Cherry Picking

by Tim Heath

  They spent thirty minutes over the sea with only short periods over land either side. Nigel would time things well so that they were well on their way back before things were to explode. Coming into land at another private and more importantly empty airport just a few miles in from the coast, they came to a stop having made good progress. The runway was still in good condition though it was not used much any more, this being only the second time Nigel had ever come there by air. The airport dated back to the Second World War, the kind the Germans used to send bomber squadrons out over Britain. Now the buildings stood empty and run down, but for one hangar that had been kept in reasonable condition, as the occasional event was held not far from there. The world’s elite who liked to fly into such functions, preferred to do so on the quiet, which is where this place excelled, so far away was it from even the nearest home, let alone village, that an aircraft could land without anyone really noticing.

  The crew got the doors open and the steps in place and Nigel was helped out of his seat, bag in hand. Everything he now needed was in it, except of course the bomb, which had been safely attached during the flight. They got onto the tarmac, which was beginning to show its age in places, cracks appearing and grass even growing through in patches.

  The crew looked around, alarmed still by its barrenness, thinking it a little strange that no one was there waiting for him, wondering if the old man had simply forgotten to arrange a pick up.

  Nigel instead took his stick from one of the ladies who held it out for him, and started making his way to the hangar, where he’d left a car which he hoped was still there. He paused a few metres away, turned and told them that he would be all right and that they should leave right away. After a slight hesitation, they followed orders as usual and were back up the steps in a moment. The steps themselves were then pulled back into place and as Nigel reached the doors to the hangar, the jet was racing down the runway and into the sky. Nigel glanced at it one last time, aware that in about twenty minutes it would no longer exist.

  **********

  It was early evening by the time Tommy arrived home. Hearing the keys in the door, Jessica jumped up, excusing herself for a moment from Robert’s company, and went to greet him, clearly wanting to talk to him before he walked in on their little gathering.

  Robert sat there patiently, quite at ease now, and he could hear that they were talking eagerly in the hallway, the occasional raised voice breaking their heated whispering. It was five minutes before they re-entered the room, Tommy leading as Robert rose to greet him, his look giving nothing away.

  Robert looked different from how he’d imagined, having only spoken to him on the telephone on that one occasion. Tommy however had heard a bit about him, including what Jessica had just told him. It was crazy, of course, completely impossible and somehow Robert had got his Jessica thinking it was real. But he remained calm, taking Robert’s hand and greeting him warmly, not knowing if the replica swords that hung as decoration on the wall were now a good idea, with someone so clearly unstable, in the room. He pushed the thought from his mind and sat down, Jessica walking into the kitchen, closing the door, to prepare some drinks, but more importantly she wanted him to have some time with Robert.

  When Jessica came in ten minutes later, far longer than it would actually take to make the tea that she carried on a shiny metal tray, Tommy was actually quite relaxed, he’d started to completely change his view on Robert. He hadn’t been unreasonable in his logic and Tommy was kind of worried that what he was hearing was now even sounding believable, even though it was so way out.

  Once she’d poured them all a drink into clean cups that were sitting on the tray alongside another plate of biscuits, which again she didn’t touch, she was actually a great help, going over much of what she’d been told, clearly for Tommy’s benefit, but Robert liked that. In truth she didn’t know what to make of it either and had it been some elaborate hoax, someone must have fed Robert some amazingly personal and accurate information because he had their thoughts, dreams and even frustrations down to the finest detail.

  She’d had time to think by now and some major points of conflict were coming up.

  “Okay, Robert,” she finally said, her head coming up, her brown eyes looking straight into his, Robert could tell she had something weighty on her mind.

  “What I’m finding hard to work out, among other things, is that if what you are saying is true, and this man had come back from the future, just as you say you had, why didn’t you stop something like 9/11 from happening, because clearly if what you have told us is true, then you’d have been well aware of it and even if this man didn’t do anything about it because of the selfish and evil reasons you have told us, couldn’t you have?”

  Tommy looked with interest at how Robert would answer such a question, waiting for him to crack, which would be Tommy’s sign to get up and throw the nut-case out of the house himself. Robert instead sat there calmly and smiled.

  “There are two points that I need to mention here. Firstly, I came back here only around two months ago, give or take a week. It has felt like a lifetime though, I can tell you. But my other point, and I hope it highlights what I am saying clearly, is that two or three months ago, before all this happened, the last time I checked those two towers were standing beautifully as always in the heart of New York City!”

  Jessica and Tommy looked confused. Robert thought for a moment and then said.

  “What I am saying, is that only since coming back, something Nigel has done led to that event happening.”

