‘You mean the fairy folk at the bottom of our non-existent garden?’ Alfie grinned, determined not to let his sister get the better of him.
‘Yes, those fairies, except they’re not fairies they’re the Clock People and they live in a fob watch, although their home has been stolen by a thief. So you see, Alfie, I thought you and I could team up and have ourselves an adventure, leaving out the elves hopefully. If we catch the scoundrel we’ll become heroes and heroines, legends of another world if you see what I mean,’ Scarlet said appealing to her brother’s sense of adventure and not his sense of what was right and proper.
Alfie wasn’t sure he knew what his sister meant, although he liked the bit about an adventure and being heroes – that, and this was the second week of the summer holiday and he was bored already. Time was an illusion. When enjoying yourself time flew by like a dragonfly in flight, and when you were bored out of your tiny little mind it dragged by as if Old Father Time were wearing an old diving suit, brass helmet, lead boots and all!
‘You mean the little people were real and I wasn’t imagining the whole thing?’ spat Alfie somewhat disbelievingly as he inched a little closer to his sister, hoping she wasn’t about to lasso him with a skipping rope.
‘Come over here, Alfie, and I’ll show you something, or of course you could forget the whole thing and I’ll have the adventure of a lifetime on my own where I’ll be both the hero and the heroine. Look, it’s no skin off my nose,’ Scarlet sniffed standing over the dolls’ house.
Alfie still wasn’t sure. ‘No skin off my nose’ – suddenly Alfie pictured being skinned alive, put in a pot and boiled alive then eaten by a ravenous tribe of Red Indian cannibals. Alfie shuddered but his curiosity was close to being piqued. He had no choice but to have a closer peek, but he’d keep his wits about him just in case his sister was planning a surprise sneak attack. The thing was, Alfie knew all there was to know about being sneaky. Practically wrote the book on sneakiness did dear old Alfie boy. So he circled the room, keeping his back against the wall at all times, coming at the dolls’ house from the opposite side to where Scarlet was standing with her hands behind her back trying her best to look innocent. That way Alfie could run for his life whenever he sensed he was in mortal danger from his sworn enemy, in other words his big sister Scarlet.
‘Look, Alfie, look, the little people!’ exclaimed Scarlet opening up the face of the dolls’ house as if she were a magician about to pull off a clever conjuring trick. Alfie peered cautiously into the dolls’ house to see two little people going about their daily lives as if this was the way they had always lived, in comfort and luxury. Alfie could see he wasn’t imagining anything other than a tribe of boy-eating Red Indians with an axe to grind. It seemed Scarlet was serious about smoking the pipe of peace with her brother, the trouble was, was Alfie? Alfie was hoping the smoke signals he was imagining in his head were not asking for backup from a group of warring Indian squaws, his sister’s friends who were hiding in the other room about to spring a surprise attack from the rear!
Alfie was waiting for something to happen, something that would cause him harm. Had he unwittingly stepped into a trap laid by an Indian trapper or a mouse trap lain by his arch enemy? No, that was the sort of thing he would do. Scarlet wasn’t sneaky enough for that, she didn’t have the imagination or at least not when it came to doing bad things, while Alfie didn’t have the imagination when it came to doing good things.
‘Look, Alfie, look!’ exclaimed Scarlet peering into the dolls’ house at Wilbur and Tippy who were now promenading up and down the carpet showing off their new clothes as if they were fashion models on a catwalk.
‘Crikey almighty, fairies living inside your dolls’ house, you couldn’t make it up!’ spat Alfie, though the little people wished he hadn’t as they had to dive for cover.
‘Alfie, spitting is horrible. Not inside the house, Mother always says it spreads diseases!’ Scarlet said scolding her brother but so gently it appeared he didn’t feel a thing.
‘Didn’t say anything about spitting in the dolls’ house,’ Alfie grinned trying to poke Wilbur and Tippy with his fingers as if they were animals in a miniature zoo.
‘Alfie, stop that or there will be no adventure and you can forget being a hero, you’ll just be the villain of the piece as usual!’ snapped Scarlet scolding her younger brother a little harder so this time he did take notice, as Alfie realised too late he had just stepped into an invisible mouse trap.
