Skipping the light fandango- 1st ride report, like no other.
Mar 13, 2020 16:30:51 GMT -5
SuzukiRE5 and cp9800 like this
Post by toddyboy on Mar 13, 2020 16:30:51 GMT -5
Toddyboy (Graham Zimmatore) is a published author with at least three action/adventure novels under his belt (Global Heist, Mirrors in the Sky and Genetic Meltdown). It's novel (no pun intended) to have an RE5 feature....
A strange thing happened on my first test ride.
Chapter 1.
I was speeding home along the A41 after a cracking day at the Ace Café Classic Japanese Bike day. I loved the atmosphere of that place and some of those old bikes were just awesome. Of course, my Suzuki RE5M had been the star of the show. Rarer than rocking horse nuts and quirkier than Billy Eilish’s hair it was one of only a handful in the UK and fully restored it looked the bollocks.
It may be 45 years old but it only has 10,000 miles on it; barely run in really. Me, I'm into my 62nd year but as I thundered along on this ol’ bike I felt like a teenager again. Flicking it round the roundabouts and blasting off down the straits I had a grin so wide you could have slipped a double decker bus through it.
The weather had been bright and sunny all day but unfortunately as is often the case in the UK, dark clouds, which only a few minutes earlier looked like they were only skimming the horizon now seemed to be heading my way at an alarming rate. Then again, I only had another ten miles to go so I wasn’t overly worried.
As expected, there was a fair bit of traffic to contend with but the conditions were perfect for a jaunt on this ever obliging rotary – at least they were at the moment. I figured that if I gave it some welly I could probably make it back home before I got a proper soaking.
Before I’d set off from the Ace I’d phoned my missus who’d said there’d be a hot dish of her famous cottage pie waiting for me in the oven when I got back. I was getting peckish having not eaten anything since midday so I dropped down into fourth gear and opened her up. This old bike wasn’t the fastest kid on the block but there was plenty of torque on hand, it handled well with the new set of Pirelli Angels I’d had fitted and with that dramatic roar from the twin dual skinned and front vented exhausts I had to admit this really was a lotta bike for the money.
I passed the old MoD station which back in the day had a been key to the war effort. It had been closed down for some years but word on the street was that the Government were using the premises again though no one seemed to know why. It was all hush, hush apparently. There was a bit of controversy about the goings on there however. Locals had been complaining that strange lights and sounds could be heard coming from there on occasion and there had been several electrical power cuts in the areas surrounding it. There were also rumours of local people and even vehicles disappearing and never being seen again. ‘London’s very own Bermuda Triangle’ the local paper had touted, before it suddenly went out of circulation. I never took much notice of all that to be honest. North London could be a dodgy place at the best of times. I had better things to think about and right now I was caught up in the euphoria of riding a rare and fast classic bike and loving every minute of it.
Up ahead in the distance more flashes of lightning followed by even louder claps of thunder in an ever darkening sky forewarned me that if I got caught out in this I’d be in real trouble and it was just my luck that I was heading straight for it flat out. It was fast becoming a game of chicken now - me against Thor’s Hammer and I had no intention of being the nail. Clicking up into 5th and with a sense of renewed urgency I snapped the RE5’s throttle back and gave it some beans. The bike shimmied a bit, the tacho needle yawed to the right and as the speedo hovered just over 100mph the road ahead began to blur as spatters of rain began appearing on my visor, not enough to have to wipe away but still an omen of the impending deluge to come.
There was a car up ahead, a Beemer by the looks of it and as I prepared to overtake it another flash of lightning, this time a lot closer and much more intense erupted from the sky. It was so intense it blinded me momentarily. At that very same moment I felt a cold shiver surged through my body. Unable to see properly and shocked by the sudden temperature shift I instinctively shut off the throttle.
As my eyes began to focus again I looked down at the speedo which was now dipping just below sixty. That Beemer which had been no more than 30 metres ahead of me had disappeared, but where? The driver couldn’t have accelerated off that fast could he? I checked my mirrors then looked behind to see if I’d passed it but it was nowhere to be seen. It was as if it’d vanished into thin air. Not only that, there were no other vehicles on the road either. None! Seconds earlier I’d counted at least 5 cars and a truck up ahead of me and several more on the other side of the road. Where the hell did they go?
I was really shivering now. My first thought was I’d been hit by the lightning and somehow survived! The bike was still running fine though and I was definitely not singed or hurt in any way but the road looked different, and unless I was dreaming it appeared to be much narrower. I slowed down to 30mph in an attempt to gather my senses. Something very odd was going on here. Not only did the road appear to have altered and the traffic vanished but the storm had gone too. The rain had completely stopped and there were no clouds in the sky at all.
With nowhere safe to pull over and stop I carried on at a steady 50 or so taking note that the road was still completely devoid of traffic. Not a single vehicle anywhere in sight. That was a first, I thought. The A41 was never this clear. But to be honest this didn’t even look like the A41 anymore. Had I taken a wrong turn somewhere without realising it? I just couldn’t figure it out. Also, I felt physically different, lighter somehow and more alert than I’d felt in a long time. Wow! This was nuts. It was as if I’d just skipped the light fandango.