  “So you’re saying he did it?” Jessica said

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying exactly, but what I am saying is that as a result of his coming back and doing all the things he did in his early days and beyond, some of which we know and some of which we do not, there were many major changes in the world, the act of terrorism on September 11th 2001 being an example. Another example is the world economic melt down that hit everyone, it now seems, in the last few years of the last decade. That was news to me when I got here. Most of the companies, banks and not to mention governments that now seem to have disappeared, had gone on for many more years, even if some of them were not still around in my time.

  “Now I must say, to a much lesser degree admittedly, that the same has been true the other way round. This man calling himself Nigel Gamble acted only for reasons of personal gain but maybe his claim that he did some good was occasionally true because of some of the things he stopped. One recent example was a guy that was arrested for a murder of a colleague, you may have heard about him — Terrance Goldman. The murder was aimed at stopping me on many counts, but mainly because the victim, Simon Allen, went on to found the Agency that I worked for and his death, as I found out, meant no Agency, at least not in the same way as it had been. But the man arrested for the crime and then conveniently killed was to become the worst child killer in the country’s history, not being caught until he was well into his sixties, a sick evil man that had murdered hundreds and wrecked the lives of so many more. Think of what his death now means to his would-be victims. They’ll now all grow up, their families intact. Maybe they’ll be the next world leaders, or pop stars, footballers or artists. They get to live because their murderer was dealt with. Now isn’t that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard!” Robert said, realising how serious the conversation had got, as they both sat in front of him, Tommy’s mouth slightly open, a look of puzzlement appearing on Jessica’s face now as well.

  Robert reached for a cup, deliberately taking his time to drink it, allowing them time to process what he’d just said. He then wondered to himself what Jessica’s other point or points were, but maybe in fact he’d already answered them. Opening her mouth to speak, he quickly realised he had not, and with a slight quiver to her voice now, emotion leaking through with every word, clearly the thought having been growing and festering in her heart since they’d discussed it an hour or so ago, she asked him the main thing now on her mind.


  “You told me earlier about my other life, answering all my questions, but you never mentioned anything about my, about…,” she glanced at Tommy, aware that she hadn’t really told him anything about this side of their earlier conversation, “about our children? What are you not telling me?”

  Tears were almost in her eyes now and she put a hand to her cheek to try and cover the fact. Realising he had no other option, Robert said gently:

  “Your situation brought great strength to hundreds of thousands of couples. I honestly don’t know the details but I know you are…,” he’d caught what he’d said, “were not able to have children.”

  It was too late as she’d picked up already what he was about to say, Jessica jumping to her feet in distress, tears no longer able to be held back and she walked into the kitchen to hide her sorrow. Such news was hard to take at the best of times but hearing it now, completely unprepared and yet being told in effect they were infertile made it a hundred times worse.

  Tommy sat there speechless, a little unsure of what had been discussed earlier but slowly working it out, before following Jessica into the kitchen to comfort her. When she had calmed somewhat, Tommy returned to Robert who was just sitting in the same position, waiting. In the thirty minutes that followed, with Jessica off in her own world dealing with the news, Robert filled in some of the blanks for Tommy as he sat there quietly, mainly listening, with the odd question from time to time, amazed now himself by what he was hearing. It made so much sense, yet inside he still battled with the feeling that it was just all too crazy to believe.

  Chapter 28

  As soon as he got to the hangar, Nigel decided to ditch the walking stick which for so long had been his public companion. After all these years of bending over a little to add to the picture of the old man that he wanted everyone to think he was, he’d developed a permanent ache that he hoped would correct itself. Enjoying being able to stand tall and move freely, he got one of the big hangar doors open. For the first time he realised that he was very much alone now, a feeling that he had never really had before, always aware as he was that there were people around. Even if they were on the outside and he couldn’t see them, they were there nonetheless, his permanent shield and protection. And yet he felt freer now than he had in a long time. This was the first time in two decades that he had been anywhere other than his own walled garden without his disguise, the release in this he now felt was electric and he wanted to run around and shout, for the fun of it. He gathered himself together though and walked inside the hangar, the cool undisturbed air having a slight smell to it that took a little adjusting to, his eyes also adjusting to the dimness that now met him, the high windows letting surprisingly little light into the place.

  Over on the very far wall of the mainly empty hangar under a thick covering, sat his car, left there several years ago when he’d spent some time around the area. He’d figured that transport from there might one day be a help and having flown out of there on that occasion it made sense to leave the car there for such a time as this.

  The keys had never left his person and taking them out of his pocket, he reached down and pulled the covers off the car, some old carpet he’d found lying around that he’d put to better use. The car, though not shining as the carpet had left quite a lot of dirt on it, was still in a very good condition, a classic Mercedes from the home of that famous car.

