Jay, Lizzie and the Tale of the Stairs

  Chapter 12

  Meet Lizzie’s Dad

  The man stood in front of me was short and the first thing that I noticed was his smile. He had a big, genuine smile. He also had a long and pointed nose that was bent to one side, a thin face and a good head of greying hair. Mr Raynor had on the white shirt and the sleeveless jumper that I recognised. As he got nearer I realised that Mr Raynor had green eyes.

  They reminded me of the eyes of a curious cat.

  Mr Raynor moved quickly, came towards me and gripped the tops of my arms with strong hands. He looked at me with his cat green eyes and the smile of someone reunited with an old friend. There was a long moment of silence as he looked squarely at me. Still smiling.

  Then he hugged me.

  I didn’t expect that and I didn’t really know what to do or how to react. I just let my arms hang like rags from my sides and was even more embarrassed when he lifted me off the floor. Mr Raynor smelt musty, as if his clothes had spent a long time hung up in an old wardrobe. I was relieved when he let me go to hold my shoulders again. He was still smiling.

  Eventually he spoke.

  “You’ve finally come.” He nodded slowly and his voice was high like he was pretending to be a girl. “Welcome.”

  After more seconds of smiling he took a step back and looked me up and down.

  “Well, you’re very…grey.”

  I nodded and he smiled again.

  “Sorry,” he said and stepped away from me, “but it’s good to see you. I really never thought that you’d come. Sit down, sit down.”

  Mr Raynor waved at the chair I had been sitting on. So I sat down again. His voice had a soft west-country accent, not as obvious as Lizzie’s. He stood in the middle of the front room and patted himself in search of something.

  “Lizzie, have you seen my pipe?”

  Lizzie had been stood off to one side but now she sprang into action.

  “I think you left it on your tin in the kitchen,” she said and went to get it.

  Lizzie was back in an instant and gave an old square tin and the pipe to her Dad. Meanwhile Dad had sat on the sofa and when Lizzie gave him the tin he prized the top off. Then he took a small lump of tobacco and began stuffing it into the bowl of his pipe.

  I had seen him do this in my dreams. Another wave of déjà-vu made me dizzy again. Mr Raynor began to talk.

  “I’m so grateful that you came across,” he said in his high voice, “Lizzie wasn’t sure that she could convince you to come.” Mr Raynor placed the tip of his pipe in his mouth. It was slightly to one side so he could keep talking. “How did you find it, lad?”

  I blinked. I really didn't know how to respond. “W…well, it was OK really. I think.”

  Mr Raynor grunted, in a high way, and produced a box of matches from his trouser pocket. He struck one along its side and held the flame over the tobacco stuffed into his pipe bowl. Smoke started to come from the pipe and his mouth. Soon his face was framed by it.

  “You see, the idea of time travel isn’t new.” He tookHe H the pipe from his mouth. “But its consequences don’t bear thinking about.”

  I didn’t understand what he was getting at. I needn’t have worried. Mr Raynor explained.

  “I mean,” he said, leaning back, puffing on his pipe again, “what do you think the consequences of you being here are? You might answer that your Dad is missing you, a pet or a girlfriend. You might also say that you’ve made a new friend in Lizzie here or that you’ve met me. But think about the real consequences. Now that we’ve met we'll remember you and you’ll remember us, probably forever. Or at least as long as you’re alive. So might it be safe to say that you might make decisions, based on our friendship, tomorrow, next week, next year or even twenty years from now.” Mr Raynor looked into space and puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. “Do you follow?”

  I half nodded and half shook my head. I was confused. Totally. I looked to Lizzie for help. She just shook her head.

  “My point is, Jack…’

  ‘Jay,” interrupted Lizzie.

  “What?” said Dad quickly. Lizzie might just as well have shouted ‘Boo!’

  “Jay! His name’s Jay! J-A-Y. Jay!’

  “Oh, I see. Well, Jay, my point is that you haven’t only just travelled through time. You’ve also created a set of events that will now be impossible to stop.”

  This frightened me. It sounded like the end of the world or something.

  “Should I go back then?”

  “Too late, too late.”

  Lizzie must have noticed how confused I was. She stepped in.

  “Dad, stop scaring him. He’s been through a lot.” She looked over at me. “You’ve been though a lot haven’t you, Jay?”

  “Yeah,” I replied, “I’ve never time travelled in my life.”

  Mr Raynor looked long and hard at me. I began to feel uncomfortable.

  “What does ‘yeah’ mean?” he asked.

  “Sorry. I meant ‘yes,’ Mr Raynor.”

  Mr Raynor grunted, realised his pipe had gone out and struck another match. More smoke. I hate cigarette smoke and I had nagged Dad until he gave up. But pipe smoke? It was really sweet and nice. I’d never smelt a pipe before. I liked it.

  Lizzie went and sat next to her Dad in the same way she had sat on my computer stool, knees together. She made sure her white socks were pulled up tightly to just under her kneecaps and she unwound the scarf from her neck and took off her beret. Her hair was still in pig-tails.

  “Dad,” she said, “you can tell Jay your real name. We can trust him.”

  Mr Raynor looked shocked at his own rudeness.

  “Oh dear. I’m so sorry, Jack…eh… Jay.” Mr Raynor got off the sofa and stretched out his hand. “My name is Albert. Albert Raynor. Pleased to meet you.”

  I shyly shook his hand.