The Elstree roundabout was coming up ahead. I changed down a couple of gears, flicked the bike round it and carried on. Then I had a thought. Where actually was the M1 Motorway? Before you got to this roundabout you went over it but I swear I never went over any bridge. I was about to pull over and check the sat-nav on my phone when I spied headlights in my wing mirror. A couple of bikes were coming up behind me. Jeez, at last – something normal! Moments later they’d caught up and were now cruising alongside me, one behind the other. The lead bike was a classic Triumph 5TA in pristine condition. The other was a Matchless. Probably on their way back from the Ace café I guessed. I waved to them but the riders didn’t return the gesture, they just maintained their speed and kept staring at my bike through their goggles, pointing at it and shouting something unintelligible to each other. Then they accelerated off and for me, that was it - I dropped a gear and headed after them in hot pursuit. Always up for a bit of a race, me. The next section of road was a long straight and I passed them doing ninety, changing up to sixth as I did so and leaving them in the dust.
Satisfied with my ton up prowess I eased off on the throttle and checked my mirrors, noticing that the two Brit bike riders were way back in the distance. Then something really weird caught my eye. The Hilton Hotel that had been there since before I could remember simply wasn’t there anymore. Instead, there was what looked like a transport café with a lot of bikes outside and people milling around them. I checked the mirrors, grabbed a handful of brake and slowed the bike down to get a better look. Something definitely wasn’t right here. The sign outside the café said BUSY BEE CAFE, but that didn’t make any sense. That place had shut down years ago and a hotel had gone up on the site, yet if my eyes weren’t deceiving me there it was as plain as day.
I had to check this out, so I indicated right and zipped across the road. The two classic British bikes I’d passed had caught up with me now and followed me in. I could now see there were dozens of old bikes parked up outside the front of the café and as I pulled up on the RE5 the gaggle of bikers hanging around all turned to stare at me. They weren’t exactly friendly stares either. I felt like I’d entered a forbidden zone or something. No sooner had I stopped and turned off the ignition I was encircled by them. The majority of them were all dressed in black leather jackets, rocker style. For a moment I thought I was in serious trouble. These guys looked spooked and all eyes were on me.
The bikes I’d just left for dead up the road pulled up either side of me. Both of the riders also appeared more than a bit agitated. “What the hell is that?” the bloke on the 5TA barked as he removed his helmet and goggles. He was tall, gangly and unkempt with an Elvis style quiff dangling across his forehead.
I looked at him askance and shrugged. “It’s an RE5,” I replied.
“An R-E what?” he queried, and started inspecting my bike in an ultra inquisitive manner.
Now of course, as far as I was concerned my old RE5 was lovely looking bike and always attracted interest wherever I went with it. But this character and his posse were more than just interested. They appeared to be genuinely taken aback by it and more than a little confused. I overheard the guy on the Matchless excitedly relaying to one of the bystanders what had just happened earlier. “Came past us like a rocket it did,” he was effusing.
“Wot’s a Suzz-ooki when it’s at ‘ome?” he asked, peering inquisitively at the letters on the side of the fuel tank.
“Yeah, an’ look at that weird thing on the ‘andlebars,” said another, pointing at the instrument box.
Something definitely wasn’t right here and I could feel a lump forming in the pit of my stomach. Anyone who rode a bike had most likely heard about the Suzuki RE5 even if they hadn’t actually seen one. Yeah ok, it was a very rare bike to see out on the roads these days but none of these characters seemed to have a clue about it. Who were these idiots I thought. But there was more to this than met the eye. All these young guys looked like they’d just come off the set of a James Dean movie. Then there was this café, the Busy Bee, it shouldn’t be here! None of it made any sense.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“The Busy Bee o’ course, and you’re a long way from ‘ome by the sounds of it, mate” said Mr pseudo Elvis. “Where ya from?” he asked.
“Watford, I live in Garston, Watford,” I replied.
“That’s five miles down the road from ‘ere mate. You sure you ain’t been drinkin’?” said another short stubby guy with a baby face.
The rest of the gang all laughed which made me even more uneasy.
“Never seen him ‘ere before. Never seen nuffink like that bike either,” said a teenage girl, the only female among them. “Woss your name?” she asked.
“Tod,” I replied.
By now the whole café had emptied out and I found myself surrounded by at least thirty leather clad teenagers all wanting to know what all the commotion was about and all vying for a glimpse of my bike.
“Bloody weird helmet you got there mate,” said another young guy, peering inquisitively at my full face flip up HJC helmet.
“How fast’s it go then?” the tall gangly guy asked, leaning over to look at the speedo.
“Tops out at about a hundred and twenty,” I replied.
As if on cue the entire entourage burst out into uncontrollable laughter. I don’t know why but I started to feel a bit queasy. I had the beginnings of a headache and I needed a drink, or something. Jumping off the bike, I made my way through the gawping bunch of Marlon Brando wannabe’s and into the café. A few of them cautiously followed me in but the majority stayed glued to the RE5, talking excitedly amongst themselves. As I stepped inside a jukebox was playing an old classic song ‘Cross over the Bridge’ by Patti Page. The chorus lyrics ‘cross over the bridge, oh brother cross over the bridge’ seemed to resonate in my psyche for some reason.
