Chapter Fifteen
The next morning was a very fine but brisk spring day.
“Where’s Archie?” he asked Stephens, as he staggered into the kitchen half asleep.
“Outside, getting ready for the trip to London.”
Andy found Archie checking over the Bentley.
“Hello there young fellow,” said Archie. “All set for London?”
“Yes I s’pose so. When are we going?”
“Soon as you’re ready. We’ve arranged some clothes so you’ll fit in a little better. Not so conspicuous. Put them on and we’ll be gone. You’ll have to keep my flying helmet under them. Also, Stephens and I have been talking. You’ll need a passport, so we’re going to visit Stephens’s uncle Charlie who, how shall I say, walks on both sides of the law, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, he’s a crook.”
“Bluntly put, but quite true. He’s going to take your photo and arrange the passport for you.”
“A dodgy one you mean.”
“Let’s just say it has questionable legality shall we? Go and get ready and we’ll be off.”
Andy wasted no time in getting changed and less than thirty minutes later they were roaring down a narrow lane at a scary pace.
“London’s normally about two hours away,” shouted Archie over the noise of the engine. “But in this old girl we’ll be there in about an hour and a half.”
Archie wasn’t kidding. The countryside flew by in a blur. The open cockpit and the engine noise of the Bentley made it feel like they were in a fighter plane. Andy was surprised at just how fast the Bentley was.
“This thing can really go!” he yelled to Archie.
“She’s a pretty lively old girl alright,” Archie replied. “What are the new Bentleys like in your time?”
“Faster, quieter and more comfortable. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”
Archie was about to push the point and grill Andy for more information about the future but he was forced to concentrate on beating a train across a level crossing. Andy’s heart was in his mouth as they bounded over the crossing with only seconds to spare.
They kept pace with the massive steam train for mile after mile. A few of the passengers waved. Andy waved back. Archie pressed on but the train kept pace. It seemed an impromptu race was in progress. Andy looked in awe of the magnificent machine snorting and bellowing next to him. Eventually the road parted from the tracks and the train disappeared from view.
“London!” Archie yelled over the roar of the Bentley.
Andy half expected to see a motorway and high rise buildings, but there were none, nor were there any huge concrete warehouses, shopping malls or roadside burger barns. Just rows and rows of dirty brick buildings.
Their first stop was the Bank of England. Archie went in and left Andy with the Bentley. He appeared smiling about twenty minutes later.
“He’s a good man that Bertie. Fifteen hundred cash for the Miles. He has also arranged for us to meet the chap who is keen on the Bentley. He’s going to meet us at Rules Restaurant for lunch.”
Archie took Andy to a tailor to be measured up for some new clothes and a flying suit.
“I’ll have somebody here to pick them up by Wednesday,” Archie said.
“Wednesday? You must be joking!” said the tailor. Andy didn’t know if the man was going to laugh or cry at Archie’s demand.
Archie waved a five pound note at the man.
“There’s an extra five in it for you.”
“Five pounds eh?” said the tailor. “I suppose it can be done.”
They left the tailor’s and drove to the East End. If parts of London looked grim to Andy the East End was a shock. Everything looked old and run down. People in the street looked at them with contempt as they drove past.
“The Bentley isn’t the best thing to be seen in ‘round here,” said Archie. “It screams money and these people have seen very hard times for the past several years.”
They found the house they were looking for and Archie knocked on the door. It opened slightly and a hard-looking woman peered through the gap.
“Who are you?” she asked rudely.
“Archie Spencer-Brown, madam. A very good friend of mine, Richard Stephens, gave me this address and told me to ask for his Uncle Charlie.”
“Dickie sent you eh? Hang on.”
She slammed the door in their face and they heard her shrill yell from the other side.
“Charlie, there’s some toff at the door says ‘e knows young Dickie!”
The door opened and the hugest man Andy had ever seen filled the hole where it had been. He scowled down at them with menace in his face.
“You Archie?”
Archie nodded. Andy could see he was a little afraid.
“Dickie sent a message. Said you’ve got a travel problem with this boy.”
Archie nodded again.
“Come in then. We’ll be quick because if the Old Bill sees that toff car parked outside my digs they’ll kick my door in an’ accuse me of knicking it.”
Andy and Archie went in. The house was cold and damp with bare floorboards and paper peeling from the walls. Andy was unfazed by the poverty, but he could see Archie was a little shocked.
They went through to a little room at the back. Charlie put Andy against a white painted wall and took his photograph with a huge wooden camera. He thrust a pencil and paper into Andy’s hands.
“Write your name, address and date of birth on ‘ere,” he said.
Andy did as he was told. As he was doing so Archie lent over him and whispered.
“We’ll write my address down and be sure to put 1923 as the year of birth.”
When they were done they handed the paper back to Charlie.
“That’ll be ten quid,” he said. “When do you want it?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Archie said.
Charlie raised his eyebrows a little.
“You must be in trouble! I can have it to you by then but it’ll cost another ten.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Archie said.
“I don’t drive any bargain. Twenty quid it is, or you get nothing.”
