“Yes he’s fine. He’s had some bacon and eggs and a cup of tea. What’s that? Right you are then. I’ll expect you in the morning.”
The jeweller hung up the phone and turned back to the table. Andy was finishing off the last of his meal and was on his third cup of tea. The big man was sitting across the table staring at Andy as if he were a ghost.
“Bloody hell,” he said, as he stared at Andy.
The jeweller sat down and reached over to his bottle of wine. It was empty. He looked over to the big man whose hand was shaking as he downed his glass in a single gulp.
“Bloody hell,” he said again, not taking his eyes off Andy.
The jeweller leaned over to Andy.
“Mr Spencer-Brown’s man, Mr Stephens, will be here in the morning to collect you,” he said.
“Thanks,” Andy said, as he wolfed down his food.
“Bloody hell,” the big man said for the fourth time.
“Would you please stop using that language in my home!” the jeweller snapped.
“You didn’t see it though did you? He just appeared like that!” the big man said as he snapped his fingers in the air. “One second I’m lookin’ at the wall an’ the next I’m bloomin’ starin’ at ‘im.”
“Yes I know. I got a shock as well, but could you please tone down the language all the same?”
“Alright but….”
There was a thunk as Andy’s head hit the table.
“God Almighty, has ‘e passed out?”
The jeweller checked Andy, more than a little concerned by his rapid slip into unconsciousness.
“No, he’s just fallen asleep.”
The big man leaned forward and peered at Andy.
“Never seen anyone drop into their meal like that without ‘aving too much to drink,” he said.
“Well you’ve probably never met anyone who’s travelled for three hundred-odd years to have dinner with you, either,” the jeweller replied. “Pick him up for me, and put him on the settee will you? I’ll get a pillow and rug.”