by Jason Ayres
She could see that Anna was clearing away some of the uneaten food from the lunchtime session, but McVie was having none of it.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said, as Anna removed a crusty, dried-up fish cake from the glass cabinets with a pair of tongs, and turned to put it in the bin.
“These have been here all afternoon,” replied Anna in her perfect English. “The cabinets have been switched off for two hours.”
“I know,” replied McVie. “I switched them off. Do you know how much electricity those things burn? Now put that back in there right now. That’s pure profit you’re throwing in the bin there – profit that keeps me in business and you in a job.
Reluctantly, Anna complied, but added, “What about health and safety?”
“Bollocks to health and safety,” replied McVie. “Cook some fresh ones and hide that one back in among them. Then make sure you give that one to some old pensioner. If it is dodgy and they end up croaking, no one will get suspicious. It’ll just get blamed on the cold weather. They drop like flies at this time of year.”
Kay stood watching this exchange, unnoticed by McVie who was still facing away from her. She caught Anna’s eye, who gave her a resigned look as she reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, McVie poked around in the bin.
“What else have you chucked in here?” he asked. Then he pulled out a jumbo sausage.
“What are you doing throwing this away? There’s nothing wrong with this. Two quid, these sell for. You can put that back, too.”
“It’s dirty,” said Anna.
McVie pulled a piece of blue tissue paper from a roll behind the counter, and turned, wiping down the sausage. “There. It’s as good as new.”
As he spoke, he caught sight of Kay for the first time.
“Here you are, why don’t you sell it to this bitch? She likes getting her lips round a big sausage, from what I’ve heard. Tell you what, since I know you’re hard up, missy, you can have it for half-price.”
Kay was in no mood to be trifled with.
“Do the food and hygiene people know you sell food out of the bin?” she asked.
“Why, are you going to tell them?” said McVie, leaning over the counter towards her, aggressively. “Take a look at the front door, darling. Five-star hygiene rating, that’s what I’ve got here. Who are they going to believe – me, a respectable local business owner, or you, some drunken slag with barely two pennies to rub together?”
Kay could easily have lost her rag with him right there and then, but she forced herself to play it cool. She needed to hold onto her flat for a couple more days, just long enough for her to take another trip or two. If all went according to plan, he could stick his flat after that.
“Forget it,” she said, resisting the temptation to tell him to shove the jumbo sausage up his arse, Kent-style. “I’m going upstairs.”
“Don’t forget I want that rent by tomorrow night,” he said. “Or the electricity goes off and you’ll be eating raw Bernard Matthews turkey roll for your Christmas dinner.”
“Whatever,” said Kay, opening the door at the back of the shop and swiftly closing it again behind her. What a disgusting excuse for a human being McVie was. She may have to think of a way of sorting him out, too, once she had dealt with Alan.
She was tired out by her recent adventures and the long day at work, so she decided to get her head down for an hour and have a power nap. It was an apt description. Never in her life had she had any real power, but now she had plenty. The gift the angel had given her was potentially more powerful than any position or amount of money if she used it wisely.
If she did manage to pull off her audacious plan, she may soon be enjoying a siesta as opposed to a power nap. Technically that’s what this was, being a sleep in the afternoon, but she could hardly call an hour in a freezing cold flat in pitch darkness a siesta. It was a far cry from snoozing in the Spanish sun on a baking afternoon.
As she drifted off to sleep, she vowed to herself soon she would be there, enjoying her time in the sun. As soon as all this was over, she intended to get herself off to the Canaries for some much-needed winter warmth. Such a trip was completely out of the question in her current perilous financial position, but that situation was something she intended to change.
She awoke after an hour or so and began to prepare herself to go out. Kent had promised to meet her in the pub to talk about the trip she had just taken and she was feeling very excited about it.
She wasn’t going to hold back any information about her day and she hoped he would do the same. It would be fascinating to see what similarities and differences there had been between there two experiences.
Feeling refreshed and happy, she prepared to leave the flat, full of anticipation for the night ahead.
Chapter Twelve
December 2018
At 8.30pm she walked into the bar of The Red Lion to be greeted by an unholy cacophony of noise coming from the back of the pub. Some fat, dark-haired woman she didn’t recognise in her thirties was belting out a truly awful rendition of an old Abba song.
The pub was very busy for a Sunday, but then it was only two days until Christmas. There was quite a crowd gathered around the DJ booth at the far end of the dance floor where, despite the bad singing, it seemed the karaoke was going down a storm. As the woman finished her song, she was met by a huge round of applause. The audience was clearly tone-deaf, drunk, or both.
“Wow, what a performance!” announced the DJ, a rotund man in his late-forties with thickset glasses. “I don’t know how we’re going to top that, but we’ll give it a go! Next up, please can we have The Three Drunken Twats?”
Amid much laughing, three young lads headed up to the stage. There was plenty of festive spirit around tonight, it seemed.
