Ctrl-Z

by Andrew Norriss

  ‘Yes…’ Godfather John nodded sympathetically. ‘It’s not easy, is it?’

  ‘Is there anything you could do to help?’ asked Alex.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well… I was wondering if you could go back to yesterday and change things.’ Alex pointed to the palmtop on the table. ‘Can the new machine do something like that?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said his godfather. ‘No, it can’t.’

  ‘Isn’t there anything I can do?’

  ‘Well, there’s only one thing you ever have to do when you’ve made a mistake,’ said Godfather John, ‘and that’s decide not to do it again.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Alex, disappointed.

  ‘And apologize to anyone who got hurt, of course.’ Godfather John put the last bit of sandwich in his mouth and washed it down with his third mug of coffee before leaning back in his chair. ‘I’m not sure why that bit’s important, but it seems to be part of the process.’ He pointed his finger at Alex. ‘So my advice is to get round to Mr Kowalski, say you’re sorry and promise not to report him to the police again. Not without a working Ctrl‐Z, anyway.’

  The last thing Alex wanted to do was go anywhere near number 16. He wasn’t sure if Mr Kowalski knew that he was the one who had called the police or not, but if he did know, he would almost certainly be very angry. A picture of the old man shooting at the dog in his garden as he shouted at it to go away flashed into Alex’s head…

  ‘What happens,’ he said, ‘if I go round, and Mr Kowalski’s really cross?’

  Godfather John gave a chuckle. ‘Oh, I think you’ll be all right!’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘In fact I’m sure of it,’ said Godfather John confidently. ‘I’ve got this, remember?’ He held up his palmtop. ‘I wouldn’t be advising you to do something that I didn’t know was going to turn out OK, would I?’

  Alex thought about this for a moment. ‘Right. And then you think I should do the same thing with Callum… and my parents?’

  ‘I definitely think you should have a word with Callum – he’s your friend, after all.’ Godfather John paused for a moment before continuing. ‘But I don’t think you should say anything to your parents. Because you don’t really have anything to apologize to them for, do you? As your father said, they seem to have messed that one up all on their own.’ He gave another throaty chuckle. ‘It sounds to me like they’ve been making much bigger mistakes than you have!’

  Alex was slightly confused. ‘You keep making it sound like making a mistake is a good thing,’ he said.

  ‘But of course it is!’ Godfather John beamed at him across the table. ‘That’s why I sent you the laptop, remember? So you could make lots of mistakes.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alex. ‘I know that’s what you said. I just never understood why…’

  ‘I said it because we have to make mistakes, Alex. All of us. It’s how we learn!’ Godfather John’s eyes glinted under his bushy eyebrows as he spoke.

  ‘Think of when you were a baby learning to walk. You took your first step, you fell over, you got up, took another step, you fell over again… And that’s how any of us learns anything. By trying it, getting it wrong and trying it again.’

  He leant across the table towards Alex. ‘What would have happened if you’d decided after the first mistake to give up learning to walk because you were getting it wrong? You’d have been stuck sitting down for the rest of your life, wouldn’t you! No, no…’ Godfather John shook his head firmly. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of in making a mistake. The mistakes are how we learn and grow – and the learning and the growing are what we’re all here to do in the first place, aren’t they!’

  Alex opened his mouth to answer, but Godfather John was already pulling him to his feet. ‘You’d better get round and see Mr Kowalski,’ he said, looking at his watch. ‘Your father’s going to be home in two and a half minutes and he and I need to have a little talk.’

  Mr Kowalski gave Alex a friendly wave when he saw him coming up the path. He was standing on a stepladder by the open window using a hammer to pull out the nails that had once held the curtains closed so that nobody could see inside.

  ‘Door is open, Alex!’ he called. ‘Come on in!’

  Alex walked through to the sitting room, which looked very different now that the curtains at either end of the room had been taken down. The windows were wide open and a fresh breeze was blowing through from the garden.

  ‘Is good to see you!’ Mr Kowalski climbed down from the ladder and gestured Alex to a chair. ‘You hear what happen yesterday?’