I looked around me and noticed a Telegraph newspaper on one of the tables. Something about it made me stop and pick it up. It felt crisp and new but it was the content that caught my attention. The headlines read “Bannister breaks four-minute mile. Roger Bannister, a 25-year-old British medical student, has become the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes. His time was 3mins 59.4 seconds, achieved at the Iffley Road track in Oxford and watched by about 3,000 spectators” I looked at the top of the page. The date on it was May 7th 1954!
I put the paper back down on the table and noticed my hands were shaking. I looked around me again, hoping to see something that might be familiar. The walls were clad with green and cream tiles and there was a mosaic of a bee on one of them. The place was virtually empty. Everyone was outside save an old boy washing some cups behind the counter. What was it that was missing in this picture? Then I realised. It was the lack of digital technology. No TV, no mobile phones or laptops. Nothing. Reactively, I reached inside my jacket and pulled out my iPhone. No signal, not even a server. For some reason I started to feel a bit frightened and alone.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped. The young girl who’d asked me my name had followed me in and was peering inquisitively at my iPhone. “Wossat then Toddy boy?” she asked, seemingly mesmerised by the screensaver.
I ignored her question and quickly pocketed the phone. I was now starting to feel quite sick. “Where’s your toilet mate?” I asked the old boy behind the counter.
“It’s outside in the yard young fella,” he said, pointing to the back door.
‘Young fella,’ ha – I wish. Stumbling out to the toilet, I went to the washbasin, looked in the cracked mirror and immediately turned to look behind me. Nothing! I looked back at the mirror. Staring back at me was a young guy with a full set of hair and no beard. It was me, but it wasn’t me. I looked no more than about eighteen years old. I patted my face as did the apparition in the mirror. My knees began to buckle under me. I had to grab onto the washbasin to steady myself. What the hell was happening here? I reached into my pocket checked my phone again – nothing! Then I puked up. When I finally stumbled outside again that girl was waiting there for me.
“You alright Toddy boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.
I just stood there looking at her. It took me a few moments to recover my senses then I realised what she was saying. A ghost – yes, I had seen one. It was me. I was dead. I was sure of it. I’d been hit by lightning during that storm and died on the spot. There was no other explanation for it. The thing was though, I could feel, smell and see everything around me. I pinched my arm hard. It hurt just like it should. Then cautiously, I reached out and touched the young girl’s face. It was soft and smooth and warm – and very real. She gave me a coy smile and giggled.
“What’s your name? I asked.
“Ooh cheeky!” she replied with a churlish grin. “I’m Tina. Better be careful though, my boyfriend’s that tall fella you were talking to out front and he gets real jealous if uvver blokes get fresh wiv me,” she warned.
“What year is it?” I asked.
“What yer talkin’ about?” she replied.
“Just tell me what year it is?” I repeated. The urgency in my voice made her wince a bit.
“Well, it’s 1954 o-course. Woss the matter wiv ya. Lost yer marbles or something?” she scoffed.
But I wasn’t in a fit state to banter. Whatever had happened up the road back there was no small thing. If this was the real deal and I wasn’t dead then I’d just been transported back to a time four years before I was even born!
Chapter 2.
I was still dazed and confused as I walked back into the Café with the girl in tow. The place was empty save that old boy still washing glasses behind the counter. “They’re all outside gawking at that machine o’ yours,” he said.
And so they were. By now there were at least forty people surrounding the RE5. I took a few deep breaths and went to walk outside but before I reached the door the girl grabbed me by the arm and stopped me. “I’m Tina by the way, Tina Teaser,” she said, giving me that coy flirtatious look again. “Wossup? I can tell you’re sad about something.”
Sad! So many things were whirling through my head it felt more like I was mad, not sad. The only connection with this pseudo reality I found myself encapsulated in was this petulant little bird standing next to me. I reached out and touched her face again and she smiled. She seemed to enjoy the attention.
“See! There you go. Life’s not so bad is it,” she said swiping my jacket gently with her hand.
She had dark green eyes, pert lips, and under that leather jacket she had other pert other things as well, a real looker. Then it began to dawn on me that somehow, someway, based on the reflection that I’d seen in that broken mirror in the bathroom that I must be about the same age as her. I’d need to watch myself here, I mused. Anyway, better not dwell on that I thought or I’d be for it if my missus found out I was flirting with a teenage biker babe at the Busy Bee Cafe. Then another thought crossed my mind; if this really was 1954 my missus didn’t even exist yet. She wouldn’t even be born for another fifteen years! It was too much to take in. I felt lightheaded and stumbled. Luckily I grabbed hold of the back of a chair to stop me from falling.
Sitting down for a moment I reflected on the events of the last hour. Somehow, someway, me and my trusty steed had been catapulted back into the mid-fifties and not only that, forty years or so had been shaved off my age in the bargain. How could that be possible? Well, it couldn’t. It was impossible. I started to wonder if someone had spiked my coke with LSD at the Ace Café earlier in the day. I thought about it again. No, they wouldn’t do that.
There was a part of me, the bonkers part that is, that got a bit of a kick out of this nutty scenario. The other part, the sensible side of me, was wondering if I’d ever get back to my own time and if I’d ever see my wife, kids and grandchildren again. So, with that conundrum sloshing about in my head I steeled myself and walked outside.
