Chapter Fourteen
Andy and Archie had spent the best part of an hour talking.
“Well Andy, it appears that you have convinced me not to make my flight tomorrow. If my brother still has over four weeks to live, then things aren’t quite as desperate.”
“What will you do?” asked Andy.
“There’s another Comet based near London which is owned by a friend of a friend who leases it out. I’ll give him a call and see if it’s free. If so, I’ll spend a couple of days preparing, then I’ll be off at the first sign of suitable weather.”
Suddenly, Andy had an idea.
“The Comet has two seats. I’d like to go too,” said Andy.
“No, not on your life,” said Archie. “Long distance flying is a dangerous business. I’ll get the information from you and you can go home.”
Andy glared at Archie.
“No way! I’m going or you don’t get the maps. I’m responsible for your brother’s accident. I want to help!”
Archie smiled.
“I can see I’m not going to win. Let’s call a truce for the time being and discuss who’s doing what over tea and cake at my house. You can take that flying helmet off, if you want to.”
“I can’t,” said Andy. “If I do I’ll disappear back to where I came from. It has to stay on me.”
“Really? Alright then, tuck it under your belt and we’ll think of something else later.”
“There’s just one other thing,” Andy said.
“What’s that?”
“I’m here to help rescue your brother and that’s it. I can’t tell you anything else about the future. OK?”
Archie looked like he was going to disagree for a second, then he smiled and patted Andy on the back.
“Alright then, but I don’t see what harm a few questions could do.”
Archie started the Bentley up and they moved off.
“Are we going to your big house over there?” Andy asked pointing at the stately home across the gardens.
Archie laughed.
“Goodness no,” he said. “That’s my father’s house. I’ve been banished to the gamekeeper’s cottage around the back.”
“Why?”
“Because, my brother crashed attempting to break the record for flying from England to Australia and New Zealand. I challenged him to do it at a dinner party when I’d had rather too much to drink. Father blames me for Ed’s demise and so I’m banished from the family home.”
It took them a full five minutes to drive around the grounds of the house. They wove around stands of massive oak trees then passed the rear of the manor house. Carrying on for another hundred yards or so they stopped in front of a two-story brick cottage.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said.
Andy got out of the car. He yawned and stretched. The lack of sleep and excitement were catching up on him. A man came out of the cottage. He was tall, dark haired and immaculately groomed.
“Is this your butler?” Andy whispered to Archie.
“No, Stephens is my valet,” Archie replied.
“What’s the difference?”
“A butler is employed by and works for the house, whereas a valet works for an individual person; in this case, me.”
Stephens walked towards Archie and Andy.
“Good afternoon Sir,” he said. “I’m afraid lunch is cold. Agnes brought it down from the manor an hour ago.”
“Yes Stephens. I was on time but I’m afraid I got waylaid by our friend here.”
Stephens looked at Andy and arched an eyebrow in disapproval.
“And will the young master be staying for lunch, Sir?”
“He will in fact be staying longer. Can you please make up the spare bedroom for him and get Agnes to send some more food down.”
“Very good, Sir,” Stephens said.
Archie took Andy inside and they went into the living room. The cottage was very cozy and welcoming. Andy liked it at once. While he was looking round he noticed the conspicuous absence of the household items that he was used to seeing. No TV, video, or DVD, no computers, no stereo system. In fact the only thing electrical at all that Andy recognised was an ancient radio in the corner. Archie noticed him looking at it.
“Do you like my new wireless?” he said. “It’s the latest one out you know. Cost me a packet.”
Andy smiled politely and sat down on the couch in the living room. Archie was racing round the room like a man possessed looking for charts and maps, asking questions and yelling instructions to Stephens. Despite the noise, Andy felt himself slipping into a deep sleep.
It was several hours later that he was woken by Stephens who was gently shaking him.
“Time for dinner, Sir,” he said.
“Don’t you mean lunch?”
“No, Sir, dinner it is. You’ve been asleep several hours.”
Andy looked at the windows. It was dark outside.
“Where’s Archie?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“He has gone down to the manor to speak to his father, Lord Spencer-Brown, about today’s developments.”
“What developments?”
“Why your arrival and the information you passed on to him.”
Andy laughed.
“I don’t think his father will believe a time traveller has arrived with just the information they need to find Edmond, will he?”
“No. I could hardly believe it myself, but for the electric compute machine and the tiny music gramophone you bought with you.”
“What?” said Andy.
“Well Sir, Mr Spencer-Brown tried to wake you so you could go and present the information to his father, but he couldn’t rouse you.”
“And?”
“Mr Spencer-Brown was determined to see his father this afternoon to get things underway. He’s not a patient man you see. So he took your compute machine, your music device and the other things up to the manor to show his father.”
Andy threw his blanket off and shoved his feet into his shoes.
“That’s an old computer with a dodgy battery. He could wreck it!”
He was off out the door and running towards the manor house with a worried Stephens in tow.
They were at the back of the manor house in less than a minute. Stephens led Andy through a kitchen full of startled cooks and serving staff and then into a huge hall. They stopped at a massive wooden door. They could hear a heated argument coming from the other side.
Stephens gulped.
“That booming voice is Lord Spencer-Brown,” he said as he knocked.
“Come!” the angry voice bellowed from behind the door.
Stephens opened the door and walked in motioning Andy to follow. They were in an enormous dining room. Archie was sitting on one side of a long dining table and had the laptop open in front of him. He was staring at it, looking confused and upset. Opposite Archie was an older thick-set man who looked very much like him, but with long grey hair and a huge moustache that made him look like a walrus. His face was bright red with anger. He turned and glared at Andy and Stephens as they entered.
