The Star Agency (The Star Agency Chronicles)

by R. E. Weber

  Theopolis James Logan

  Please open

  He turned the envelope over, slid his finger under the glued down flap and carefully pulled it round until it came free. He opened the envelope and pulled out a single folded sheet of writing paper. Then he unfolded it and began to read the hand written letter.

  Dear Theopolis,

  I hate to keep using your full name, as I know you really don’t like it, but trust me one day you won’t mind so much. It seems so strange to be writing this letter now, knowing that by the time you read it I won’t be around anymore. Yet somehow, strange as this might sound, it’s comforting to think of you perhaps sat on that old sofa, reading my thoughts. Anyway, I digress.

  As you know, I’ve told you lots of stories over the years and I guess you thought that there wasn’t much else left to say. But one day, whilst going through my mother’s things a long time after she had died, I came across this journal and the two lockets. When I opened the journal, I realised that there was a whole new story to tell. My mother you see was a very private woman. Kind, considerate and loving, but very private. Whenever I asked her about the war, she never really said much - just that it was a terrible time and she would rather not talk about it. But when I opened the journal, suddenly there it was – the one chapter of her life that she had hardly ever spoken about. Perhaps she wanted it like this – for me to find it and read it for myself rather than her having to tell me about it. But in any case take a look at the Journal. Be careful though. It’s old and quite fragile and some of the pages are loose. Do have a read. It’s like a window on another world.

  Then there’s a puzzle that I’ve made for you. I’ll leave it with you to work out what it is and what you need to do. But please be careful. Don’t force it open. Give it time and open it when it is supposed to be opened. You’ll know when. It’s one last riddle to ponder.

  And finally, there are just a few keepsakes. Firstly, there are two lockets, which belonged to my parents. Have a look and see where you got your good looks from. It certainly wasn’t me. Then there’s my pocket watch, given to me by my father. It’s a precision timepiece from an era when craftsmanship really meant something. Keep it wound at all times. You never know when you might need it. You can’t always rely on modern technology.

  So here we are at the end. Now you have a new life ahead of you. There’s so much to see, so much to do and so much to feel. There are so many experiences to have and so many people to meet. Don’t waste too much time grieving and never forget to live your life. It’s far too short as it is. And don’t be afraid.

  Finally, don’t be too hard on your poor auntie. She means well and she does care about you, even if she doesn’t always show it. She’s lost so much and hurt for such a long time. But when it came to it, I knew that she was the one to take care of things.

  And so it’s goodbye, Theo. One day, you will know how proud I am of you.

  With Love,

  Grandpa.

  Theo held the letter in his shaking hand, trying to suppress a tear.

  ‘Are you alright, Theo?’ his auntie said, standing in the kitchen doorway with a cup of tea in each hand.

  ‘Yeh I’m fine,’ stuttered Theo. ‘I just… well, I never expected this.’

  ‘Is that a letter from grandpa?’ she said as she sat down beside him.

  ‘Yes, it is. It’s about….’

  ‘No Theo, you don’t need to tell me. It was for you alone. If you really want me to read it, then I will. But otherwise, I’ll leave it for you.’

  ‘Did he leave anything for you?’ said Theo.

  ‘Well he did leave me a few things, but it wasn’t quite the same. Mostly formal stuff about the house and what to do with his belongings. There were a couple of keepsakes, but that was it really.’

  Theo folded the letter back up and put it back in the envelope. Then he put it back in the box, closed the lid and locked it shut.

  ‘I’m going to...’

  ‘Yes I know. You’re going to show Jules, aren’t you?’

  ‘Erm yeh, is that OK?’

  ‘Yes that’s fine. It’s yours, after all. But I’m here if you want to talk later. I just thought you would want to open it on your own in case you…’

  ‘I know,’ interrupted Theo as he rose from the sofa, smiling. ‘I know.’

  *

  ‘Well I suppose that answers one question,’ said Jules, looking up from the letter.