‘Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, sis, sorry. From now on I’m a member of the gang, in fact I’m the leader coz when it comes to thinking up schemes I’m the king of the castle. Hey, that’s an idea, why don’t the little people live in my toy castle? There’s plenty of room and the only dragons anywhere in sight are dragonflies and they’re harmless. It’s the hornets you need to watch out for as they, like a scorpion, have got a sting in their tail!’ said Alfie getting carried away but not with the fairies in this curious case.
‘Okay Alfie, you’re in charge but don’t let us down, we’re counting on you,’ Scarlet replied making sure Alfie was onboard by making him feel important. Of course she would be pulling his strings whether he knew it or not, as Scarlet saw herself as the shadow puppet master and her brother as the puppet. As far as Scarlet was concerned, she was the brains of the operation and Alfie was the brawn. Truth was, Scarlet knew there would come a time if they confronted the thief they would a) need someone cunning behind them and b) need some brawn, and although Alfie was small he was as strong as an ox. Even his father had stopped playing rough and tumble with him, as more often than not he was the one who couldn’t get out of an arm lock.
‘Alfie, let me introduce you to Apprentice Tippy Handle Second Class and Apprentice Wilbur Wigglesworth Second Class, but for the record let me state that I think they’re both first class,’ Scarlet said picking Wilbur up first, followed closely on behind by Tippy as she placed them on the palm of her outstretched hand. Then she held them right under Alfie’s nose as if he were a major general and they were his troops which he was about to inspect.
‘Tippy, what sort of name is Tippy? Wilbur yes, after the aviator who was the first man to fly like a bird, Wilbur Wright, but Tippy, are you sure you’re not a fairy?!’ Alfie exclaimed scratching his head.
‘No, I’m not a fairy any more than you’re Humpty Dumpty, although by the looks of you I could be wrong on that score!’ Tippy scowled standing tall or as tall as she could make herself.
‘What did she say? Couldn’t hear a word of it!’ Alfie exclaimed cupping his hand to his ear theatrically.
‘She said she didn’t give herself that name, she was christened Tippy and Handle’s her surname like yours is Potts. If she had her way she would have been christened Scarlet,’ Scarlet said winking at Tippy in an overly exaggerated manner, as she didn’t want to get her brother offside when she’d only just got him on her side.
‘So her full name is Tippy Handle. Tippy Handle, what is she a tea pot?!’ sniffed Alfie trying not to laugh but failing miserably.
‘She says you’re potty, Alfie!’ snapped Scarlet tipping more words into the open mouth of Apprentice Tippy Handle as if she had a tea pot in her hands full to the brim with words.
‘Imagine two Scarlets, one a giant and one no bigger than Thumbelina,’ Alfie said as his imagination ran wilder.
‘Look, Alfie, the plan is Wilbur and Tippy will keep watch on the bedroom windowsill and if they see the thief they will signal us.’
‘How will they let us know, smoke signals? After all, we can’t hear a word they say!’ Alfie exclaimed seeing the first flaw in Scarlet’s perfectly drawn-up plan, which to his mind was drawn up using invisible ink.
‘Yes, good point, Alfie, I’m glad you’re paying attention for a change. So what do you suggest?’ Scarlet replied playing dumb as she had several good ideas as to how the little people may alert them to the presence of
the thief on the street below them. However, she was more than happy to see Alfie was getting involved and in a good way for a change.
‘Let me think on it, I always think better on a full stomach,’ Alfie mused heading for the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later after stuffing his face with cakes and sandwiches he was back with a grin on his face the Cheshire Cat would have been proud of.
‘Got it, it’s fairly obvious really, took me no time at all to figure out. I’m surprised you didn’t think of it!’ Alfie snorted. Scarlet was half expecting some feeble idea that had more holes in it than a Swiss cheese.
‘I’ve got a paper plane which will rest inside this catapult I have in my hand. All Aviatrix Tippy Handle has to do is climb into the plane. Aviator Wilbur then pushes this stone onto this spoon. I will rest the stone on the edge of the book so it is easy to move,’ Alfie said pausing as he pointed from the book on the window ledge to the spoon, ‘then Wilbur joins Tippy in the well-designed flying machine designed on the principles of Wilbur and Orville Wright’s Flyer that flew from Kill Devils Hill in 1903, although I hope no one gets splattered in this maiden flight obviously, and Bob’s your uncle. Of course Bob is not our uncle, our uncle is Uncle Krispin and what a wet weekend he’s turned out to be,’ huffed Alfie getting so carried away he just may as well have been away with the fairies in Neverland!
