There was a gentle knock on the door of the room, Fredericks stood up to open the door and Alison was brought into the room. She looked tired and irritable, perhaps she wanted to remain in the Larkhill area for a few more days. Alison had not met Gaskin or Waverly before and after being introduced to them she naturally turned to face the old man and waited to be introduced to him. Gaskin was standing next to Alison and gestured towards Tom and said, “Mrs Gordon you may not realise it, but you know this gentleman. He is Tom Brooker.” Tom smiled and offered his hand to Alison. She looked down at his hand, hesitated then put her hands on the old man’s shoulders and kissed him gently on both cheeks. “Tom? Is that really you? Do you remember me?” she said.
Tom laughed a gentle mocking sort of laugh and replied. “Oh, Alison, I am so sorry about dear James. Did they tell you that James has gone further back in time than me?” Alison nodded and then she stared at Tom and she hardly blinked as she looked him up and down. “Tom, did you have a beard and longer hair until recently?” She did not wait for a reply. “You’re Charlie. That was you, all along. If only we had known.” Tom reached out and held her hand. “There is something that you need to know and I hope that you will understand why I could not break my cover until now. I am James’ father. Mary Gordon and I were lovers all those years ago.” Alison had to sit down.
Tom needed a way of seeing his son from time to time without drawing attention or suspicion and decided to invent the character of Charlie. He had to stop shaving and grow a very bushy beard and he kept his hair quite long. He felt sure that this would stop anyone from seeing any resemblance between the old man Charlie and Tom. Charlie managed to bump into James from time to time and even met Alison. Slowly, but surely the Gordons accepted that there was an old chap living somewhere nearby whom they would occasionally bump into and to whom they would be polite and sometimes exchange pleasantries. Charlie continued his gambling and his portfolio of properties increased year on year. He had three houses in Christchurch Street, a pair of flats in Elm Park Gardens, a house at the northern end of Drayton Gardens near the pub and a house in Sydney Street at the Kings Road end. He alternated his living between the Drayton Gardens house and his original house in Christchurch Street. Everything else was rented out. Despite his wealth, Charlie was careful not to live a lavish or conspicuous lifestyle. He had no guests in his Drayton Gardens house but would occasionally entertain friends and employees in the Christchurch Street house. He had a simple objective. Once the young Tom Brooker had disappeared, he would reveal his identity to James and enjoy a few happy years with his son.
In the spring of 1980, Charlie received a telephone call from his solicitor, Mike Townsend. Marcus Bridewell, the escrow solicitor, had died suddenly at home. Charlie was not particularly concerned as he did not know him very well but Townsend warned that Bridewell may have left notes concerning Charlie which could be mishandled. Mike Townsend said that he would visit the solicitor’s office and make some discreet enquiries. Nothing came of this and Charlie was told that there should be no cause for concern.
Then in 1985 a small maroon notebook with “Lord C” on the front cover was sold to a successful journalist at the end of a particularly drunken evening with Julian Bridewell. Several days later, the very embarrassed and contrite Julian Bridewell called the family friend Mike Townsend and said that he believed that the maroon notebook had inadvertently been put in the possession of Angus Merchant. Charlie was told and took a very measured view of the situation. He considered a number of options for protecting his identity, including burglary and arson. He even considered trying to introduce himself to MI5, tell them the whole story and get their help. He discounted that option very quickly. Instead, Charlie set out to cross paths with Merchant and try to get as close to him as possible. Charlie employed a private detective to create a complete file on Angus Merchant; it was £500 well spent. He now knew where Merchant lived, his habits, his friends and his weaknesses. Charlie knew that everything would go his way as he remembered that Merchant had still not got anywhere with the story, even just before his own disappearance. Nevertheless, he knew that Charlie and Merchant were friends, after a fashion, and so he continued his efforts to get to know the hack. Merchant had been sacked in 1988 and by the Spring of 1989 he had lost all of his savings and most of his dignity as the alcoholism tightened its grip. Charlie came to his rescue by “finding” a flat for him in Elm Park Gardens for next to nothing in rent. The rent was paid, in cash, to Charlie’s driver whom Merchant was led to believe was an agent for the landlord; which was true of course except that Merchant did not know that Charlie owned the flat.