  ‘What’s that?’ replied Theo.

  ‘Well, who sent you the riddles – you know, the trail of breadcrumbs.’

  ‘Does it?’

  ‘Of course, didn’t you read it? One last riddle to ponder.’

  Theo thought for a moment about what First Mentor had said when he’d asked about how the trail had been set up. ‘Do you believe that such rudimentary tasks are somehow beyond our ability, Theo?’ But Jules was hardly going to believe that it had been set up by an advanced alien civilisation.

  ‘Yeh, I suppose. I was just, I mean, I wasn’t thinking about that. I was…’

  ‘Upset?’

  ‘No, not really. It’s just…. oh I don’t know,’ said Theo.

  Jules looked back in the box and lifted out one of the lockets. ‘Do you mind if I…?’

  ‘No, go ahead.’

  Jules held the locket and chain and flipped open the clasp. In the lid, hooked under a small metal loop, was a lock of dark brown hair, and in the base, behind a tiny glass window, was an old, oval, brown tinged photograph of a young woman. She then picked up the other locket and opened that too. It was exactly the same: a lock of hair hooked in the lid and a photograph, this time of a man. She held one in each hand and glanced at one locket first, then at the other, then back to the first. Then she looked back at Theo.

  ‘Your great grandparents I assume?’ said Jules.

  ‘Yeh,’ said Theo.

  ‘You look like him. Your great grandfather I mean.’

  ‘Do I?’ said Theo. ‘I can’t see it.’

  ‘Yeh. Same eyes and nose.’

  ‘Yeh, but I’ve got better hair,’ said Theo, pointing to the brylcreamed side parting’

  ‘At least he combed his,’ said Jules.

  ‘Ha,’ said Theo. ‘Mine doesn’t need it.’

  ‘But seriously mate, you do look like him, really.’

  ‘Maybe, I don’t know.’

  Jules just smiled and closed the lockets. Then she popped them back in the box.

  ‘So what’s the deal with the watch then?’ said Jules.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Theo. ‘It’s just an old pocket watch. He doesn’t really say much about it other than it belonged to his dad.’

  ‘I wonder if it still works?’ said Jules.

  Theo lifted the pocket watch out of the box and looked at it. There was a large winder at the top with a loop through it. He flipped up the brass lid to look at the watch face. The glass cover was lightly scratched in places, but otherwise it was in quite good condition. The watch face had the usual hands for hours and minutes, with roman numerals at five minute intervals except for where six o’clock should have been. There instead, was another miniature dial with a tiny hand in the middle. None of the hands were moving. Clearly the watch hadn’t been touched for years.

  Theo folded down the loop at the top, gripped the large winder gently between his fingers and began to turn. It took a couple of minutes pulling it up and down, then turning it left and right, but eventually he was able to set it to the correct time and wind it up. Then he looked back at the watch face. The tiny hand on the small dial at the bottom was now spinning round counting down the seconds, and the minute hand was crawling slowly from one minute to the next.

  ‘It still works, J,’ said Theo, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  ‘Great,’ said Jules sarcastically. ‘Because you haven’t got any other watches, have you?’

  Theo thought about the three other watches in his top drawer, two of which were hand me downs from his grandfather, and smile
d. ‘Well I suppose it was his job once, repairing them and all. But anyway, this is the best one yet.’

  ‘Of course it is mate, sorry.’

  He held the pocket watch up and examined it closely – under the lid, around the face, round the rim and the back – almost as if he was expecting to see a secret code embossed into it. But after a minute or two, he had to conclude that there was nothing unusual. It was just an old pocket watch.

  Theo folded the watch lid back down and put it carefully back in the wooden box. Then he picked up what seemed to be a brass cylinder of some sort – no doubt the puzzle mentioned in the letter. It was slightly longer and fatter than a fountain pen and uniformly thick from one end to the other. Around the circumference there were twelve tiny dials, each numbered 0 to 9, with a vertical grove on one side clearly marking the point at which the dials should be set. Each dial was set to a seemingly random number. He spun it around in his hand, examining it from all sides. Then he put it back in the box. He wasn’t really in the mood for solving more puzzles.