There was an excited buzz in the air. The RE5 was the reason for it of course. Not surprising really. Japanese bikes were unheard of in England in 1954, let alone something as technically advanced and unusual as this. It would probably be another decade or so before it was even a twinkle in its designer’s inscrutable eye. As I approached the motley crew of bikers surrounding it an uneasy silence descended as they parted to let me through. I figured to myself that there was no way this was real, that this must be a dream and that I’d wake up soon enough, so while I was in it I might as well have some fun. Retrieving the keys out of my pocket I straddled the RE5. “Who’s up for a race then?” I asked.
With no further encouragement needed a dozen or so wannabe racers made for their bikes and moments later the air was filled with the roar of British twins and singles thumping into life. I donned my helmet, flicked the ignition key on and pressed the starter button. That in itself caused a sensation amongst those watching. Electric start on a motorbike! Holy smoke! The big Rotary fired up. Clicking it into gear I spun the bike round and faced the entrance to the road. A little guy raced up to the front of the entourage and shouted “Records started!” and then darted out of the way.
Mr Elvis pulled up alongside me on his Triumph and pointed up the road. “Up to the Elstree roundabout and back again,” he yelled over the noise of his revving vertical twin, and with that he was off! Several others followed hot on his heels. I waited a few seconds then tore off after them. Clicking up into 2nd gear I let her rip and within a few seconds I was tearing past the pack one by one. By the time I’d reached the roundabout they were several seconds behind me. Leaning the RE5 over as far as I dared I managed to get safely round it (Those Pirelli Demons I’d fitted were a good call) and I was heading back towards the Busy Bee before any of them had even reached the roundabout. I waved at them as I roared past them going in the opposite direction. I had to admit, dream or no dream this was fun! With adrenaline rushing through my veins I hammered the RE5 down the road hitting 110mph on the main straight. By the time they’d all arrived back I was standing by my bike, helmet off and tapping my toes.
Mr Quiff got off his bike and sauntered over to me. As he did so that girl Tina appeared and hooked her arm around his. She was obviously his girlfriend but I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she had other ideas.
“Eddie’s the name,” he said, holding out his hand. “Eddie Cochran.”
I just stood there dumfounded. Eddie Cochran. My God, you couldn’t make it up. In fact you couldn’t make any of this up! That’s why I knew it was just a dream. “I’m Tod. Nice to meet you Eddie,” I replied, and shook his hand.
Apparently, I’d set the fastest time on record for what they called “looping the loop” i.e. making it to the Elstree roundabout and back before the Bill Hayley song ‘Rock around the clock’ finished. After that I was considered one of the boys and I spent the next half hour or so fending off questions about the RE5 such as “what c.c. is it? – how come it’s so quick? - what’s that weird flip up cylinder thingy on the handlebars? – how come it’s got no kickstart lever? – who makes Soo-Zukki’s? etc. etc. They wanted to know all about me and what I was wearing too, where I got my weird looking helmet and how they could get one? Where I lived? all that kind of stuff but as you can imagine I was a bit stumped there. What was I going to say? ‘Oh, I was hit by a bolt of lightning and was transported here from the future and oh by the way, I’m not actually even born yet.’ That’d go down well wouldn’t it! So I lied. I told them I was a road tester for a new foreign motorbike company. I didn’t let on that the RE5 was Japanese. I figured that might not be too well received seeing as the Second World War had only ended a few years back. It wasn’t exactly a very watertight story but it was all I could think of at the time and they seemed to accept it. They weren’t exactly the brightest bunch after all.
By now my stomach was rumbling. I’d puked up everything I had in my stomach earlier and this time warp nuts was energy sapping. I felt dead beat. I needed some grub and some rest, in that order so I ordered a pie and chips, in fact that’s all there was on offer but when I pulled out a tenner and gave it to the old boy behind the counter he just looked at it and scowled, muttering something about Monopoly money. Then I realised that of course my money was no good here. It was way ahead of its time. I quickly snatched the note back before he got a good look at it and was trying to figure out what to do next when that girl Tina came to my rescue. She offered to pay for the food. It cost sixpence! She said I could pay her back later. When I sat down to eat she sat opposite me and as I scoffed down the food she just sat there staring at me.
“Where you really from, Tod?” she said.
I paused eating and just gawped at her. She knew I wasn’t telling the whole truth. This girl was obviously fascinated by me, by my bike and the fact that it was quicker and more exotic than anything anyone had ever seen before but she was also a woman, and women know when a bloke’s telling porky pies. “You really want to know?” I replied hesitantly.
“Yeah, I really do,” she said.
“Let me eat this first,” I said, tucking in to what was actually a delicious steak and kidney pie and chips.
It was getting late and the Café was emptying out. Bikes were firing up and heading off into the night. The motley crew (that was my nickname for the gaggle of bikers) were a friendly bunch and they all, to a man, said their goodbyes to me as they left, many of them asking if I’d be here tomorrow, but I didn’t really know what to say to that. I was in a quandary. I shouldn’t even be here at all and not only that, this girl Tina had rumbled me. She knew there was something odd going on, which of course there was and it was then I had another daunting concept to ponder. I had no money, well no money that would be accepted here and my credit and debit cards hadn’t even been invented yet. I also had no home to go to either. If my memory served me right my house had been built in the mid sixties. I was a lost soul in a strange world that once was.