Archie sighed and pulled out some notes.
“Twenty pounds it is then. Here you go.”
Charlie took a long look at the wad of cash in Archie’s hand.
“If you want to get out of the East End in one piece don’t go flashing that cash about. Also, get that toff’s car out of here and don’t come back with it. I’ll meet you at The Blind Beggar pub on Whitechapel Road, day after tomorrow at 4.00 o’clock.”
A few minutes later they were on their way to Rules Restaurant. Andy saw many of the famous London landmarks he’d read about so often. St Pauls Cathedral, the Tower of London and Trafalgar Square.
As they entered the restaurant a man seated at a nearby table raised his hand and waved to get Archie’s attention. Archie and Andy walked over and Archie shook the man’s hand.
“Mr Gallop, I presume?” said Archie.
“Yes, very nice to meet the infamous Archie Spencer-Brown,” Mr Gallop replied with a smile.
He looked at Andy and extended his hand.
“And who do we have here?” he said shaking Andy’s hand.
“Andy, ahh Andrew Anderson, Mr Gallop,” Andy replied, trying to be as polite as possible.
“Well, very nice to meet you Andrew,” he said. “Please be seated gentlemen. We’ll have a bite to eat and you can tell me about the Bentley. I hear it was originally owned by Sir Tim Birkin. I was a keen admirer of Sir Tim until he met his unfortunate end. One of Britain’s greatest racing drivers in my opinion.”
“Yes he was,” said Archie. “And it was his. I’m very reluctant to sell it.”
“But it’s for a noble cause I hear,” Mr Gallop replied. “Mounting a rescue for your brother I understand. Please, sit down and we’ll work something out for our mutual benefit I’m sure.”
They sat down and ate a
very pleasant meal while Archie and Mr Gallop hammered out a deal. After some haggling they settled on 850 pounds and shook hands. Mr Gallop pulled a large envelope from under his jacket.
“I thought that you would be leaving to find your brother before the cheque would clear, so I made the presumption that you would like cash.”
He opened the envelope and discretely counted off seventeen fifty-pound notes.
“How are you going to get back to your father’s estate?” Mr Gallop asked.
“I thought we’d take the train,” said Archie. “I’ll have to call a cab to get us from here to the station.”
Mr Gallop laughed.
“Nonsense man!” he said. “I’ll give you a lift in my new Bentley. It’s a very fine car you know.”
Ten minutes later they were outside the station waving goodbye to Mr Gallop as he roared off in the Bentley. Archie looked a little sad as he watched the car disappear round the corner.
They picked up their bags and walked to the ticket kiosk. After paying for first class fares a porter put their bags on a trolley then led them through a sea of people to their train. Andy looked at the huge black machine in awe as it sat there hissing steam.
“Here we are then gents,” the porter said. “Platform nine.”
Picking up the bags he stepped up into a coach and led them down a narrow passageway before stopping at a door about halfway down.
“Your seats, Sirs,” he said.
Archie pulled out a coin and passed it to the porter.
“Thank you very much Sir,” he said.
They walked through the door to their first-class compartment. It had seats on both sides facing each other which were just far enough apart to avoid passengers’ legs being entangled. Andy noticed a strong smell of leather and polished wood as he sat down.
They settled in. Archie had bought Andy a copy of War of the Worlds to read. Archie opened a copy of The Times, which had a headline on the front page “Germany Invades the Rhineland”
“Looks like we’ll soon be at war with the Huns again,” he said. “Wonder if the RAF will take me again?”
Andy looked up from his book.
“Who’s The Huns?”
“The Germans,” said Archie. “It’s what we called them in the last war.”
He stopped talking and looked at Andy.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” asked Andy.
“Will there be another war Andy?”
Andy stared back at Archie. He knew it was an understandable question but he didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t tell you,” he said.
Archie sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Why in heavens name not? Especially if it’s about another Great War.”
“Just take it from me that things turn out OK!” Andy snapped.
“But…,” replied Archie, not ready to give up.
They were interrupted by the conductor.
“Tickets please gentlemen. Oh, I didn’t recognize you there Mr Spencer-Brown. Magistrate got your driver’s license again, or was it another crash?”
Archie laughed.
“No George. I’m merely between automobiles at the moment.”
“Very good Sir. Nice to have you aboard.”
He clipped their tickets and left. The train pulled out and Andy watched London slip by his window for a while. Archie was reading the evening paper. He was frowning deeply and looking very unhappy. Andy shuffled in his seat. The flying hat he’d been carrying under his shirt for the past few days was driving him mad. Archie looked up from his paper.
“What’s the matter with you?” he said. “Got ants in your pants?”
“No. It’s this flying hat. It’s driving me nuts.”
Archie put his paper down.
“Tell me why you have it again?” he asked.
“It’s like a key or a link to hold me here. I have to have something from the year to which the Talisman is set to get there and once I’m there I have to keep it on me to stay. If I loose contact with it, I’ll disappear.”
“Interesting,” Archie said. “And this item can be anything so long as it was created, in this case, in 1936.”
“I guess so.”