‘Yes, yes, very… what’s the word I’m looking for? Ah yes, that’s it, BONKERS!’ Scarlet exclaimed mirroring the horrified expression upon the faces of the two greenhorn aviators.
‘But it’s brilliant, utterly brilliant genius, in fact, you see, they will be able to glide down and then parachute onto the thief’s head, climb down the man mountain so to speak and into his pocket where he keeps their house. What could be simpler?’
‘Yes, it is very imaginative, Alfie, I’ll grant you that, perhaps too imaginative. I thought some sort of bell pull or mirror reflecting off the sun that sort of thing. Then we can put Wilbur and Tippy in our pocket and follow the thief to his hideout,’ Scarlet replied talking a little more sense than her brother, although not a lot more sense.
‘They could make history. The first little people to fly, other than fairies naturally, but they don’t really exist outside the storybook. How can you turn your noses up at getting in the history books? We’ll all be famous!’ cried Alfie close to a case of spontaneous human combustion.
‘What kind of history, medieval history? And how are Aviatrix Tippy “gone round the bend” Handle and Aviator Wilbur “not right in the head” Wigglesworth going to steer this here heavier-than-air machine of yours?!’ Scarlet exclaimed blowing out her cheeks.
‘Look, if you don’t want my help just say so and I’ll go back to pulling legs off spiders, putting snails in your bed and pouring hot water over the ants in the kitchen, and, and as regards steering the lighter-than-air machine, all you have to do is lean towards one side and it will turn that way. Not wishing to repeat myself but what could be simpler? Oh and if worst comes to worst and the plane takes a nose dive on take-off it will simply end up in the canopy over our shop!’ Alfie added trying to explain the unexplainable as if he were Leonardo da Vinci.
Scarlet wanted to give Alfie a long, long list of what could be simpler, like what if it rained turning the paper plane into papier maché, or alternatively it went straight under a carriage or an omnibus along with the two brave pilots who came to a very sticky end? But there wasn’t time to pick Alfie’s bright idea apart cog by cog, wheel by wheel and follet by follet, leaving out the hammers, as they were hammering inside Scarlet’s head. Scarlet wanted to let her brother down gently, something Aviatrix Handle and Aviator Wigglesworth were also hoping for! So Scarlet changed tack. ‘Look, Alfie, the idea has its merits but it’s a little too dangerous and I know right now the wind is fairly light, but if the Shadow Wind were to get up a head of steam then your beautiful work of paper art may well end up either in the gutter or in the River Thames!’
‘Okay, you’ve made your point, let’s knock the flying machine on the head for the moment. What about knocking a marble off the windowsill into one of Mum’s copper pots? That should make a decent bang. The marble would roll easily too and wouldn’t be too heavy to push, even for our little folk, and we could use Grandma’s old bedpan. That should make a racket when the marble lands in it!’ Alfie snorted as a mischievous look appeared on his face.
‘Alfie Potts, you’re a genius, a boy wonder. One day your brains will be pickled in a jar to stand proudly on the shelves of the Museum of Mankind in London. Mind you, perhaps the bedpan is a step too far. Grandma would turn in her grave. But apart from that small hiccup the plan’s brilliant!’ hollered Scarlet hugging her brother so tightly she almost squeezed the life out of him. Alfie tried to pull away but Scarlet was hugging him too tightly so he just grimaced then managed a half smile as if to say, ‘A boy wonder, it’s true, it has been said by my teachers that I’m destined for greater things.’ Clearly here young Alfie is lying through his crooked teeth! The truth of the tale was most of his teachers thought he was a little pickle and would be happy to see Alfie’s brain pickled in a jar in the Museum of Mankind in London right this minute if not sooner!
‘Yes, our little people will do the job just fine,’ Scarlet said winking theatrically at Wilbur and Tippy who winked back equally as theatrically.