Tina jolted out of my reverie. “So you gonna tell me then, or what?” she asked.
I looked up and for a moment and was captivated by those inquisitive sparkling green eyes staring back at me. How the hell was I going to explain to her that I’d come back from the future and that I was really 62 years old with a wife, four kids and two grandchildren?
“Well?” she urged.
Just as I was about to open my mouth there was a commotion at the entrance door and Eddie rushed in with a worried look on his face. “Oi Tod, there’s a couple of Rozzers outside eyeing up your bike,” he warned.
Cops! That’s all I needed. I immediately jumped up off my chair and hotfooted it outside. There were two of them. A black Humber patrol car with a big blue light on the top was parked next to my bike and one of the cops was shining a torch on the back of it. The other one, a big burly guy with a beard was scrutinising the engine. Then I realised what they were interested in – the bloody number plate! It was of course yellow with black lettering. All the plates on the other bikes had black backgrounds with white or silver numerals. Obviously the one on my bike wouldn’t make sense to them. The copper with the torch shone it in my face as I approached him. “Evening officers. Can I help you?” I asked holding my hand up in front of my face to shield my eyes from the glare.
“This your bike son?” the bigger one asked.
“It is yeah. Is there a problem?” I replied.
“Strange registration plate,” he said.
I was stumped. I had to think quick. “Oh, er, it’s a prototype plate,” I lied.” My heart was pumping fast now. I knew that cops of this era didn’t have the technical backup from my day. No DVLA computers, mobile phones or anything like that and it was the only thing I could think of.
The big bearded cop looked over at his partner who raised his eyebrows and shrugged as if to say ‘aint got a clue.’ “Prototype eh! What’s the “N” prefix stand for then?"
(It was a 1975 bike on an N plate, as it should be. Only, 1975 was 21 years in the future!)
Er, it’s er ……. a Dutch bike bike. N stands for Netherlands!” I blurted out. I couldn’t think of anything else at that particular moment.
“Netherlands! Long way from Holland aren’t you sonny?” he probed. “You don’t sound very Dutch to me.” He was one of those seasoned cops, with a perpetual air of suspicion. “Odd looking bike too. Never seen one of these before have you Pete”? he asked his partner.
Policeman Pete just shook his head obliquely. He obviously had no clue of what a Netherlands number plate looked like and also didn’t appear too interested in bikes at all. I was hoping Officer big beard was going to be of the same inclination but unfortunately he wasn’t. “Got any documentation on you son?” he asked.
Oh nuts, now I was for it.
At that very moment the radio in the police car crackled. I caught some of it - something about a multi vehicle RTA in Hendon. Pete took the call and beckoned to my interrogator. Apparently they were being ordered to attend the accident. Big beard’s inquisitive demeanour changed immediately and to my utter relief he dropped his line of questioning. “Ok, ride safe son, and keep your speed down on that thing” he warned as he shuffled off. Then the two cops jumped into their Humber and sped off.
As I watched the Humber disappear into the night I breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been a lot more complicated.
“So you’re from Nevelands eh?” said Tina, hands on hips. “You’re fulla surprises you are Toddyboy.”
I didn’t confirm it but I didn’t deny it either.
Eddie had also been listening in on my banter with the cops. “Where’s Neverlands then?” he asked. He wasn’t the brightest kid in the class this guy.
“Holland. On the other side of the English Channel,” I replied.
A faint smirk of disbelief crossed his lips but it was tinged with a look of respect. “Bloody ‘ell. You come all that way on that bike?” he exclaimed.
“I’ve come a very long way, mate,” I replied.
“Hats off to you mate. Well, I’m off,” said Eddie looking at Tina as if to say are you coming too.
Tina declined, telling him she had to go home so he took her aside, gave her a snog then roared off into the night on his 5TA with a couple of his mates following in his wake.
“You really from Neverlands?” Tina asked.
The way she said that made me chuckle inside. I didn’t want to lie but the concept of telling her the truth just didn’t seem logical right then and there. I decided to sidetrack the conversation. “Actually, I’m knackered. I need to get some sleep. It’s been a really long day,” I said. That wasn’t a lie.
“Where are you going to stay then?” she asked.
Jesus! Did this bird ever stop asking awkward questions! But she’d hit a nerve. Where was I going to stay? I had no home to go to. Not anymore.
Again, Tina had me on the hop, but again she came to my rescue. “If you like you can stay at my place. It’s just me and me Mum live there. My dad died years ago. You can sleep on the sofa.
I had to think about it for a moment. My house, my wife, my family didn’t even exist yet. I was stranded in a time before I was even born yet the environment around me was vaguely familiar. How was I going to get back to reality? What would I do if I couldn’t? It was all too much to contemplate right now. I needed time to figure it all out and more than anything I needed sleep. I was bushed and this girl was the only person who was willing to help me. I had no choice but to follow her lead and take things as they came.
“I can’t ride this bike with this number plate on it though,” I said, gesturing towards the fluorescent yellow plate on the back of the RE5.