Tom continued his story and brought his audience up to the present date. “I realised that Merchant was never going to expose me before my journey to 1947. Once Tom had been sent back in time, I knew that I would be free to tell the full story to James and Alison, and so from that point on, Merchant no longer posed a threat. I was instrumental in ruining Merchant’s life, encouraging his drinking, and now I felt that I should help to get him straight. As Tom’s disappearance came closer, I contrived a big betting win for Merchant that would buy his ticket to recovery. I assume that he’s still there now.” By now it was nearly 5pm and Gaskin ordered a 5 minute break to give everyone a chance to stretch their legs. When they resumed there was a fresh pot of tea and some rather tired looking sandwiches on the table in the middle of the room. Gaskin got things going again. “Tom, were you ever tempted or did you ever try to change the course of history in any way?”
Tom put his tea cup down and responded. “At first I was very cautious and did not believe that the world that I found myself in was necessarily identical to the one that I had come from. After my various betting successes and other things in the news I was convinced that the two worlds were the same. This gave me more confidence as far as the gambling went, but I had no idea what might become of me. For all I knew, the transportation in time might have caused some dreadful disease or I might suddenly be whipped back to the Dagger building. It was only when I had put Mary and James into Eaton Terrace and I realised that the house number was the same as the one that had been recorded in the two maroon notebooks, that I had more insight into my own part in things. I realised then that I was James Gordon’s father but I did not realise that I was to become Charlie until much later. I was standing in front of a mirror one day and saw the beard and long hair and the penny dropped as I recognised the character staring back at me. From that moment, I felt free to introduce myself as Charlie to any and everyone.” Tom paused and reached for the hand of Alison who was sitting next to him. “I really wish that I could have been invited in as a friend by James and Alison, but despite every effort I made I was unable to make it happen. I could not change the events that I had already witnessed as Tom. Charlie was always to be that silly old fool, that occasional acquaintance, someone to pass the time of day with, if there was nothing better to do.”
Alison visibly winced as she realised that she had been part of the society that had kept Charlie in his place. “Tom, I am so sorry. Why didn’t you say something?” she said. Tom smiled. “What could I say? You would have thought me an absolute nutcase if I had told you the truth. Anyway, I soon realised that every time I tried to change the course of history I would be thwarted. There was one time though when I tried my utmost.
My father had been to Tom’s graduation at the Albert Hall and I knew that shortly after this, he killed himself. I went to the Albert Hall that day and waited for him and Tom to emerge from the hall on the northern side. I thought about confronting him in Tom’s presence but thought it better to tackle him alone. A brilliant opportunity arose. He was trying to hail a taxi to take him to Waterloo Station and I managed to hail one first and I offered him a lift which he accepted. Luckily, Tom had returned to the graduation party and did not see me at all.
In the taxi I chatted to my father. He, of course, thought that I was a stranger. I then threw away caution and told him that I knew that
he was considering suicide. He was completely dumbstruck and I told him how much this would hurt his son Tom, and how much better it would be to let the divorce go through and begin a new chapter in his life. He finally managed to open his mouth and by now was convinced that I was an angel from heaven, sent by God; how else could I know so much? We then had a wonderful conversation with no inhibition on his part whatsoever and by the time we arrived at Waterloo, I was convinced that I had succeeded in persuading him not to end his own life.” Tom paused again and took a sip of his now cold tea. “I was wrong. And even to this day I cannot be sure, but I have a vague recollection that in his suicide note he made mention of being at peace with God and how he knew that we would one day be together in Heaven. Perhaps, I will be able to find the note amongst Tom’s stuff in the flat. Anyway, after this I knew that I could not change anything, no matter how hard I tried.”
