Past Present Future

by Alexander, N J.

  Maddy stayed silent. I don’t think she could quite visualise the cartoon versions of Anthony and I in quite the same way as I could.

  ‘Look, I know it is pretty immature stuff and a bit complex to explain, unless you really understand Alice in Wonderland and you relate it to the story with a modern twist. But basically he writes Status Updates relating to her, but really they’re following what I write on my Wall, or at least that’s how they appear to me.’

  ‘Just hurry up and get to the end of your book and then stop it.’

  ‘Okay, I will…so have we got a deal to get out of the school play early?’

  ‘I’ll find a way round it.’

  I didn’t doubt her for a second.

  I lay next to Elyse on top of the bed staring up at the ceiling and thinking; I was trying to prevent myself from falling asleep along with her. Her skin still had a faint smell of lavender baby-bath.

  I wasn’t still thinking about ways to get out of the school play; that had taken place a few days before and had been easy in the end. I was not long behind Maddy and Steve who had simply scooped up Henry and left. But Elyse got bored sitting in the audience, so I took her out early to get back in time to watch Alexandra Burke beat JLS with her version of Halleluiah. Richard stayed behind with William, because he had no choice; his grandson was in another one of the plays. So, as I lay there, I was thinking of Alice in Wonderland and how Lewis Carroll hadn’t simply thrown it together in jumbled chaos, like I’d always considered as a child; there was far more too it.

  As I stared into darkness the penny suddenly dropped with regard to his Knave of Hearts. The Knave is judged in the court in the final chapter of the book. But it’s not just a playing card who has run off with a plate full of jam tarts. The jam tarts are symbolic of tarts: prostitutes or courtesans. And the Knave who sits as a young prince in a pack of cards is also a rogue, a rascal, a scoundrel and a humble man. But the Knave is also known as Jack. Anthony Hope was both my prince charming and bad boy ‘Jack.’ He was the Jack of Hearts at the very heart of my equation. But how could he drop honey into hot milk…yet still crave the sweet tart? On my last thought I unintentionally dozed off and, over the next few days, I managed to weave my crazy thoughts into Status Updates, thinking at that point that the only person they would be remotely interesting to was Anthony Hope.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was the lull on Status Updates from Anthony, along with lack of access to my study books between Christmas and New Year that finally triggered me to read the Anthony Hope novel online. It was as though I needed the ‘Anthony’ substitute as a quick fix. I knew from messages left on his Facebook Wall that he was working through Christmas. I also knew his girlfriend was staying with him. And I guessed that two child-free people living in a capital city would spend their time visiting a whirlwind of glamorous parties.

  It is true that we had a massive piss-up party at Maddy’s, but I never bothered going to Richard’s work party and even he didn’t grace them with his presence this year. Christmas Day had been an endless round of visiting relatives: Richard’s mum in the nursing home first thing, then over to Richard’s wife midmorning. That was the tradition, so that Richard got to see his children and grandchildren on Christmas Day. Then back to ours for Christmas dinner, which ended up more of a Christmas supper as the turkey was far too big and took far too long to cook. Dad turned up alone, leaving Mum in bed with flu, refusing to spread her germs; her present and dinner were sent back with Dad. Grandmama had escaped on a coach trip to Scotland and my brother and Tammy had been on the same rally race around relatives, managing to turn up to ours just as our forks dived into the turkey. Matt and Dad had an almighty row over Matt’s piss-poor timing, so Matt and Tammy swiftly despatched William and Elyse’s gifts and left.

  Overall, Christmas was, as usual grossly over-rated and by New Year none of us could be arsed to do anything and spent the next day moaning to one another on the phone about how bored we’d all been.

  Anthony Hope had posted a clip from the Rat Pack with Sammy Davis Junior singing ‘She’s Funny That Way,’ at the Sands in 1963. So I played the video clip several times over, marvelling at the way he managed to find a clip which answered my question: “What was he playing at?” It was a heckled version of the song about a woman crazy for a penniless man, but she would happily live in a tent, despite being better off without him. I was also mildly irritated by the fact he arrogantly seemed to know that he was behaving like a love rat and was revelling in the attention.