  The only item left in the box, that Theo hadn’t yet looked at, was a book about the same size as a small desk diary, with a plain faded red cover and a dark blue material binding down one edge. Carefully, he lifted it out of the box. It smelt a little musty and was clearly very old. He opened it gently in the palms of his hands. Then, as he read the inside cover, a big smile lit up his face.

  ‘Jules, look at this,’ he said excitedly.

  Jules looked over his shoulder at the old book with its fragile brown pages. On the inside cover, written in fountain pen ink, was the title:

  The Journal of Alice Logan

  September 1940

  Chapter 9 – The Journal of Alice Logan

  Julesand Theo stared excitedly at the first page of the journal in front of them. The pages themselves were plain and unlined, yet the handwriting, which was in blue fountain pen ink, was neat, precise, straight and beautifully written. At the top, it was datedSeptember 1stand underneath was a short paragraph:

  It was a tough day today. Two of the patients on the ward died and there was nothing I could do about it. Honestly, I sometimes wonder why I do this job.

  The following days, up to and including the 6th, all continued in a similar vein, with just a few notes about her day to day life working in a hospital. It was nothing too exciting. But as Theo turned over the page to September the 7th, everything changed:

  I’m actually writing this on the 8th because it’s just been so eventful. Honestly, it’s so hard to put into words how I feel right now. I remember earlier in the day, everybody seemed to be hurrying home much quicker than normal, almost as if they knew what was coming. It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon when we heard that dreadful siren, and I knew that I should have started running. But I didn’t. Instead, I just peered out from behind the blackout blinds in my room watching it all happen. Then I heard the grinding of those engines and I saw the German bombers heading our way. Then there were the booms, like distant claps of thunder. That was when Dad burst into my room and practically dragged me downstairs and out into the street. Even with his limp, he was able to run faster than me down George Street.

  When we got to the street corner, we could hear another sound: a rumbling noise as our guns fired back at the German Bombers. There were flashes of light everywhere, and I was so transfixed with what was going on around me, I let go of Dad’s hand and just stood there staring up at the sky. For some reason, I wasn’t really that scared, but I don’t know why. Then Dad grabbed my hand again and we were off, round the corner and across the road to the underground railway station. When we got there, there were loads of other people, mostly women and children with a few older men, all running towards the station. We ran in the entrance past the two policemen, who were shouting at everybody telling them to ‘get a move on’ as they went past. Thank God they did because just after we got down to the station platform below there was the loudest bang I’d ever heard in my life. I felt the ground shake and we both fell over and hit the floor, and dust seemed to fly up everywhere. Then all the lights flickered and went out. We couldn’t see a thing.

  ‘God,’ said Theo, ‘It sounds terrifying.’

  ‘I can’t imagine what it was like,’ said Jules. ‘I mean, grandma Beryl told me a bit about the war. But she would’ve only been about five or six at the time. I think she was evacuated out of the city. Went out to stay on a farm or something. I doubt she went through anything like this.’

  Theo turned over the page to read on:

  I could hear coughing and spluttering everywhere, so I sat up and looked around. I couldn’t see anything at first as all the lights had gone out. Then I saw the flicker of an oil lantern in the distance and some moving shadows on the station walls. I asked Dad how he was, but for a moment I didn’t hear anything and started to panic. Then I heard some coughing and he sat up. ‘I’m OK’ he spluttered, brushing the dust off his clothes. I told him to lie back down again as he might have been concussed, but he wasn’t having any of it. It’s funny really how the training kicks in, without you even thinking about it, even when it’s your own family.