  ‘Yes, I did. And that’s why –’

  ‘Bad business!’ Mr Kowalski shook his head. ‘Very bad. But we not talk about it. Instead, we eat cake!’ Mr Kowalski crossed to the table and picked up a tin. ‘Is Polish cake. Called szarlotka. I make it specially for you!’

  ‘Mr Kowalski,’ said Alex, ‘I’ve come to say sorry.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Mr Kowalski was busily cutting a large slice of cake and putting it on a plate. ‘Why you sorry?’

  Alex wished that Mr Kowalski would stop being so nice. He almost wished he would go back to being grumpy and bad‐tempered instead of looking at him, as he did now, with such kindly concern on his face.

  ‘I came to say sorry –’ Alex took a deep breath. – ‘because it was me that told the police about the snake.’

  For several long seconds Mr Kowalski said nothing. He stared down at Alex with a frown of puzzled incomprehension.

  ‘You? You tell police?’

  ‘Yes.’ Alex could not remember when he had ever felt so uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. I just wanted to find out what would happen. I never meant for them to arrest you and take away the snake…’

  ‘How you know about Saskia?’ demanded Mr Kowalski.

  ‘Well, I‐I saw him.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I‐I came into your house one day…’ Alex could feel himself blushing. ‘When you were out.’

  ‘Ah…’ The old man let out a long sigh and sat slowly on a chair.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Mr Kowalski. I didn’t mean to do anything that hurt you.’

  Mr Kowalski did not answer, but stared at the carpet for some time without speaking. Finally, he made a little gesture with his hands. ‘Is not so bad,’ he said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Police tell me no charges. No fine. No prison.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Alex. ‘What about…’

  ‘Saskia gone to zoo. They very pleased to have him. I think he be happy there. And they tell me I visit whenever I like.’

  ‘Oh. Good.’

  ‘I ring my daughter this morning and tell her. She coming to stay. With my granddaughter.’ He gestured to the room behind him. ‘Lot of cleaning to do.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose there is,’ said Alex. ‘Can I help?’ In the circumstances, it seemed the least he could do and for the next hour he helped Mr Kowalski as he hoovered and dusted and carried the old newspapers that had once been the bedding for an African python down to a bonfire at the end of the garden.

  Halfway through, when they were having a drink and some of the Polish cake – which was delicious – Mr Kowalski said, ‘Alex? When my granddaughter come, you will visit and say hello, yes?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Alex. ‘And I wanted to ask, when you go and see Saskia at the zoo, would you take me with you?’

  The old man’s face creased into a smile.

  ‘Is a promise, my young friend,’ he said. ‘Is a promise.’

  When Alex rang the doorbell at number 27, it was answered by Callum’s father. Alex asked him how Lilly was.

  ‘Not so bad, thank you,’ said Mr Bannister. ‘They think she’s going to be all right. I’m going in later with Callum, but I thought I’d clear up a bit first. You heard about the burglary?’

  ‘Burglary!’ said Alex. ‘No. What happened?’

  ‘Someone broke in while we were out last night,’ said Mr Bannister. ‘W
hen we got back this morning, the house was a real mess. Nothing missing, fortunately. The police think it was local kids messing around. They got in through the patio door.’ He glanced down at Alex. ‘You want to see Callum?’

  ‘If that’s all right,’ said Alex.

  ‘I’d be glad if you would. He could do with a visitor to cheer him up.’ Mr Bannister headed back to the kitchen. ‘He was very upset about yesterday. Almost as if he thought the accident was his fault!’

  ‘It was my fault,’ said Callum, when Alex went upstairs and explained what had happened the day before. He lay on his bed, gazing gloomily up at the ceiling. ‘If only I’d remembered that I had the cable! Or rung you earlier. Or told Mrs Penrose to make sure she gave it to you personally… I can’t believe I was so stupid!’

  ‘I’ve been talking to your dad,’ said Alex. ‘He says you were the one who found Lilly. He says if you hadn’t raised the alarm when you did, it could have been much worse.’

  Callum gave a shrug. ‘I still shouldn’t have made the mistake about the power lead.’