  Nigel got into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. To his delight, the car started first time and he pulled away slowly, smoke pumping out from the exhaust as the car cleared its pipes. It was surely glad to go for a run again and it would have plenty of opportunity since Nigel had some miles to cover that day. He was hoping to make it the whole way before midnight, an ambitious target at the best of times.

  Some time later, on yet another quiet but fast road, still about two hours from the house, with the clock showing just after half eleven, Nigel pulled in at a small guest house. He had decided to get his head down there for the night, as the increasing rain had made progress slow. On the dark unlit country roads, he’d made several wrong turns already as it had been some time since he’d last driven that way, his memory at that time of night just not quite working fast enough.

  It was an old house, its beautiful features still very much intact, as Nigel opened the door to the small reception area, surprised to still see anyone there. There had only been two other cars in the parking area, and though his German wasn’t that good, he’d known enough to read that they still had vacancies.

  Twenty minutes later he was being shown into his room and he fell into bed sometime later, sleeping better than he had done in a long time.

  **********

  It was also getting late in the Lawrence household, Robert having been invited to stay for dinner, when over discussions it was found out that he had nowhere else to go that night. It was Tommy who actually offered him a room there, which Robert was happy to accept.

  This had given them more time to chat. Jessica had regained control of her emotions, apologising many times to Robert for her outburst, Robert repeatedly saying that she had nothing to be sorry for as of course it was hard to hear.

  What Jessica had also found hard were the contrasts between her two lives, as she now viewed them, as if all the hurt and pain was with her in this life whereas her previous one, it seemed, was filled with the opposite, indeed in that one she reached and surpassed all the things that now she only dreamed of.

  Robert had deliberately not mentioned anything about the plane crash that had killed Tommy and effectively therefore her also, an incident she never really recovered from, the emotional hurt of losing him doing far more damage than the physical scars which had themselves kept her in hospital for such a long time after the crash.

  There was no way of balancing these things out though. Robert tried, unsuccessfully, to tell her that what he had told them was just one way things had worked out and what they now had was just another way, both of equal value, nothing being taken away from what they now had compared to the previous way things had been. That of course held no ground in Jessica’s mind, having been amazed to hear of Hollywood films, worldwide stardom and all the good that they’d been involved in together. And after all that, the one sadness and tragedy that there seemed to be from that other life, the only downside, her infertility, clearly would also now be the same for her there, even if she had only just found out about it.

  Robert, on a different tack altogether and therefore rather more successfully, had then gone on to paint them as the victims in this whole thing with Nigel. Their very success and popularity were the specific reason why they were targeted in such a way, something working in the mind of Nigel Gamble that said he didn’t want to see them happy, or successful, unless it was for him. This is when the anger had started to bubble inside Jessica, helped no doubt by the fine bottles of French wine they’d got through over the evening, her emotions reaching a new level of disgust, but this time focused on the one man who had portrayed himself as a friend, as a rock, her new father figure. He’d made himself available at all her vulnerable times and yet all along he was this snake, this poisonous viper of a man who had caused her all her harm, bringing down her father’s business, killing him and then messing with her ever since — in a frantic run of emotions, in which she was almost spitting her words out in a performance that would have impressed any cinema audience, she now had fixed all her anger on the one man she could actually get to — Brendan Charles.

  **********

  The following morning Brendan had awoken on the sofa in his lounge, quite unaware why he was there, but the pain now thumping in his head quickly reminded him that he’d got home late, having felt so overcome by events of the previous day, he’d gone out drinking by himself after work and had somehow made it home. He didn’t even remember getting in, and the fact that he was still fully dressed probably meant he had just fallen asleep down there, clearly not wanting his wife to see him like that, that is
if he had even thought about her, with the amount of alcohol he must have consumed.

  He wasn’t a big drinker but had been known on rare occasions to hit the bottle hard, some learned behaviour from his youth when binge drinking in the UK had got out of hand and now much of his generation was dying early in their 40s and 50s from liver disease. Somehow he was among the lucky minority that seemed to have escaped, so far.

  It was just before seven, the light filtering through the trees at the back of his garden, their leaves starting to fall now, the lounge curtains having not been closed the night before. The light only made his head feel worse and Brendan made his way with difficulty into the kitchen and hunted through the medicine drawer, searching out something strong enough to lessen the pounding now going on in his head.

  And only then did he realise that the feeling was still with him, that sickening feeling of failure, of emptiness, of defeat. Having been made to turn on Robert, given no choice as he had seen it, things had been made easy and yet had gone so wrong with yet another victim, the woman in the lift who would remain unknown as the body had already been destroyed. He was a trapped man, with nowhere to go. On the one side he had Nigel, this puppeteer who for too long had had so much power and influence over him, and now had more power than ever, holding the very lives of his wife and three children, not to mention millions of others, in his hands and only rewarding Brendan with rescue once Robert was killed.