Gaskin had heard enough and he knew that he would need to brief the head of MI5 within the hour. He suspected that he would be accompanying his boss to 10 Downing Street that evening. Alfred was instructed to ensure that Alison and Tom were fully aware of the need for absolute secrecy and that they would both have to sign the Official Secrets Act. This amused Tom as it was the third time that he had been made to sign the Act. Gaskin spoke, “We know that Tom disappeared just a few days, ago but Charlie is an established part of the community now. I would suggest that we refer to you as Charlie as it is less likely to lead to any confusion and may also protect us from compromise. Can you accept this Tom?” Gaskin stood up and Charlie also got to his feet. “Yes, I see the sense of it and besides, I am Charlie and have been him longer than I was ever Tom.” Gaskin reached across the table and shook hands with Charlie. “We will create a cover story that Tom has had a tragic accident.” He then made his exit.
---oooOOOooo---
Charlie and Alison were asked if they needed either medical or spiritual help but both declined. They were also asked to return the following morning at 10am and be prepared for more questions. By 6pm, they were escorted to the ground floor and they made their way out of the building. Charlie made a call to his driver who appeared with the Bentley within a minute. They got in and Charlie instructed the driver to take them to the Gordons’ flat. They did not discuss the day’s events in the car but chatted about all sorts of things that Alison would never have dreamt of discussing with dear old Charlie before now. As they arrived outside the Gordons’ flat Charlie said, “I have a house at the north end of Drayton Gardens. Will you join me for supper? I will walk down and pick you up at 8 o’clock.” Alison smiled and replied. “Yes please, Charlie.”
Charlie let himself into his house and stood for nearly a minute leaning back against the front door in its frame. “God,” he thought, “now I am in uncharted territory.” For most of the past 55 years, since arriving from the Beast, he had a confident view of his own future. He knew that, as Tom, he had last seen Charlie about 2 weeks ago and so he had been reasonably assured of his future at least until that moment. Now, after a tiring day deep underground at Thames House, he had to come to terms with the sudden end to his dream of a few precious years with his son. His life, once ordered and mapped out for him, was now full of uncertainty. What period in his life could he look back upon with happiness or pride? As Tom, he had endured the bickering of his parents and the loneliness of an only child. He still carried the guilt of his father’s suicide and frequently found himself questioning whether he could have done more to prevent it. Then when he had charge of the golden goose of “little gems” he had failed to find true happiness. He had failed in his duty to Mary, he had brought tragedy to the Yardleys, and never came close to being a father to his son, James. Now it was the thought of his widowed daughter-in-law that gave him some strength and a sense of duty.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He rarely had callers and was certainly not expecting anyone now. “What if it is Angus?” he thought. Then, despite everything that he had been told by Gaskin he suddenly thought, “James, he’s here.” He grabbed at the door handle and wrenched the door open. His heart sank as he recognised Alfred standing on the door step. “Hello Alfred. You surprised me. Would you like to come in?” Charlie ushered Alfred in and closed the front door again. “Do go through to the drawing room, through that door there.” Alfred did as he was told and was made to sit down. “Now, how come we are together again so soon? Did I forget something? Can I get you a drink?” Charlie crossed the room to the drinks cabinet beneath the window. “Would a G and T be okay?” Charlie asked. “Do you want bio degradable tonic or the real thing?” Charlie saw the curious look on Alfred’s face and so added, “slimline or proper tonic?” Alfred laughed. “Oh, the real thing please, Charlie. Mr Gaskin came back from the meeting with the Head of MI5 and told me that you had to have an escort at all times and so here I am.”