  My Status Update in response simply said: You’re such a card – Jack! ;)

  Mum finally got over her virus soon after New Year and had offered to come over to see William and Elyse as well as giving Richard and I the chance to escape to the cinema alone for the afternoon. Our plan was to see Australia, which had just been released.

  The house was a tip with school holidays and new toys scattered everywhere. The overwhelming pile of ironing was the finishing touch, which made me decide to blank it all and escape to the Study before Mum and Dad arrived.

  The search engine was still open on the screen and instead of typing in Facebook, I typed in Anthony Hope + Simon Dale + Story + Plot + Synopsis in fact anything that would pull up the dreaded but compelling book.

  Chewing on the corner of my lower lip and leaning in towards the monitor, I scrolled down the cached results, and then finally clicked on a free version of the book, which had been uploaded in its entirety. Perhaps I could slowly read my way through it each day? I clicked the “next” box on the screen to get past the title page and was now faced with chapter headings.

  My eyes slowly made their way down the long list – Chapter One: The Child of Prophecy, Chapter Two: The Way of Youth, Chapter Three: The Music of the World, Chapter Four: Cydaria Revealed, Chapter Five: I am Forbidden to Forget, Chapter Six: An Invitation to Court, Chapter Seven: What Came of Honesty, Chapter Eight: Madness, Magic and Moonshine, all the way down to Chapter Seventeen: What Befell my Last Guinea and Chapter Eighteen: Some Mighty Silly Business. Even the chapter headings appeared to have some pertinence.

  My eyes continued to read down all twenty-six chapters that appeared on my screen.

  Just as I was about to enter Chapter One, I heard Mum and Dad enter the house. I paused but then decided to leave Richard to do the pleasantries, my absence was also masked by William and Elyse’s enthusiastic welcome.

  I double-clicked on Chapter One: The Child of Prophecy.

  I found some of the language in the opening chapter hard work, and cursed myself for being so thick. It wasn’t exactly Jackie Collins. The general gist of it was about trust, truth and God. But I felt my mouth fall and I heard my exhaled breath when I’d got to the end of the second paragraph:

  I, Simon Dale, was born on the seventh day of the seventh month in the year of Our Lord sixteen hundred and forty-seven. The date was good in that the divine number was thrice found in it, but evil in that it fell on a time of sore trouble for both the nation and for our own house.

  I whispered the opening line. The words echoed in my head. The odds of this just couldn’t be. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk and leaning my head into my hands. Anthony Hope had created an historical novel about a fictional man who just so happened to have a bit of a thing for divine numbers. But in this case the divine number appearing three times was seven, not eight.

  But eight followed seven, and then I thought about six being the day of creation, seven the day of rest and eight the day of resurrection. For me, this long-forgotten book had been resurrected as eight in year 2008 which it had been when I first stumbled on it after Halloween.

  As for “trouble for the nation and our own house”, even that sounded familiar as I thought of the current financial shit we were all going through. This was too freaky. I shivered as though my blood had recoiled to safety.

  ‘What are you doing? If you’re going to the cinema, don’t you think you should be getting yourself sorted?’ Mum
said, as she popped her head around the door. ‘Ahh…might have known you’d been on the computer in here. Don’t you think you’d be better off tidying up a bit, have you not noticed the state of the utility and the spare room upstairs?’

  ‘I’m coming…I’ll just be a few more minutes, and I’ve only got to put my coat on,’ I said, dismissing her so that I could rapidly scan down page two.

  Betty Nasroth, the wise woman, announced its imminence more than a year beforehand. For she predicted the birth, on the very day whereon I came into the world, within a mile from the Parish church, of a male child who should love where the King Loved, know what the King hid and drink of the King’s cup.