Kay made her way over to the bar. Andy was there, talking to his mate, Nobby, who as always was immaculately dressed and groomed. He was the only person Kay had ever seen wearing a suit in the pub. There was no sign of Kent. When Kay got to the bar, Craig greeted her much more enthusiastically than usual. It made a welcome change. He had been a right miserable sod recently.
“What do you think of the karaoke, then?” he asked. “I told you it would be a winner. I’m thinking of having it every Sunday.”
“I bloody hope not,” interrupted Nobby. “Because if you do I’ll be drinking elsewhere. That last woman was dreadful. Her voice was like squeaky chalk on a blackboard. And now listen to this lot!”
The lads who had formed the impromptu group called The Three Drunken Twats had embarked on a rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”. It sounded more like it was being sung from the terraces at Old Trafford than over a microphone. Everyone watching was in hysterics, especially when one of them made an obscene gesture in relation to the line “Five gold rings”.
“Well, I think it’s quite funny,” said Kay, who wasn’t averse to the odd spot of karaoke. “I may even have a go myself after a few drinks. Speaking of which…”
As she had been speaking, she had pulled a tenner out of her purse and handed it to Craig who had already poured her a double vodka as soon as he had seen her heading towards the bar.
“You did want the usual, I take it?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. She would have to resist the temptation to knock it straight back. She would have to make it last. This tenner was all the money she had left in the world for the time being.
“Can you fill it up to the top with Coke,” she asked. That would make it last a bit longer.
“No problem,” replied Craig.
“Have you seen Richard tonight?” she asked him, trying to say it quietly so that Andy wouldn’t hear.
“Who’s Richard?” replied Craig, turning back towards her, vodka and Coke in hand. It was the second time today she had received that response. Was she the only person in the world who knew his first name? Why did people only ever refer to him by his surname? She thought it was rather rude. He deserved bette
r.
“Sorry, I mean Kent,” said Kay.
“He hasn’t been in yet,” said Craig. “Listen, why don’t you put your name down for the karaoke? Even this idiot here is having a go.” He gesticulated towards Andy.
“Less of the idiot, if you don’t mind,” replied Andy.
“You are an idiot,” said Craig, but then added, almost affectionately, “but you’re our idiot.”
He really was in a good mood. She couldn’t remember him ever saying anything nice about Andy before. But that was down to the generally happy atmosphere in the pub tonight. Andy seemed happy with Craig’s response and turned back round to continue his conversation with Nobby.
“Yeah, I’ll give it a go,” said Kay to Craig.
“Go over and see Jason, the DJ, and put your name down ASAP, then,” said Craig. “There’s quite a waiting list by the looks of things.”
Kay took her drink and wandered over to the stage area by the DJ booth where The Three Drunken Twats had just finished their song to great acclaim from the crowd. She waited patiently while the DJ blathered on in a lame attempt at a stand-up comedy routine prior to calling up the next singer.
It was a young girl next whom she recognised as Lauren, a short, dark-haired girl with a cheeky grin and jet black hair styled in a bob. She was wearing an extremely low-cut, black top that left very little to the imagination.
Kay observed the crowd’s reaction with amusement as the lively young girl began to sing. The assembled group of lads watching had eyes on stalks as Lauren launched into the old Katy Perry number, “I Kissed a Girl”. She played up very suggestively to the crowd, boobs practically spilling out of her top, and even pulled over a girl friend at one point and gave her a kiss squarely on the lips, sending the boys into a frenzy.
She knows how to get male attention, thought Kay, wistfully remembering how it had once been like that for her. She hoped Lauren would have more luck with men in the long run than she had.
Kay managed to get the DJ’s attention and gave him her song choice, then turned back to the bar where she was thrilled to see that Kent had now arrived and was standing with the others.
She rushed straight back over to the bar to see him, a move that wasn’t unnoticed by Andy.
“Here comes your girlfriend,” remarked Andy to Kent. “I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes when your missus finds out.”
“Shut up, Andy,” said Kent. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taking his freshly poured pint of bitter, he said to Kay, “Come on, let’s go somewhere we can talk.”
“Another cosy chat in the corner, is it?” called Andy after them. “This is getting to be a bit of a habit.”
They ignored him and moved to the table at the front of the pub where they had sat the previous evening, far enough away from the karaoke to be able to hear each other speak without shouting.
“I don’t want to be too long,” said Kent. “Debs wasn’t too happy about me coming out tonight, but I had to find out how it went. Tell me all about it.”
Kay described in detail the events of the previous day. Kent listened, smiling, chuckling and commenting at certain points.
“I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when you told Glen where to get off,” he said. “Has he really only got a four-inch cock? That’s hilarious!”
“I’m afraid so,” she replied. “No wonder he used to show off so much: it was probably his way of compensating for his inadequacies down there.”
“That’s made my day, that has,” said Kent.
“I thought it would,” said Kay, resisting the temptation to say, “Yours was much bigger.” That might have been interpreted as flirting which she was trying to cut out.