Charlie had poured gin and tonics for them both. He passed one to Alfred and then sat down on the armchair opposite Alfred on the sofa. “How on earth did you know where I lived?” he asked. Alfred smiled, “I had already decided to have you and Mrs Gordon followed and so it was all rather easy. Now if you object to my company, I can sit in a car outside but I would rather be in here if you don’t mind.” Charlie was glad of the company and actually quite liked Alfred. “I will not consign you to your car. I am not that cruel. But I will need to solicit your help as I have invited Alison Gordon to supper. I thought that I could cheer her up and I am sure that she will lift my spirits too. Perhaps you could lay the dining table for three whilst I nuke the curry.” Charlie showed Alfred where the cutlery and napkins were kept and then transferred the curry from the freezer to the microwave to defrost. Alfred laughed. “Now I understand. You put things in the microwave and nuke them.” Alfred had noticed that Charlie had many of the mannerisms and vocabulary of someone much younger. “Did you ever get yourself into trouble by using terms or referring to things that were not consistent with the era that you were in?”
Charlie took a sip of his gin and tonic. “Oh it happened all the time, but most of the time the odd slip went unnoticed. Enid Yardley kept a list of my silly sayings, as she called them. She had noted my reference to films, actors, songs and pop groups long before their time. I used to go on and on about the dreadful lavatory paper and I told her how much nicer it might be to have soft paper. She never believed that I was prophesising and always thought that I occasionally went soft in the head. I sang a Beatles song to her one evening and she said that I should try and make a go of being a song writer. Life was so different in those early post-war years. There was no kitchen roll, no snappy wrappy and people did not have deodorant. Fred and Enid had two children, twin boys. I remember their pictures on the mantelpiece above the fire. They were just old enough to join the RAF in Spring of 1944 and were both killed later that year. I remember when Enid told me about them and she said that it was only after the war had ended that she felt the full grief of losing her boys. Her street was full of war widows and parents who had lost children. Every household had its story to tell, everyone had some share of the horror and loss that the war had brought. Poor old Enid, she had a very sad retirement after Fred was killed.” Alfred wanted to lighten the mood and needed an explanation. “Charlie, what is snappy wrappy?”
Charlie laughed and beamed a most charming smile. “I really don’t know where it came from, but it is what I call Cling Film – the stuff you wrap your sandwiches in. In post war Britain, you wrapped your sandwiches in grease proof paper and I am convinced that the lavatory paper was made in the same factory. Oh, the other thing that took a lot of getting used to was the concept of bath night just once a week. The whole nation took a bath on Sunday evening, on Monday the laundry was done and on Friday everyone ate fish and I do mean everyone. There always seemed to be a Sunday roast, even though for some it was sausage meat or Spam. The remains were served cold with the fried up left over mashed potatoes on Monday and if there was still more left over it ended
up in sandwiches or, if you were lucky, as a curry. Can you imagine a nation that somehow had managed to synchronise its bathing, clothes washing and eating. Boy, life is easier now.” Charlie looked at his watch. “I have to go and fetch Alison now. Shall we go together?” As they walked down the street Charlie explained how he had hoped to have had more to do with the Gordons. “I bought my house knowing that one day I would be a near neighbour of James and Alison. It was silly really as I already knew how James felt about dear old Charlie from conversations he had had with me before I went to 1947. I still tried, but maybe I was just a bit too old. God, how I was tempted to say something to James.”
As Alfred and Charlie entered the covered approach to the front of the Gordons’ block of flats, Charlie noticed Alfred give a nod to someone in a car across the road. He said nothing but thought that he would mention it later. Charlie rang the bell and Alison pressed the door release buzzer. Charlie and Alfred took the lift to the second floor and arrived as Alison was locking her front door. “Oh, two escorts. Are we being marched back to your headquarters Alfred?” Alison asked. “No Ma’am. I’m Charlie’s minder for a day or two, just until everything settles down.” They walked the few hundred yards back to Charlie’s house. Charlie walked next to Alison but on the road side, as any gentleman should, and Alfred brought up the rear.
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