives. It would have been fun to humiliate him with some similarly diabolical scheme, but time was of the essence. She didn’t have time to hatch some elaborate plot. She needed to get the job done quickly and effectively.
All she had to do was tell Glen straight that she wasn’t going to the ball with him. It was her prerogative after all. And she wouldn’t pull any punches while she was doing it. Glen may have been an arrogant son of a bitch even back then, but he would be no match for Kay with all her years of experience behind her, not to mention the benefit of her hindsight.
She would go and let him know in no uncertain terms what she thought of him. That would be satisfaction enough. As soon as she had done that, she would be straight round to Kent to give him the good news that he did have a date for the ball after all.
She needed to get herself ready. She looked through her wardrobe, delighted to find some long-forgotten favourite clothes that she would never have squeezed her forty-three-year-old frame into. She also found a Catwoman costume hanging there. Of course, she recalled. The theme of the ball had been superheroes.
She picked out a skimpy, pale lemon dress, the perfect item for this gorgeous summer’s day. It looked impossibly small but she knew at this age it would fit her.
She dressed quickly, eager to get on with the matter in hand. Going downstairs in search of breakfast, she discovered that the house was empty. Her mum and dad were both out at work. She was initially disappointed, as she very much wanted to see them both again, but consoled herself with the thought that she was sure to see them in the evening.
She hadn’t come back to this day purely to relive the ball. Part of her multitasking agenda involved seeing her parents again, which was just as important as seeing Kent, because by 2018 both of them were dead.
Keen to keep her strength up for the day ahead, she prepared herself a decent breakfast of Weetabix and toast, washed down with coffee and orange juice. As she ate alone in the kitchen where she had eaten almost all her meals for the first nineteen years of her life, she sat and thought about her parents.
Kay had been an only child, born to them when they were both over forty. After years of trying and failing to conceive, her mother’s pregnancy had come as a complete surprise when it finally happened. By her teenage years they were already in their late-fifties. Both of them drank an awful lot of alcohol, a trait it seemed Kay had inherited as she grew older. In the end, the drink had killed them both.
Despite being an only child, she had inherited nothing. If she had, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in now. Sadly, her parents had never owned their own home. When they had married in 1963 they had got a council house, as millions of others had in those days. Her dad was a manual worker on the railways and her mother stayed at home. They had never been short of money and had a comfortable living but they had no assets.
Her father had talked about buying the house during the right-to-buy bonanza of the late-1980s, but by then it was too late. Even at the knock-down prices the houses were being offered at, they couldn’t get a mortgage. Not only was he considered to be too old, he had also been forced to retire early through ill health.
She didn’t blame her parents for any of this. They had loved her and nurtured her, and that was worth more than any inheritance. But how she wished they were still around in 2018 to give her some sanctuary in the desperate times she had found herself. The day she had left home to live with Alan, her father had promised that there would always be a place for her as long as they were alive.
But they were long gone and she was on her own. Maybe it was for the best. At least they had been spared seeing her in the mess she had ended up in. Her father would probably be turning in his grave if he could see her now, and who could blame him? She felt utterly ashamed at the failure her life had turned out to be. It was one of the things that gnawed away at her every day, driving her to drink.
At least she would see them later, and this would not be the final time either. She would make sure to go back and spend a quality day with them before all of this was over. As for now, it was time to go round and give Glen what was coming to him. She had been looking forward to this.
Heading outside, she made her way down the front path towards the gate, relishing the feel of the warm sunshine on her skin. The signs of summer were everywhere. She could hear the low drone of a light aircraft somewhere overhead, as well as the sound of the next-door neighbour’s lawnmower. The lawn in her front garden looked immaculate. She remembered how proud her father had always been of the garden, particularly the year he had won a prize in the Britain in Bloom competition.
The lawn was framed with flower beds containing a colourful variety of flowers. Dozens of bees were buzzing around the buddleja flowers, and there were plenty of butterflies around, too. She watched, amused, as two cabbage whites had a brief coupling in mid-air.
Oh to be as carefree as those butterflies, she thought. They didn’t have the stress of mortgages and affairs and divorce settlements. They just got on with it. Still, being an insect, they couldn’t afford not to. How long did a butterfly live – one summer, maybe? They certainly didn’t have time to waste worrying about their pension plans.
But today, Kay could be as carefree as those butterflies. She could live this day as if she were a mayfly if she wanted to, as a twenty-four-hour life was all she had in this place and time. Quickening her stride, she closed the gate behind her and set off down the street towards Glen’s house at a lightning pace.
She didn’t have any problem remembering exactly where to go. During their brief relationship she had been round to his house many times, mostly for sex. Glen hadn’t been that interested in doing anything else with her. Well, he wasn’t going to be getting any today. That was for certain.