  ‘My godfather says we all make mistakes,’ said Alex. ‘He says we’re supposed to. He says it’s how we learn.’

  ‘Really?’ said Callum. He thought for a moment. ‘Is that supposed to help? Because it doesn’t.’

  And Alex had to agree that it didn’t much.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked Godfather John, when Alex got back to the house.

  ‘Not as bad as I expected,’ said Alex.

  ‘Good, good.’ Godfather John was in the hall, pulling his coat on, and Alex could see his father busy in the kitchen putting plates and cups in the sink.

  ‘I’m driving your dad into town now,’ said Godfather John.

  ‘We’re going to see your mother. Do you want to come with us?’

  ‘Well…’ said Alex.

  ‘Of course you do!’ Godfather John clapped a hand on his shoulder and then added in a lower voice, ‘You don’t have to worry!’ He gestured to the palmtop in his pocket. ‘I’ve done this bit already and it goes terribly well!’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The garage where Mrs Howard worked looked different from the last time Alex had seen it, soon after his mother started there. Then, the reception area had been dirty and dimly lit. Now it was clean, freshly painted, there were comfortable chairs for customers to sit on as they waited, a machine that provided free coffee, and relaxing music played quietly in the background.

  Looking around, however, there was no sign of Mrs Howard.

  ‘If you’re looking for Lois,’ said a middle‐aged woman standing by the reception desk, ‘she’s in the workshop.’ She pointed to a glass window behind the desk through which they could see several men in overalls working on a variety of cars. One of them had been raised up on a ramp, and Mrs Howard was standing underneath it with one of the mechanics.

  ‘She won’t be long,’ said the woman. ‘She’s just sorting out my brake fluid.’

  Alex watched as his mother peered at the underneath of the car, tapped at a section of the metal with a screwdriver and tugged at a section of pipe further along. She moved with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly what she was doing, and when she spoke to the mechanic, Alex noticed, he listened attentively to what she was saying.

  ‘I’ve not been here before.’ Godfather John was addressing the middle‐aged woman at the reception desk. ‘Can I ask… is this a reliable garage?’

  ‘It’s first class,’ said the woman, ‘but if you want anything special done, make sure you speak to Lois. She’s the one in charge.’

  ‘In charge?’ Alex’s father had stepped forward. ‘I thought she was the receptionist?’

  ‘Oh, she’s everything, really,’ said the woman, ‘since Mr Fothergill had his heart trouble. Receptionist, chief mechanic, general manager…’

  Mr Howard frowned. ‘Mr Fothergill’s been ill?

  ‘He’s been out of it for almost six months now,’ said the woman. ‘That’s why Lois took over. This is all her!’ The woman gestured round the reception area. ‘You should have seen this place before! But if you want to speak to her, you need to get here before three thirty. She has to go home early most days, to look after her son.’

  ‘So you’d recommend this place, would you?’ asked Godfather John.

  ‘I wouldn’t go anywhere else,’ said the woman firmly. Her face clouded for a moment. ‘Though of course I may have to.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  ‘Word is that Lois is leaving.’ The woman let out a long sigh.

  ‘She’s going to be an accountant. There’s a lot of us will miss her, I can tell you, but I suppose we just have to make the most of her while she’s here!’

  Godfather John thanked her for her advice and led both Alex and his father outside. Standing on the garage forecourt, he turned to Mr Howard.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  Mr Howard looked rather dazed. ‘You’re right,’ he said eventually. ‘I… I had no idea.’

  Godfather John patted him on the shoulder. ‘Of course you didn’t. So you’ll do it?’

  ‘Well…’ Mr Howard looked nervously back into the garage where his wife had come out of the workshop and was talking to the woman waiting at the desk. ‘I suppose. If it’s what she wants.’ He looked at Godfather John. ‘You’re quite sure it is what she wants?’

  ‘Quite sure,’ said Godfather John. ‘But don’t take my word for it. Go and ask her!’

  ‘Yes.’ Mr Howard took a deep breath and braced his shoulders. ‘Yes, I’ll do that.’ And he walked back into the garage.

  ‘Take as long as you like,’ Godfather John called after him. ‘I’ll look after Alex!’