“Is this the future boy, come with wondrous technology?” the old man yelled across the room. “He looks more like the son of a conman come to lure my fool son out of what little money he hasn’t already squandered!”
Andy wanted to turn and run but he could see the look of distress on Archie’s face. Slowly he walked over to Archie and looked at the laptop. It was dead. Andy frantically tapped the keyboard and pressed the start button. Nothing happened.
“I’m sorry Andy,” Archie said. “I thought I could get it going, and I did for a while but it made a funny noise then stopped.”
“So?” the old man roared making Andy jump. “What do you have to say now, future boy?”
Andy stood rooted to the spot, petrified of the imposing man in front of him.
“I… I’ve got some documents as well,” he stammered meekly.
“I’m sure you have. They’ll be as false as al
l of the rest of this rubbish I see in front of me, won’t they?” Archie’s father spat, as he glared at Andy.
Andy withered and looked down at the floor to avoid his gaze.
Lord Spencer-Brown stood, and thrust an arm out towards the door.
“I thought so! Get out of my house now, all of you! Especially you, Archie Spencer-Brown, before I disown you altogether. Three sons and you’re the only one left alive. What a damned waste!”
Archie gathered up the laptop and they all retreated, leaving his father slumped back in his seat. They left via the kitchens to the stares of shocked and bewildered staff. Nothing was said on the way back to the cottage.
When they got back Stephens went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Andy could see Archie was shaken. He turned to Andy who was surprised to see a tear in his eye.
“I’m sorry Andy,” he said. “I couldn’t wait for you any longer. I’d been using the computer all afternoon and was getting quite handy with it, so I thought I’d take it up to father. It stopped dead just as I was about to show him.”
“You’ve been using it all afternoon?” Andy asked.
“Yes. I’ve read almost everything on there.” Archie replied.
“Then you ran the battery flat you idiot!” yelled Andy.
There was an angry silence for a few minutes. Stephens brought them a cup of tea, then Archie spoke.
“I’ve ruined everything. I’ll never find my brother.”
“No,” said Andy quietly. “It’s alright. The laptop was dodgy anyway. You just killed it quicker. I only brought it along to prove I was from the future. I’ve got printed copies of all the really important stuff in my bag.”
Archie looked up and smiled.
“So we still have Ed’s location then?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent!” Archie said, thumping the table. “Stephens, old chap, we’re not lost yet. Get me my address book and I’ll ring to see if that other Comet is available to lease. Andy, my boy, get those maps of yours out and we’ll compare them to my charts.”
Shortly after Andy and Stephens were poring over the maps while Archie spoke loudly down a huge black telephone to the man who owned the other Comet plane.
“Doesn’t it annoy you that he talks to you like a dogsbody?” asked Andy.
Stephens smiled.
“No Sir, it’s the lot of a man in service. Besides, I owe him my life.”
“How’s that?” Andy asked.
“I met him in 1916 during the Great War in the Battle of the Somme. We’d rather foolishly lied about our ages to get into the action. Both of us got wounded in the first day of the battle and were in hospital together. Master Spencer-Brown got his father to pull some strings and arranged for a transfer to the Flying Corps. He got me transferred with him.”
“How did that save your life though?” asked Andy.
Stephens smile fell.
“There were 146,000 men killed during that battle and another half million wounded or taken prisoner. No one who I joined the army with survived. If I hadn’t gone to the Flying Corps with the master, then I’d have gone back to the trenches and been killed as sure as I’m talking to you now.”
They were interrupted by Archie yelling into the telephone at the owner of the airplane.
“One thousand pounds? You must be joking Tasker. I just want to lease it, not buy it. What’s that? Take it or leave it? I’ll just have to take it then. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow and I want to leave by Monday, so it needs to be in top shape!”
Archie slammed the phone down in disgust.
“One thousand pounds? Where am I going to get that sort of money from? I don’t have it and father certainly won’t help me out. I’ll have to sell the Bentley and the Miles.”
“What’s a Miles?” Andy asked.
“It’s my airplane. The one you saw the other day. It won’t be hard to sell though. I know a few chaps who are keen on it.”
The rest of the evening was spent planning the trip. The incredible organization and detail that Archie went into amazed Andy. He tried to keep track of what was going on but soon became lost. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch.
Andy woke the next morning still on the couch with the sun streaming through the window. He could smell food and rubbing his eyes he wandered into the kitchen.
“Morning young master Andy,” Stephens said, as he pushed a bowl in front of him.
“What’s this stuff?” Andy asked looking at the lumpy grey sludge in the bowl.
“You’ve never seen porridge before?” Stephens asked a little shocked.
“No.”
“Well, get it down you then. It’s better than it looks and it’s good for growing boys.”
Reluctantly Andy tried the porridge. Stephens was right. It was good. Andy downed the bowl and then tried marmalade on toast but spat it out. It was too bitter. He swilled down a cup of tea to get rid of the taste.
“Where’s Archie?” he asked.
“He’s been talking on the telephone most of the morning trying to sell his airplane and the Bentley.”
Andy was halfway through the cup of tea when Archie came into the kitchen.
“I did it. The Miles is sold. Fifteen hundred pounds to old Bertie Johnston. He’ll meet me at the Bank of England in London tomorrow. He even gave me a tip on someone who’s after a Bentley. Want to see London tomorrow Andy?”
“Sure, why not.”