His house was at the rougher end of the council estate, next door to a house where an old man in a string vest did up old bangers on his front lawn. She rang the front doorbell and waited, as a dog in a house nearby barked relentlessly.
It seemed to take an age for him to answer the door, and when he did, he looked half-awake and dishevelled in just T-shirt and boxers. Despite that, it didn’t take long for his familiar swagger to manifest itself.
“Kay!” he exclaimed. “I hadn’t expected to see you this early. Can’t wait to get your hands on me, eh?”
That was exactly how she remembered Glen, cocky and arrogant. “Not exactly,” she replied, waiting to see what else he would have to say for himself.
“I was still in bed when you rang the bell,” he said. “Getting plenty of shut-eye, you know, to recharge the batteries ready for later. I’ve got a feeling I’m not going to get much sleep, tonight, what do you reckon?”
He winked at her as he said this like some seedy character out of an ancient Carry On film.
“Well, this won’t take long,” replied Kay, ignoring his corny attempts at humour. “Then you can get back to bed.”
“Speaking of which, why don’t you join me?” asked Glen. “No need to wait until tonight, is there? I know you’re gagging for it: you wouldn’t have worn that dress if you weren’t.”
His eyes were all over her lemon-clad body. He was practically drooling.
“That’s what you think, is it?” said Kay. “Oh, by the way, my eyes are on my face, not on my chest. I’d appreciate it if you looked at me properly when I’m speaking to you.”
She had a stony look on her face which Glen, tearing his eyes reluctantly away from her breasts, picked up on. His swagger and cockiness began to dissipate as he detected that this hottie on his doorstep wasn’t giving off the sorts of signals that suggested she was about to leap into the sack with him.
“Why have you come round, Kay?” he asked, the wind clearly taken out of his sails.
“Just one question,” she replied. “Why did you tell me Richard was gay?”
“Richard?” he asked, momentarily not sure who she was talking about. “Who’s Richard?” Then the penny dropped. “Oh, you mean Kenty? Yeah, he’s gay alright – bent as a nine-bob note. You don’t want to waste any time on him. You’re better off with a real man – like me.”
If Kay hadn’t known Glen better, she would scarcely have been able to believe what she was hearing. How on earth had she fallen for this idiot in her youth? She couldn’t really have been that naïve – could she? Yes, he had a fit body and good looks, but that was all he had in the plus column. His personality was nothing short of odious. As for his homophobic comments, this may have been over two decades ago but they were out of place even then. He seriously needed putting in his place.
“Firstly,” she began, “I know for a fact he isn’t gay. Secondly, I find your homophobic comments nauseating. Perhaps you’re the one who is gay, and you’re trying to make out he is to cover up your own sexuality – have you considered that?”
She knew he wasn’t, but it was fun winding him up saying it.
“Me? Gay? I’ve had more women than Kenty’s had hot dinners,” he boasted.
“Really?” she said. “Well, I’m sure they were very impressed by your ten-second perform
ances. That is assuming, of course, that these fictional conquests exist – which I doubt. Quite honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if you were still a virgin. And just in case you were wondering, if you haven’t popped your cherry yet, you certainly won’t be doing so with me.”
Wow, it felt good saying this stuff. Twenty-five years of anger and resentment were pouring out of her onto her hapless victim in the doorway in front of her. She noticed that Glen was turning a deep shade of red. She could see that she was getting to him, but wasn’t finished yet.
“You seriously need to sort out your attitude to women – and people in general, come to that. You may think you’re cool but anyone with half a brain cell can see what a twat you are a mile off. You can consider your invitation to the ball rescinded. I shall be making other arrangements.”
Glen looked gobsmacked. He clearly wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. In fact, he looked as if he was about to start crying.
“And don’t even think about turning up and causing any trouble tonight or I’ll tell all the girls at the ball that you’ve got a four-inch cock.”
“How…how do you know?” he said, looking completely crestfallen.
“I have my ways and means,” replied Kay. “Now, I suggest you go back upstairs and play with your little willy for a while because that’s the only action you’ll be getting today.”
Satisfied that she had said enough, she turned on her heel and left, giving him a provocative wiggle of her arse as she did, just to show him what he would be missing. That was as near as he would be getting to her in this universe. What a pity this wasn’t the real one.
Kay had said more than enough. The stuffing had been well and truly knocked out of him. It wasn’t like Glen not to have the last word, but she had rendered him speechless. The only sound she heard behind her as she walked down the path was that of the door slamming, which set the neighbour’s dog barking again.
She could consider part one of her plan well and truly complete. Now she could move on to make her next house call, one which she was expecting to be far more pleasant.