  So, this Betty woman was some kind of psychic who predicted the birth of Simon Dale. A man from humble origins with his destiny mapped out to fall for the King’s mistress, Nell. So what happens then? Does he end up with Nell Gwyn? Does he manage to steal her from her King? I needed to get to the end of the book.

  ‘Nicole, are you coming? We need to get going if you want to see the film,’ Richard shouted through the door.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be out in a minute…I’ve nearly finished,’ I shouted back, as the study PC had chosen now to go slow. ‘Hurry up,’ I cursed as I waited for it to open Chapter Twenty-Six: I Come Home. The screen turned black for a few seconds and then the chapter opened up. I repeatedly clicked on the next page icon at the bottom of the screen to get to the final page of the book. I scanned down to the very last paragraph…

  ‘and have you utterly forgotten her?’

  Her eyes were safely hidden.

  I smiled as I answered, “Utterly”

  ‘See how I stood! Will thou forgive me, Nelly?’

  ‘For a man may be very happy as he is and still not forget the things which have been. “What are you thinking of, Simon?” my wife asks sometimes when I lean back in my chair and smile “of nothing, sweet” say I. And in truth, I am not thinking, it is only that a low laugh echoes distantly in my ear. Faithful and loyal am I, but – should such as Nell leave nought behind her?

  So…the fictional man ends up with the other woman, not Nell – it’s there in black and white.

  If I am right and this book is trying to warn me away from Anthony Hope, then this latest girlfriend of Anthony’s will be the one he will eventually marry, leaving the courtesan, me, with nought. The thought of Richard’s financial shit popped into my head.

  I quickly flicked back several pages, until I found the last reference to Nell – why had she ended up with nought? Great, I thought after eventually finding it. Not only does she not get the man in question but she’s drops dead after getting poisoned. That’s it. I can’t read this book, there is no point. The whole thing is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous. How can an old book tell Anthony’s or my future? I went to grab my coat off the back of the kitchen door.

  We barely spoke a word as we drove to the cinema.

  Richard was listening to the radio, while I thought through the author Anthony Hope’s words and my numbers.

  It was like I was scribbling things down on a blackboard in my mind so I could see things more clearly.

  Nell ends up with “nought” which is “nothing” which is also “zero”.

  The quadratic equation has “0” or “zero” after the equal sign.

  But if seven has slid to eight, this time around the “zero” should slide to “one”.

  But “one” of what? I didn’t know.

  I still felt like I was missing something with the numbers. I instead turned my thoughts to his character marrying the other woman in the book. That last paragraph implied that Nell was still the one in his head. I was sure I was in Anthony’s head. I felt his presence, or at least felt like I was being watched.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ said Richard. ‘What are you thinking about?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I lied.

  A couple of days later I lied again.

  I had not long returned from an indoor sporting venue after spending the day there with Maddy and the kids. Richard had stayed home with Blue. As usual, I logged onto the laptop in the garden room to see what I’d missed while being out. But Richard came up behind me, placing an A4 sheet of paper next to me.

  ‘What’s this all about,’ he said.

  I looked at it from the corner of my eye, barely interested. Then I saw what it was and sat frozen for what felt like minutes, rather than seconds.

  ‘Hold on a sec while the Internet loads up.’

  My eyes slyly glanced down the page, checking that I hadn’t been foolish enough to have mentioned Anthony Hope’s name on there. Thank God I hadn’t. I tried to curb the sigh of relief which made me cough. I couldn’t believe he’d found my crazy number ramblings connected to number eight and the numbers in our birthdays that I’d posted on Facebook months ago for Anthony to see, just before he went away with his girlfriend.

  ‘Where did you find it?’ I asked, daring to look up at him.

  ‘On the desk in the study. I needed a piece of paper and thought it was a blank sheet until I turned it over and saw that lot,’ he said, pointing to my scribbles.

  It was then that I remembered recently using the scanner in the study. I must have taken the sheet off there without looking what was on it, and then left it lying around on the desk. Thank God I hadn’t found Anthony’s date of birth when I typed it all out. Oh no…what if he’s looked up the title of the book on his mobile and discovered the link back to Anthony Hope? Is Richard letting me dig myself into a hole and then going to throw Anthony Hope in at the end? How should I play this?