Tina smiled, zipped open her leather jacket, and pulled out a screwdriver from the inside breast pocket. “We can change it for my one then,” she replied. Her bike was an AJS 250. Within a few minutes she’d removed the rear number plate and replaced mine with it. “I’ll leave my bike here for tonight. Old Joe will look after it for me,” she said. (Joe was the proprietor of the place apparently.) “I’ll ride pillion with you!”
There wasn’t much else I could do or say about that, so without further ado Tina donned her helmet and jumped on the back. “I live near Hunton Bridge in Abbotts Langley,” she said, pointing West.
I knew where Hunton Bridge was. I’d messed around there when I was a kid so I headed off that way wondering to myself where all this was going to end.
Chapter 3:
Back out on the road, I started to calm down a bit. The only thing that had any semblance of reality for me at the moment was riding the RE5. Everything else since that lightning bolt hit me was a blur of bonkers bullnuts. The bike was running sweet. The little idiosyncrasies of the engine as the primary and secondary port valves overlapped when the revs reached 4,000rpm, the unique sound coming from those quirky exhaust pipes and the familiar view of the cylindrical instrument canister in front of me were comforting. I felt at home on this machine. Tina seemed to be enjoying herself on the back. She kept saying how smooth the bike was, and how fast!
Then I caught a glimpse in my wing mirror of a car coming up behind me. At first I didn’t pay it too much attention and simply sped up a little, but the car did the same. It wasn’t trying to overtake; it just kept pace with me even though I’d accelerated up to over 75mph now. Then, as we hit a straight section of road it did attempt to overtake but instead of going past it came up alongside us. There appeared to be two people in it and the person in the passenger side was motioning with his hand for me to pull over.
Who the hell were these guys? Cops again maybe? though this car didn’t look like a Police patrol car. Then I realised it was an American car and the guy in the passenger seat was actually driving it because it was LHD. Whoever they were they were intent on me pulling over. I didn’t want to put Tina at risk by trying to outrun them so I slowed the bike down and stopped. I hit the kill switch but remained seated on the bike. I felt Tina tense as she prepared to get off the back but I told her to stay where she was.
The car pulled up about ten metres ahead of us and two men got out and began walking towards us. At that same moment I became aware of another vehicle, a dark coloured van pulling up and stopping behind us. I heard the sound of a sliding door being pulled open and then I saw a heavy set guy in blue overalls got out and start walking purposefully our way. Something didn’t feel right. There was some sort of collusion between these three as if they knew each other. The driver of the car seemed to sense my concern and I noticed his eyes dart furtively to the man walking up behind us.
Something was about to happen here and by the looks of it, nothing good. In a split second decision I flicked the kill switch to on, stabbed the starter button and the engine roared into life. I grabbed the clutch lever, clicked into first gear and gave it a fistful of throttle. The RE5 surged forward.
The two men up ahead jumped sideways as I gunned the bike straight at them but the bigger one tried to grab hold of me as I shot passed him. I managed to parry his lunge but he got a grab-hold of my jacket. I pulled away but with him still hanging onto me and trying to pull me off. Tina lashed out with her right boot and landed one right in his midriff causing him to lose his grip. He lost his balance, toppled sideways and fell.
I blasted off down the road with my jacket arm half torn off and with Tina hanging on for dear life. I had no time to think straight. We’d gotten away but what the hell was that all about and who the hell were those guys?
I’d just changed up into fourth gear and was really moving it when the engine spluttered, backfired and then stopped altogether. The big heavy bike slowed down to a halt soon after. Oh no! Please No! I stabbed the starter button but it wouldn’t fire. Jesus! I glanced in the rear view mirror to see that Yank car now in hot pursuit. We weren’t far ahead of them. They’d be on us in moments. Then I realised what was wrong. The bike had run out of petrol! Hold on, no it hadn’t – it had a manual reserve. I reached down and fiddled around to find the petrol stopcock. I twisted it forward and thumbed the starter again. The engine cranked over, then it coughed, caught once and then, thank God it roared into life.
I looked behind again. The car was gaining speed. Slamming the bike into first I tore off down the road again with Tina clinging on the back. The twin exhausts barked and the rev counter topped out as we surged into the night. When I looked back the car was still not far behind us but was losing ground. Whatever I did, I had to get these guys off our tail so I dropped down a gear and gunned it. Hedgerows whooshed past either side like storm-clouds as I flicked the bike through the bends. Once again I thanked my lucky stars I’d fitted those Pirelli Angels.
Reaching the crest of a steep hill on full chat, the front wheel came off the ground and it was all I could do to keep the bike in a straight line as it wheelied down the other side. Tina was hanging on for dear life. Ahead of me was a long straight that went on for about half a mile. Twisting the throttle to the stop I blasted down it. After a minute or so I looked back. The car was receding in the distance. Thank f**k for that. Then up ahead, I saw more lights. It was another car coming towards us. Then to my utter horror it veered across the road and headed straight for us, flashing its headlights at me!
I slammed on the brakes. The forks nosedived and the violent inertia threw both of us forward. I managed to hold onto the bars with Tina scrambling on my back but then the back wheel started to lose traction. I could hardly hold it. We were going to hit the car head on! Tina screamed, pulling on my arm as she started to slide sideways.