‘Okay sis, slip of the tongue, your little folk. I’m just along for the joyride. Hey, that gives me another brilliant idea. Tippy and Wilbur can sit in one of my toy model cars then when they see the thief they can race along the windowsill and catch a better look,’ replied Alfie having another bright idea, or so he imagined.
‘Flying cars, I think not!’ Scarlet said shooting her brother’s bright idea down in flames. ‘Then that’s settled. Wilbur and Tippy will camp out on the windowsill during the day and when they see the thief they’ll roll the marble over the edge of the windowsill into the copper pan, and hey presto, one of us will come running,’ Scarlet said as Wilbur and Tippy just nodded their heads in agreement and smiled. By this time the two clock apprentices were getting used to playing the part of mime artists in a silent film.
‘What if the thief never returns to the street? He may think it’s safer on the other side of the street or more like on the other side of the River Thames,’ said Wilbur wondering if he’d ever see his friends and family again.
‘The thief always returns to the scene of the crime, it says so in all the storybooks or at least the ones in our library,’ Tippy replied trying to be upbeat, even though she wasn’t sure if this maxim was always true. She hoped in this curious case it was… tick tick tick tock…
22
The Greatest Thief of all Time!
Thankfully the old maxim was true, for the thief had returned to the crime, it was just the scene was a hundred years or so earlier in time. The thief understandably was finding it hard to fit in, so he decided the only thing to keep him sane was to do what he did best which was thieving. And what better place to start than the exact place where he had stolen the antique gold fob watch, his lucky charm, and what he now considered as Lucky Street. Times had changed but in other ways they hadn’t. The street and shops and houses on the street were mostly Elizabethan as they were in the time of the Edwardians where he resided. There were goldsmiths and jewellers aplenty on the street, which no doubt was why he loved the street so much.
Then a most curious thought came to mind: was the watch in his pocket now in somebody else’s pocket in another time? He fumbled in his pocket and produced the watch. No, it was still there. Imagine if he pickpocketed his own watch? Could something be in two places at the same time? Was he still walking about in 1909, still pickpocketing his way around London? The thief had heard some mad scientists in his time say atoms could be in two places at once and he was made up of atoms, so perhaps this was possible.
The thief tried to push these intrusive thoughts of a most curious nat
ure to the back of his mind. He did not think these were even his own thoughts but thoughts belonging to somebody else, but who? The last owner of the watch perhaps, the original maker of the watch? What he wouldn’t give to meet this man who to his mind was clearly able to manipulate both time and space. But to do this he would have to travel back in time even further, which could be even more perilous than the perilous journey he had taken up to this point in time.
The thief had to stop thinking and start doing and that meant finding an easy mark and fleecing him of whatever needed fleecing. Eventually this would clear his mind and he would know what to do next. This was a technique that often worked, for if you stopped thinking about something, that something would spring to mind as if by magic. The trouble was the thief was a one-man operation, both brains and brawn, the mastermind and the master thief all rolled into one.
A few hours later, and with a pocket full to the brim with timepieces, the answer had come to him: he must go back to Greenwich and the Prime Meridian timeline when the next full moon was in town. He would stand on that timeline, hold out his watch and wait for the moonlight to work its magic. Striking midnight in a synchronistic event the moonbeams would strike the moonstone face and ‘hey presto!’ he would return to his own time. He hoped and prayed this was the curious case, for if it was not God knows what would become of him. The thief may well become both of H.G. Wells’ fantastical creations at the same time: the Time Traveller, only ever known by this name and no other, and the Invisible Man. Neither of these names would get you into any of the fancy restaurants or hotels in the posh part of London Town, I fancy. Being a thief, no matter how notorious, would not get you through the doors of fancy restaurants or nightclubs but he wasn’t just a simple thief, he was the Time Thief, the Greatest Thief of all Time!
While the wheels of the thief’s mind turned anything like clockwork, the wheels inside the fob watch turned exactly like clockwork. ‘Apprentices, will you all please get yourselves out of bottom gear and into top gear, unless you want to turn out like Apprentice Wigglesworth the Dreamer, and look what happened to him,’ Omnigus Prattles snapped, chiding the young apprentices who, like Wilbur, had been caught daydreaming while standing on the ladders in the mechanism. ‘I wish they all had keys in their backs like toy soldiers then I could wind them all up!’
The Clock People Page 15