  ‘So…what is it then? Is the question that difficult?’

  ‘No…not at all…it’s just that…I’m thinking of writing a book,’ I said, while thinking what the hell possessed me to say that.

  ‘A book? What about?’

  ‘Erm…just stuff…you know…like…us lot, the credit crunch and life. I feel as if we are trapped in Alice in Wonderland.’

  ‘So what’s the relevance of all the numbers? Our dates of birth a—’

  ‘I’m using the ghostly numbers in there somewhere…I’m not sure how yet and I just wanted to see all the numbers in our dates of birth…to see where particular numbers cropped up.’ I said, still unsure why I actually did it myself that day. It was utterly crazy and I cringed as I wondered what Anthony must have thought about it when he spotted it all.

  ‘So…what has that novel Simon Dale got to do with it? Why is that mentioned on there? Haven’t you mentioned that book before to me?’

  ‘The book. Oh…it…it’s also set in dark and difficult times…I thought it would be useful that’s all,’ I said cringing, hoping that he wouldn’t later look it up himself later as see Anthony Hope’s name.

  ‘Oh right…fine…whatever…write your book then. Credit crunch could be a good subject…it’s certainly topical.’

  Richard left me to it, I felt myself relax, sort of.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Given my obsession with a man on my Facebook, the worst thing that could possibly have happened in my life was that I would be unable to get online.

  And, on the 18th of January 2009, I woke up to find we had no Internet access. I tried to refresh the connection. I unplugged the router, shut down the entire PC, logged back on again, all to no avail. I typed in the IP address, re-typed the router user name and password, clicked on Save and tried again – still nothing but the same message that said: Internet Explorer cannot display the web page.

  I repeated the process several times over while also trying to get William and Elyse ready for school. I was reaching the stage where I had that overwhelming urge to hurl the computer through the study window. I couldn’t believe out of all the days of the year it had chosen this day to do this to me.

  Enraged, I called Maddy and I quickly explained my predicament and that I needed to send a very urgent email. In other words, could I pop round as soon as possible, as in, the next hour after Richard, William and Elyse have left
the house? She agreed and freshly showered and bare faced, I grabbed the letter I needed, stuffed it into my bag, jumped into the car and raced over to Maddy’s.

  As I pulled through her iron gates the CD changed from Love is Noise to Infinity 2008. As usual, her front door was unlocked and she was standing in the kitchen still in her pyjamas, which was pretty normal for her around 09:00.

  Without seeming too rude I made a point of first checking out her latest family addition – Bella the hamster; Henry’s Christmas present from her brother.

  This cute tan-and-white creature weighed in at practically nothing but was currently causing constant brow-beating in my own household; William and Elyse were working on acquiring their own tiny balls of fluff.

  ‘She’s cute, but I’m glad I’ve not got one to clean out every week,’ I said, as I placed Bella back in the cage.

  As we waited for the kettle to boil, Maddy fetched her Apple Mac for me. She’d bought a Mac because the shiny white colour-coordinated with her kitchen. Then, she lit a cigarette, while I sorted out my email.

  ‘So…what’s the urgency then?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s Anthony, not an urgent email at all – sorry,’ I cringed. ‘He posted a Status last night that said he’s got an important announcement to make.’ I didn’t like her expression. It was the narrowed eyes that did it. ‘Look, I haven’t been on my Facebook much this last week…I’ve been trying hard not to,’ and I felt my face scrunching up, as I tried to justify my behaviour.

  ‘I might have known he’d be the reason why you’ve raced over here so quickly without even bothering to blow dry your hair.’

  ‘I know…I know…but I want to know what he means and he can’t see my hair is wet…otherwise I would have.’

  ‘Vain cow. And it shouldn’t be of any interest to you what he means,’ she said, with one of her superior Miss Piggy hair flicks, as she called them.