by Oliver Skye
Epilogue
WHEN A FEW weeks later Professor McCrackenbatten arrived in New York to crowds of cheering scientists and well-wishers, Dolly confessed to her spying and begged for forgiveness. Being the kindly man he was he readily forgave her ... and Desmond.
Dolly continued to work for the professor with a much-improved attitude. She also developed a taste for science and astronomy, becoming an invaluable assistant. In time she conducted her own experiments, eventually making a name for herself in the cosmological world – by discovering a yet uncharted peculiar galaxy.
Desmond frequently accompanied Dolly to the laboratory, though still suffering from severe amnesia. He became extremely fond of the elderly scientist – when occasionally remembering who he was – often observing him at work.
One evening, a few weeks after Desmond’s return from England, a hulking man in a white suit wearing jet-black shades arrived at the Blaken’s apartment block. He pushed at the bell incessantly until Dolly rushed down to the gated entrance. In a rough sandpapery voice, the man demanded $50,000 in cash. Dolly hurried upstairs, pulled a packet from the hiding place under the stairwell and handed it over. ‘It’s all there,’ she panted. ‘I replenished whatever we used ... from our life savings.’
‘You’re lucky your husband ain’t dead meat,’ the man said menacingly. ‘An’ it’s a good thang he can’t remember anything ... otherwise....
‘An’ ya better keep yer purty mouth shut too, or my men will shut it for yuh. Understand?’
Dolly nodded and watched the man walk back to a gleaming sedan parked on the curb. A darkly-dressed man opened the back door for him. Soon the long white car squealed away in a cloud of dust.
Dolly had expected the visit. She assumed the organisation that had given Desmond the money also knew about his condition. Perhaps they regarded it as punishment enough.
Back in their small living room, Dolly found Desmond with a vacant look staring down at the park out of his favourite window. ‘Who’re you?’ he asked as she walked into the room.
* * *
After his run-in with the alligator-skin shoes, Norman became an altogether different person, no longer adhering to his boring routine, though still dressing in the same way.
Interestingly all the startling events, starting with his fateful morning walk through the park, came about because of utterly trivial circumstances. These created a ripple effect as if someone had thrown a pebble into a pond. Dolly, in a sense, had thrown the very first stone. If she’d only minded her own business – though the Twins wouldn’t have remained a secret because the professor had already made up his mind to show them to Plato Grammaticus – Desmond wouldn’t have ended up in the state he did.
Also, if the professor hadn’t thought his shoes so dear, he would’ve worn them – which the Twins intended from the beginning, instead of keeping them in their case – and never left them behind in the park. Then again, if the professor had only used a hearing aid, he wouldn’t have spoken so loudly ... and Dolly would never’ve heard his first fateful conversation with the Twins. And if Norman didn’t have a phobia about cars, he would’ve arrived safely at his shop in the first place.
Strangely, these apparently inconsequential incidents all led to Norman becoming an extremely popular and even wealthier man – and to fulfilling his lifelong ambition of travelling the world. This just goes to show that life can be full of surprises; and that seemingly trivial circumstances – like walking through a park – can sometimes lead to really great ones!
* * *
Since the fuss died down, if you carefully observe bustling people around London’s West End waiting for the tube, or travelling on the lower deck of a bus, you might spot Norman with his tabloid, bowler and umbrella. That’s if he isn’t visiting his elder brother Reginald in Mongolia or travelling somewhere else. Norman still prefers to use public transport but now avidly avoids Hyde Park. The closest he gets to it is when occasionally visiting Holby’s café in Mayfair.
As a result of the media attention he received, people bought all kinds of Norman Heese paraphernalia: designer odd socks; outlandish ties; glow-in-the-dark bowler hats; electric ‘Norman for PM’ badges; Norman toys with flashing feet; and, of course, hi-tech alligator-skin shoes which tell the time, warm your feet and change colour. These were all brand name autographed by Norman. The replica alligator-skin shoes, however, were registered to both Professor McCrackenbatten and Norman: the professor invented them ... Norman made them famous!
If you do spot Norman, he won’t mind shaking hands and chatting with you. Mildred and Jeremy won’t mind either, as long as you don’t make too much of them or ask for autographs.
Not long after selling Heese & Sons for Men – without ever entering the shop again – Norman and Mildred bought and moved into a large country home, Galveston Hall, not far from London, which suited Mildred very well. The Heeses retained Roger Winter and Wilmot – who busied themselves as chauffeurs and with looking after the estate – as well as Jennifer and Doreen. Six months later, Wilmot and Jennifer were engaged and then married.
Mildred never liked travelling by public transport, but nowadays sometimes she has to, unless Wilmot chauffeurs her. That’s because the authorities eventually revoked her license for reckless driving, though she still owns her cherry-red convertible. Because she couldn’t drive any longer, Mildred learned to fly and bought a single-seater plane – no one would have flown with her anyway. She had quite a few near misses with power pylons but eventually clocked up many accident-free hours.
* * *
It was shortly after visiting Ella Bonsmara at a fashionable sanatorium that the ex-Knightsbridge shopkeeper departed on his first extended world cruise. Arriving there, after walking from the nearest bus stop, his appearance at the sanatorium’s gates caused quite a stir. Surprised doctors and nurses escorted him to where the diva was reclining in the garden. Before long, a swarm of reporters arrived.
After Norman explained that it hadn’t been his intention to frighten her, Ms Bonsmara smiled and extended her hand accompanied by multiple camera flashes. She soon made a complete recovery, sending Norman autographed posters and recordings of her performances. Norman never listened to them, but rather kept them as prized mementos.
When arriving at Southampton on a clear day to board the Oasis of the Seas, the largest passenger ship in the world, Norman was amazed to see hundreds of people waving small British flags – and a brass band playing in the middle of the crowd. At first, he thought it was a national celebration. It was only once he’d boarded, while standing at the ship’s railing, that he noticed a banner: WE LOVE YOU NORMAN!
He couldn’t believe his eyes when, on closer inspection, he saw children, and even adults, wearing colourful bowler hats, decorated ties, odd socks and flashing toy shoes.
Just then, the captain with two of his officers stepped up to him. ‘Welcome, Mr Heese,’ he said, smiling. ‘It’s lovely to have you on board. I believe these folk have come to see you off ... perhaps you’d like to give them a wave—’
Norman did so to the approval of the cheering crowd, smiling and doffing his mauve bowler. Close to the gangway he saw Mildred, Jeremy and his parents, Roger Winter, Doreen, Wilmot and Jennifer, all waving.
Once the graceful liner had left port with three blasts of its foghorns, Norman removed his favourite watch. ‘I won’t need you any longer!’ he cried, giving it one last look and throwing it as far as he could into the blue-green waves.
The End
Afterword
In all the sequences of indissoluble beginnings, followed by vague and indistinguishable endings, sightings come into view – lofty, eloquent, and iridescent in their design, precluding the centre of gravitas in unanswerable variables – of belated renderings, stripped bare by words, words, and more words—
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McCrackenbatten’s Fantastic Computer Shoes