  Alex was not quite sure what was happening, but he had a feeling that whatever it was, it was important. He wanted to follow his father back into the garage, but Godfather John steered him firmly back towards the car.

  ‘Best thing you and I can do is keep out of the way,’ he said. ‘With a bit of luck, he’ll get it right this time!’

  ‘Get what right?’ asked Alex. ‘I don’t understand. What’s he supposed to be saying to Mum?’

  ‘Well,’ Godfather John pulled open the car door and sat himself down inside. ‘I suppose you have a right to know.’ He waited until Alex had climbed in the other side. ‘Your father’s been trying to help your mother get a job as an accountant, and he’s only just realized that’s not what she wants to do.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ said Alex. His mother had been planning and preparing for a career in accountancy for as long as he could remember. ‘Are you sure? She’s been saying that’s what she wants for years.

  She and Dad are going to set up a partnership together.’

  ‘That’s what she did want, originally,’ Godfather John agreed, ‘but in the last year she’s changed her mind. She’s found something else she’d rather do instead.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Alex, and inside his head, all sorts of pieces suddenly slotted together like bits of a jigsaw. The way his mother had looked while she was checking over the underside of the car on the ramp. All the things the woman at the desk had said about how his mother was really running the garage. How she had spent the last two years doing up a Triumph TR4. And how everyone in the close came to her when something went wrong with their cars.

  ‘She wants to work in a garage,’ he said, and he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t realized this before.

  ‘That’s the way it looks to me.’ Godfather John adjusted the rear‐view mirror so that he could see what was going on behind him in the reception area.

  ‘If she wants to work in a garage,’ said Alex, ‘why didn’t she say so?’

  ‘Well, that was her big mistake, of course.’ Godfather John was still watching the mirror. ‘Not telling your father. But to be fair, she probably didn’t know herself at first, and then, when she did, she was worried it might upset him. I mean, as you said, they’ve been planning the accountancy thing for years. Invested a lot of time
and money. It can’t have been easy after all that to come out and say she’d changed her mind.’

  Alex thought of all the hours Dad had spent helping Mum through one exam after another, all so that one day they could set up in business together. The idea of telling him, when the work was almost done, that she wanted to do something else must have been even harder than telling Mr Kowalski that you were the one who had called the police.

  ‘And your dad’s mistake was to keep pushing her into something she didn’t want,’ said Godfather John. ‘That’s what all the arguments were really about, of course. All the rows about screwdrivers and tea towels. What was really happening was that your father thought your mother should be pushing forward, and your mother didn’t want to.’ He still hadn’t taken his eyes off the mirror. ‘So now he’s telling her that if she wants to work in a garage, that’s fine with him and he doesn’t mind at all. Well, not too much.’

  ‘Will that make everything OK?’ asked Alex. ‘It should do, if he gets it right.’ His godfather smiled at Alex. ‘And if he doesn’t, I’ll take him back and make him do it again.’

  Alex turned in his seat. Through the rear window he could see his parents sitting together on two of the reception chairs, deep in conversation. It wasn’t easy to tell how things were going. They were talking very animatedly, but they weren’t arguing or shouting, which had to be good. Then Mum seemed to be crying, which was a bit alarming, but no, a moment later she was laughing as well as crying and then she reached out to Dad and hugged him, held him really tightly as if she was determined never to let him go, and they were both laughing now…

  ‘Oh yes!’ Godfather John smiled. ‘That looks very promising!’ He turned to Alex. ‘Come on, time to get you home.’

  By the time they got back to the house in Oakwood

  Close, it was nearly one o’clock.

  ‘Lunchtime,’ said Godfather John, ‘and you’re having it with Mr Kowalski.’

  ‘Am I?’ said Alex.

  ‘Callum’s going to come over in a minute and tell you.’ Godfather John turned off the engine. ‘He’s very excited because Lilly’s coming home from hospital this afternoon. He tells you that, and then he tells you you’re invited to lunch. If I go into the house with you, I get invited too, but if you don’t mind I won’t do it again.’ He yawned. ‘I have to be in Rome by five o’clock.’