Everything seemed to slow down at that moment. We were still travelling at well over seventy miles per hour with the bike starting to slew sideways but for some reason it felt a lot slower than that. My mind must have been working so fast that time slowed down around me. Luckily, the front wheel was still facing forwards.
Up ahead, the car was on a collision course with us. The RE5’s back tyre was still spinning like mad as it attempted to gain some grip on the road surface. In a split second I realised we had one chance, and one chance only to avoid a fatal impact. With only thirty metres or so between me and the bonnet of the car ahead, I slammed the throttle shut and jabbed my heel down on the back brake lever. The rear tyre squealed and bit into the tarmac. At that exact moment I dropped a gear and yanked back on the throttle. The bike surged forward, but this time sliding the other way and at such an angle that the right foot-peg was spewing out sparks. The RE5 blasted across the road onto the other side of the central white lines like it’d been sling–shotted from a catapult.
The car up ahead had almost pulled up to a stop now but we were still going it, and some! We shot past its left side with me still wrestling with the bike’s shuddering handlebars as they tried to wrench themselves from my grip, I managed to keep it in a straight line till I finally brought it to a stop about fifty metres further on down the road. Tina was barely on the bike. She was half hanging off the right side but she was ok. Then I looked behind me.
The two guys who’d been chasing us in the Yank-mobile also had to make an emergency manoeuvre to avoid the other oncoming car. They’d narrowly escaped a head on collision but in doing so had ended up careering off the road and ploughing the front of their vehicle into a hedgerow. It was still running and they were trying to reverse out of the hedge but the rear wheels were spinning in the mud. The driver was leaning out the window shouting something in a language that was foreign to me to a man who’d jumped out of the other car that we’d nearly hit and who was running over to help him.
I decided not to hang about. These guys were obviously in cahoots and this was our best chance to get the hell away from them, whoever they were. I clicked the RE5 into gear and with Tina now securely planted on the pillion seat with her arms wrapped securely round my waist I roared off in the opposite direction from our pursuers at full pelt. I felt like we were out of danger now but to my utter dismay, as I accelerated down a long straight road heading to f**k knows where I looked back only to see headlights following us again. Holy crap! What was I going to have to do to get rid of these guys?
The solution to that problem presented itself rather rapidly though. Just around the next bend was a hump back bridge that took the road over a river. It wasn’t visible till you’d rounded the corner and I’d already got to that point. I slammed the bike down through the gears and braked as hard as I could. The tyres protested, skidding and squealing under the strain of a 500lb bike two up trying to shred them to bits but they held, just, and as the hump back bridge reared up in my forward vision I managed to pull the RE5 into an upright position. Up and over we went with both wheels in the air, then down hard onto the tarmac on the other side with a resounding crunch as the suspension bottomed out. By some miracle I managed to keep the blue behemoth upright and as soon as I’d regained control I slammed on the brakes again, locking the rear wheel with the back tyre screaming as it cut a swathe of black rubber into the tarmac.
I immediately looked back, wondering where our pursuers had gotten to. The sound of a high powered motor at full revs then screeching tyres answered that question as the big Yank car came hurtling round the corner and slammed on its brakes in a dramatic attempt to stop before it too hit the hump in the road. But it couldn’t slow down in time. Going over that bridge at say forty miles per hour would have been difficult, but with his wheels locked solid and at the speed he was going he didn’t stand a chance. The front bumper disintegrated as it slammed into the raised section of tarmac, upending the heavy car’s back wheels. Now hopelessly out of control it smashed into the brick wall that lined the side of the bridge and crashed straight through it sending bricks, mortar and smashed glass beads from the car’s windscreen cascading into the air. For a moment it just hung there, teetering halfway on and halfway off the bridge. Then came a grinding, graunching sound and Tina and I watched in muted awe as the hulking chunk of crippled metal toppled slowly forwards. Then, almost as if we were watching a slow motion film clip, it dipped forward and slithered off the edge, crashing into the fast moving water below with an almighty splash.
For a moment, there was an eerie silence, broken only by the rhythmic pulse of the river as it coursed under the bridge. Several people had exited from the pub further down the road now to see what all the commotion was about and before long the bridge was teeming with shouting, alarmed locals, some of them frantically calling out for help while others peered over the bridge’s brick wall trying to get a glimpse of the car that had just careered into the river below.
I decided it was time to make ourselves scarce. Whoever those guys in that car were, they were no friends of ours. I didn’t even care if they could swim or not. They could fend for themselves. I thumbed the RE5’s starter button and as innocuously as possible rode away from the accident scene in the opposite direction. We reached Tina’s house about ten minutes later just as the low fuel level warning light flickered on.
Chapter 4:
Something was tugging at my shoulder. “Toddyboy, wake up!” I opened my eyes and there was Tina was staring down at me. I flinched and pulled back.
“You’ve been making strange noises in yer sleep,” she said. “Here I brought you a cuppa.”
I sat up, rubbed my eyes and looked around me. I was in a small sitting room perched on an old sofa that by the looks of it I’d slept on. I was totally disoriented. “How did I get here?” I muttered.
Tina looked at me a bit strange. “You rode here on your bike with me on the back, remember?”
I feebly reached for the cuppa, obligingly held there by Tina and clasped it with both hands. It was hot! Reactively, I grabbed the cup handle with my right hand and let go with my left. It was all coming back to me now.