“What you need is something made this year which is less cumbersome than my flying hat. I’d like it back by the way.”
“You’re welcome to it.”
“Yes, however we’ll have to wash it after it’s been living in your underpants won’t we,” Archie said as he returned to his paper.
Andy looked back out the window and saw they were pulling into a station much smaller than the one they’d left in London. It was dark outside and people were busy getting on and off the train. He looked up as a well-dressed older man in a black suit and bowler hat then three obviously foreign men entered the compartment. The men looked Arabic to Andy; dark skinned with black hair wearing traditional clothes.
“Good evening,” Archie and the man in the suit said to each other.
Archie didn’t acknowledge the existence of the other men. He just glared at them with mild contempt and then pulled his paper back up and continued reading. With the paper acting as a barrier of sorts he turned to Andy.
“This is just not good enough. I’m not sharing this compartment with some bloody foreign fuzzy-wuzzys. It's bad enough I spent five years fighting the blighters, now they’re over here in my country.”
Andy was shocked by Archie’s outburst.
“You can’t call them that! They have a race and they have names,” he said. “You can’t go round being racist.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re people just like you and me, except they were born somewhere else and look different that’s all.”
Archie laughed at Andy.
“What a load of liberal poppycock. Look at them. How can they be the same? Have you ever been to the Middle East and seen how they live?”
Andy was getting angry now.
“Those fuzzy wuzzys, as you call them, were building the pyramids and great cities thousands of years before you people!”
Archie was taken aback by Andy’s anger. He looked over the top of his paper and saw the three foreign men taking a keen interest in the argument. It was obvious they understood what was going on. He felt quite uncomfortable and was silent for a minute.
“Look I’m sorry if I upset you, but I lost quite a few friends in the Middle East. None of them died very nicely, if you know what I mean.”
“Did you ever stop to think that it was their country and they didn’t want you there; just like you guys with the Germans in your last war?”
“That was entirely different!” Archie snapped back at Andy.
“No it’s not!” Andy yelled, “And if you don’t change your attitude you selfish, stuck up, upper-class snob I’ll take my Talisman and my other gear and leave!”
There was silence in the cabin. The man in the suit was glaring at Archie who in turn was looking apologetic. The three foreign men were ignoring Archie and staring at Andy in stunned silence.
“Talisman?” one of them said in a thick accent.
One of the others gave him a quick elbow in the ribs. They fell silent for a minute then started talking in their own language, all the time giving Andy quick glances. The conversation grew louder until another full blown argument erupted. It was Archie and Andy’s turn to sit in discomfort.
The man in the hat stood and threw his paper down in disgust.
“I’ve had more than enough of this,” he said as he opened the door and disappeared through it.
A minute later the man returned with three burley conductors. Andy saw what was going on.
“Now we’re for it,” he thought, “They’ll boot us off for sure.”
“That’s them!” the man said, pointing at the foreign men.
The conductors stepped into the compartment.
“Right you three,” one of them said to the foreign men. “We’ll not have any more t
rouble from the likes of you. You can go down to third class.”
Two of the men began to protest, but the one in the middle spoke sharply to them and walked out followed by the other two. The man in the hat sat down and picked up his newspaper again deliberately ignoring Archie and Andy.
“So, we have an argument, but they get the boot, no questions asked,” said Andy in disgust.
“Shh Andy. It’s just the way things are in this day and age.”
“It’s not right, that’s what it is.”
“Yes, perhaps you're right, but this is the wrong time and place for such arguments,” Archie replied.
The trip continued in silence. After several miles the rhythm and motion of the carriage lulled Andy off to sleep. It didn’t seem like long before Archie was gently shaking him.
“Andy, we’ve arrived. Wake up.”
Andy rubbed his eyes, then got up and followed Archie out of the coach. Stephens was waiting for them on the platform. They got their bags and began to walk towards Archie’s mother’s car which Stephens had borrowed.
“I see you’ve got the Riley. What did you tell father?” Archie asked Stephens.
“I told him the Bentley had a spot of mechanical problems Sir.”
“So he doesn’t know of my plans to try and rescue Ed then?”
“Not as far as I know, Sir.”
Archie patted Stephens on the back.
“Good man. How can I ever thank you?”
“A raise would be nice Sir.”
Archie began to laugh but stopped and stared ahead of them. The three foreigners had just stepped off the third-class carriage. They saw Archie and Andy and immediately started walking towards them. It was obvious that they meant business.
“Made some new friends, Sir?” Stephens said to Archie. “Best we make a hasty exit by the looks of it. I’ll trot ahead and get the car started.”
Stephens left Archie and Andy behind as they strode towards the station exit.
“I’m worried Archie. They look pretty angry.”
“They won’t do anything here Andy, not with all these people, but I hope Stephens has that car running.”
The men behind them were gaining ground and the crowd was thinning as they walked out of the station. Stephens swung into view and pulled up in front of the exit. He reached across the interior of the car and threw the passengers door open. Seeing their prey was about to get away, the men behind them yelled and gave chase.
“Run!” said Archie as he grabbed Andy by the arm.