Later he exclaimed, “I loved Old Orleans!” as Kay described their day out in Oxford. “I really miss that place. They used to do amazing cocktails.”
At the end of her story, she didn’t hold anything back. As she described what had happened when they had gone back to his room, she held his gaze, looking into his eyes just as she had with her younger self in his bed.
But this was an older Kent, and a different Kent. He broke her gaze, looking nervously down into his drink.
“What’s the matter?” she said. “Didn’t the same happen when you went back to relive that day?”
“Yes,” he admitted, almost furtively. “But it’s different for you. You’re single now. I’m married. It’s still sort of cheating, in a way.”
“But that didn’t bother you when you went back before, did it?” she questioned.
“No, but it was different then. I was going back in my own timeline, to my own youth. I never thought in a million years I’d be sitting here having this conversation with you in the present day. Now that you’ve had the same experience, it somehow makes it more real.”
She could see that she needed to reassure him. “Look, it’s OK,” she said. “You know I fancy you like crazy, always have done, but I respect the fact that you’re married. I’m not a threat to you.”
“You say that now,” replied Kent. “But what about later when you’ve had a few drinks? How many times have you drunkenly tried to lure me back to your flat?”
Kay couldn’t blame him for thinking that based on her past behaviour. What sort of woman had she turned into? She would not have dreamt of messing around with a married man in her youth. She must have acquired a terrible reputation around town.
She knew she had, because the woman who had knocked her teeth out had seen to that. She had named and shamed Kay all over Facebook on the town chat page. Admin had swiftly deleted it, but the damage had been done.
She must stick to the vow she had made a couple of days ago. There must be no more married men, and that included Kent. Despite the way the flame inside her for him was burning as strongly as ever, she knew deep down it could never be. She finally felt that she was able to accept that now. Perhaps the trip to the past had got it out of her system.
They were friends now and that was the next-best thing in a world which had by and large turned against her. She could not risk losing that friendship, especially now, when she could benefit greatly from his help and advice. He had more experience than her of travelling back through time, and she wanted to bounce some more ideas off him.
“You don’t need to worry about that anymore,” she said. “I’ve got it out of my system now, honestly. I just want to be friends.” It hurt having to say these words, but it was the only way if she was to get him to trust her.
He seemed to relax after that and open up a bit, offering some observations on their unusual situation.
“You know, we’ve had a relationship that is probably quite unique in the whole history of the world,” he said.
“How do you mean?” she asked.
“It’s really strange when you think about it,” he said. “We’ve both slept with each other, but we both haven’t, if you get what I mean. I’ve slept with another version of you. You’ve slept with another version of me. But us two here talking right now haven’t slept with each other.”
“Weird, isn’t it?” replied Kay. “But I like it. All these billions of people in the world, and as far as we know, no one else has ever had the same experience.”
“So, now that’s out of the way, what’s next?” asked Kent, clearly keen to hear what she had planned for tomorrow.
“Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” said Kay.
She filled him on the backstory of her break-up with Alan and how he was dragging his heels over the divorce proceedings. She also explained how she believed he had been hiding funds from her and how she planned to use one of her trips to investigate.
“That’s an inspired idea,” said Kent. “After I realised I couldn’t change history, I never really explored the possibility of solving mysteries within my own past. I had enough difficulty doing detective work in the present, to be honest. That’s probably why I am now unemployed.”
“So what’s
the legality of me poking around in his past affairs?” she asked.
“I’m not sure of the exact legal position of it all, that’s more for lawyers than policemen. I do know that opening other people’s emails etc. can be considered an invasion of privacy, but that normally revolves around corporate spying or identity theft. As far as domestic cases go, in all my years in the force, no one ever came into the station and accused their husband or wife of such a thing. Besides, you’ll be in the other universe, so it doesn’t matter even if you do get caught snooping around somewhere you shouldn’t.”
“Sounds like there’s nothing to worry about, then,” said Kay. “I can concentrate on the most important thing, which is to find the evidence in the first place.”
“That’s another thing I meant to bring up – the question of evidence,” replied Kent.
“Go on,” said Kay.
“Well, even if you did find any evidence in the past, as I am sure you must know by now, you can’t bring it back to the present to use against him. It’s difficult to see what you can effectively do.”
“What if I buried it or hid it somewhere, ready for me to dig up when I return?” she asked.
“That wouldn’t work either,” he said. “You go back into Universe 2.0, remember? It wouldn’t be there for you to dig up in Universe 1.0.”
“Of course it wouldn’t,” she said, mentally kicking herself for making such an obvious mistake. “You must think I’m a right numpty for that suggestion.”
“Of course not,” said Kent. “You’re still learning and there’s a lot to get your head around. Time travel is a complicated business. It wasn’t until at least my third trip that I really got to grips with it all. I didn’t even realise you couldn’t change history until after the second. The angel didn’t bother to tell me that and I wasted a whole trip on a fruitless gambling spree thinking I could make myself rich.”