  The next twenty minutes were weird. Lizzie made some tea and I had a cup and asked for three sugars. It seemed like they were running out of sugar as Mr Raynor, or Albert, only gave me half a spoonful. The tea was strong and there were bits in it that I didn’t like. Lizzie explained that these were ‘tea leaves’. They didn’t look like leaves. They were small like bits of earth. Albert puffed on his pipe and talked about ‘special powers’ and a lot of stuff that I just couldn't figure out. I found myself listening to his high voice as he explained just how these powers are difficult to come to terms with and how lonely it can be being different. I was frightened then. I didn’t want to be different like someone who has a disease. I didn’t want to be sat at home alone or at the back of the class being laughed at. Then I remembered that I was already ‘lonely’, and suddenly what Mr Raynor was saying made sense. Kyle had abandoned me and gone off with new friends (and girlfriends) and Bethany had completely disowned me. I could picture the look in her eyes when I told her about the dreams and voices. She hadn’t understood. She had suddenly discovered something that she didn’t like in me. It had frightened her. She didn’t want friends like me, friends that saw and heard strange things at night.

  Anyway, who were my friends? I just didn’t know anymore. But I was certain of one thing. I missed them and I missed home. It felt strange in this strange house with its strange smells. It felt very different. I had a dull ache in my chest, near my heart. Heartache, I suppose.

  I was polite though. I didn’t interrupt once. But more and more I thought of more familiar things. I thought about Dad, rice crispies, mashed potatoes made with milk and cheese and my warm football duvet with hard rain at my window.

  But I had started to grow fond of Albert Raynor. He was odd, that was obvious, and he liked to talk. A lot. He liked to talk about stuff I didn’t understand. I looked at Mr Raynor, with his sleeveless jumper, his pipe, his restless green eyes. He was clever, that was for sure, and I had a lot to learn. But, as he talked, my mind drifted and I thought of home.

  Still, I snapped awake, Bang! Especially when he started to explain his own dreams.

  His dreams of being me.
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  “I first saw as you about six months ago. I was stood at the window looking out when I felt I had to sit down. As soon as I did and I closed my eyes I was sat in a large room with rows of desks. There were children dressed in red jumpers and white shirts. There were large windows which let in a good deal of light all around the room and I was listening to a female teacher. She was teaching math I think.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. If it was a maths lesson he was describing, Albert Raynor had been me in Ms Roots’ class. The room was large and it was lit by big windows all the way around.

  “That would be Curly Roots,” I said to him.

  “I beg your pardon,” replied Albert. I think he was a little deaf.

  “Curly Roots. She’s my maths teacher,” I said again, a little louder this time.

  “Oh. I see.” Albert seemed to forget this almost instantly. I missed school. I thought about how the building was still only a short walk away. Then I thought about the gap of decades and I had the pain in my chest again.

  I needed to go but Albert was still talking.

  “…and then I had tea with your Dad and had a vision of an old woman on a hospital ward…”

  “My Mum!” I interrupted without really thinking about it.

  “I beg your pardon,” said Albert again.

  “You saw me visiting my Mum. She’s in hospital and she’s not well.” I looked hard at Mr Raynor. “And she’s not old.”

  This had sounded like I was defending my Mum. In a way I was. She wasn’t old. She was my Mum. I missed her and I thought of her smile and how she depended on me and Dad. It was then that I told the Raynors that I had to go back. Lizzie stood up and shot a concerned look at her Dad. Albert just sucked thoughtfully on his pipe.

  I glanced from one to the other, stood up to go but Albert surprised me again.

  “You miss her don’t you?” he said slowly.

  He was referring to my Mum. “Yes. I do.”

  Albert motioned with his pipe for me to sit down again. “Give me another second, young man.”

  I obediently sat down and Lizzie did the same. Together we watched Albert suck on a pipe that had now gone out.

  “I served in the first war. They probably teach you about that at school.” He stopped then added hastily, “or maybe they don’t. But the friends I made in that first war I miss more than you can ever imagine. So, you see, I can sympathise with you, Jay. I really can. But you choose your friends, you see. Your family are chosen for you.” Albert removed the pipe from his mouth and looked at me with those green eyes that reminded me of the cold winter sea. “And that’s why by helping us you will also help your Mum, your Dad, and yourself.”

  I thought about this for a bit.

  “Mr Raynor, I will help you find Ernie. I promise.” I meant it. I would help. But I also wanted to get back home. One more thing though.

  “Mr Raynor,” I said, standing up again,” just how will I help my family by helping yours?”

  Albert also now stood up. “No man is an island, Jay," and he took the pipe from his mouth. "No man.”

  Albert stretched his back and walked to the net curtains at the window.

  “See you then,” I said as a goodbye. I felt a little awkward when Albert simply held up his hand in reply then used this hand to hold one of the nets away from the other so he could peer out into the street. I looked at Lizzie for some understanding but she just smiled and held out her hand for me to take. I took it without any questions or the feeling of embarrassment I had before.

  I needed to go home.

  We walked back out into the kitchen but before I turned towards the bottom of the stairs I took a last look at Lizzie’s Dad. He was as I expected. As I’d seen him in my dreams.

  Looking out of the window.

  Waiting for somebody to come.

  The door was still closed at the top of the stairs but Lizzie assured me that I’d pass right through it. Things would be exactly the same as I’d left it only a short time ago. Strange that it felt like I’d been with Lizzie forever.

  She waved goodbye from the bottom of the stairs, telling me that I only needed her to cross over. Getting back to my time was easy.

  And it was. It was that easy

  As I got nearer the door at the top of the stairs it simply disintegrated. It was replaced by my green carpet and computer table.

  In the distance though, far off, a crackle and splash like a cymbal and the burning smell again. It quickly disappeared and I forgot about it.

  Climbing to the top of the stairs I saw my bedroom again and realised that everything was how I’d left it. Nothing had changed.

  That was the weirdest thing.

  And a small part of me, the tiniest little bit of me, wished it had.