  Whoever was carrying the lantern, seemed to be heading slowly in our direction. I heard some heavy footsteps and saw the shadow of a tall man. I heard a voice say ‘Are you people OK? Any injuries?’ It was a firm strong man’s voice and he was talking like he was in charge. Then, as he held the lantern up in front of him and I caught sight of him looking down at us, I could see he was a Policeman. I guessed he wasn’t from round here as I’d never seen him before and he talked a bit funny – like a northerner Dad reckoned. But anyway, he was still a Policeman. I told him to hold the lantern near Dad so I could check him out. Thank God there didn’t seem to be anything wrong, no broken legs or arms, just a couple of small cuts on his head. Even so, I kept telling him to lie down. After all, you have to be careful with head injuries. Of course, he wasn’t having any of it, stubborn old fool. ‘It’s all right love’ he said ‘I’m OK, just a bit stunned. You’re not getting rid of your old Dad that easily.’

  The Policeman, who had obviously been watching me and the way I was with Dad, asked me if I was a nurse. I told him I was only a trainee, although I’d nearly finished my training. But that was enough for him. ‘In that case’ he said, ‘you’d better come with me.’ Then he led me down the platform to look at the other injured people. Apparently, some of the tiles had broken off the station roof and injured a few people.

  ‘Did your granddad ever tell you about the war?’ said Jules, looking up from the journal.

  ‘No,’ said Theo. ‘But then I don’t think he would have been old enough.’

  ‘I couldn’t remember exactly how old he was. I knew he was in his seventies when he…’ Jules let her words trail off.

  ‘Died? It’s funny how nobody seems to think that I can cope with the fact that he died.’

  ‘No Theo, it’s not that. I just, I mean, I cared about him too. It was hard for me as well. I never knew my granddad. He….’

  ‘I’m sorry mate, I wasn’t thinking,’ interrupted Theo. ‘You’ve known him all your life, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yeh, I have. I remember when I was really little, being sat on your back garden on knitted wool blanket. I think you were there too. And your granddad of course was there. He was teasing me I think. He was always teasing me.’

  ‘How old were you then?’

  ‘I dunno. I told mum about it once. She reckoned I would have only been about one. It was before I could walk.’

  ‘You can remember when you were one?’

  ‘It was just feelings really, not like a clear memory. It’s a bit like looking at an old, fuzzy photograph or something. Except that I’ve never seen any photos of that day, so it must have been real.’

  ‘Who knows,’ said Theo.

  ‘Anyway, come on, read on. I’m really interested now. What happens next?’

  Theo turned over the page and continued reading:

>   It took me over an hour to clean up all the cuts and sore heads. By that time, a few more Policemen had turned up, some with first aid kits. That meant we could fix people up good and proper. We were all lucky. There wasn’t anybody seriously hurt in the station. It was mainly cuts and bruises and a few concussions. But then I overheard some of the coppers talking. Apparently some people outside weren’t so lucky. A bomb had fallen pretty close to us. Thank God we lived near the underground railway station so we could get to safety quickly.

  We’d been down in the underground station for about two hours before we’d heard the all clear. By that time, I’d already finished patching up the cuts and bruises, so it had just been a case of waiting it out. That Policeman, who’d helped when it had first happened, was still hanging around, even though I was sure there were plenty of other things for him to be doing. I think it was because he fancied his chances. Perhaps he thought I was a war widow or something. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I just made sure I flashed my wedding ring at him a few times. I think he eventually took the hint and went off. If William had been here, he would’ve seen him off good and proper.

  ‘I assume William was your great granddad then?’ said Jules.

  ‘Yeh, that’s right. He was a pilot in the RAF.’

  ‘So I guess he was posted somewhere then, you know, when she wrote this?’

  ‘I suppose so. I remember when I was little, with grandpa, building one of those world war two model aircraft kits: a Hurricane if I remember right. He told me his Dad used to fly them in the war. I think I’ve still got it in bits somewhere.’

  ‘I guess you got bored with model planes and moved on to Space Shuttles?’

  ‘Yeh, you could say that,’ said Theo, thinking about the other amazing spacecraft he had seen, which made the space shuttle look like a clunky old pile of scrap metal.