“Bad dream”? Tina asked.
I just looked up at her with a blank stare. Bad dream! Are you kidding love? I’m trapped in a time before I was born and if that wasn’t bad enough We’d both nearly been made into mincemeat by a bunch of maniacs in a Chevy who were now most likely all laying dead at the bottom of a fast flowing river. That’s not a dream! More like a nightmare on speed if you ask me. Even worse, there was nothing I could do about it. I pinched myself again – hard, just to be sure. I winced. It hurt.
Tina looked at me strangely. “That’s the second time I’ve seen you do that,” she said.
“Where’s my bike?” I asked, ignoring her comment
“Out back in the garden where you left it,” Tina replied, sitting down beside me on the old threadbare sofa.
“I feel like nuts,” I moaned as I sipped on the tea.
“I’m not surprised after what happened last night, Toddyboy. You’re a strange one you are and you know some even stranger people,” she said. “Who were those maniacs?”
I just shrugged. “No idea but they weren’t friends of mine if that what you mean,” I replied.
“You hungry? I can make us some breakfast if you like,” she offered.
I nodded absently and with that, Tina got up and went out of the room. I sat there for a moment feeling pretty sorry for myself. Who were those guys? There was an old radio sitting on the sideboard, like something my Nan would have owned. I reached over, turned it on and fiddled with the dial. I couldn’t get anything other than a classical music station. As I sat there listening to it I heard something else. It sounded vaguely familiar. What was it? Then my heart skipped a beat. It was my phone’s ring-tone! The familiar noise burbled out from inside my bike jacket. WTF! Someone was calling me. How? In a mad panic I lurched forward to grab my jacket which was spread out on the coffee table, inadvertently dumping the cup of tea on the floor as I did so. Frantically fumbling around inside of my the breast pocket I snatched the phone out. My hands were trembling as I looked at it in anticipation. There was no number showing. I pressed the red circle and held the phone to my ear.
“Hello!”
“Do not …ell anyone what happened. Do you ….erstand?” came a faint, jerky voice.
There was a lot of background noise, a kind of whistling sound that fluctuated up and down but and I couldn’t really hear what was being said properly.
“Who the hell is this?” I replied.
“You must not ..veal who you really are or whe.. you came from,” the voice asserted.
I could feel my pulse pounding in my ear. My hands were shaking, for if this wasn’t another dream inside this ever present nightmare then I really WAS connected to someone on this smartphone that in NO way could be connected to any network as there wasn’t any network, internet, satellites or WiFi, yet the voice was real and whoever it was, was talking directly to ME!
“Wha .. what do I do then?” was all I could mutter.
“We’ve been ….. to get hold of you …or some time. Does your device have ..attery enough to last a few hours?” asked the voice.
What was that he was saying - ‘battery’ maybe? I looked at the charge indicator. It was on 1%. nuts! “No, it’s almost dead,” I replied. “Who are you and how can you be talking to me on this phone?” I demanded to know.
“Do … have a means to …eep it charged,” the voice asked.
The background interference was getting worse.
I couldn’t think straight for a moment. He was asking if I had the means to charge it I think. Then I realised I had USB cable in my jacket and a 12v charger socket on the bike! “Yes I do!” I blurted out.
“Make sure you …. the device charged and …ctioning and you must be near a radio that’s turned on or … can’t reach you.”
I was confused. “Why a radio?” I asked.
The mysterious caller seemed to be explaining that my smartphone could pick up VHF frequencies if it was near enough to a functioning and turned on radio, though I couldn’t be sure. The interference was blocking out some of his words. How the hell that could work I had no idea but to be honest I didn’t care. Whoever was talking to me knew of my plight. Maybe they could help me get back to reality!
“Who are you,” I demanded to know.
“My name is ..obbs. You need to …et to the MoD station near ……………………….” Then the phone went dead.
No! No! No! I sat there staring at the dead phone, dumfounded at what had just occurred.
Just at that moment Tina entered the room carrying a plate of scrambled eggs on toast. She looked straight at the iPhone in my hand. “What is that thing?” she asked. “I saw you looking it in the Café last night.”
“I have to charge it,” I replied.
“Wot yer mean – charge it?” she asked.
I ignored her, got up off the sofa and brushed past her then made my way down the narrow hallway, into the rear dining room and out through the back door where the RE5 was parked up in the back garden. I fumbled around in my jeans pocket for the keys and charger cable. A few seconds later I had the phone connected to the charger.
Tina was standing at the back door, plate of toast and eggs in her hand watching me with a renewed sense of suspicion.
I turned around and gave her a weak grin. “That looks tasty,” I said.
“You aint gettin’ nuffink till you tell me what you’re playin’ at,” Tina warned, holding the plate away from me. “What is that thing?”
I shook my head and sighed. Whoever that was talking to me on the phone specifically forbade me from revealing who I was or why I was here. They didn’t say why but they were pretty darn adamant about it for some reason. What did he say his name was - …obbs? I didn’t catch all of it. I desperately wanted to tell someone about my predicament. Even if it made me sound like a nutter at least I’d be able to share my insanity with someone! He’d said something about getting to the MoD station just before the phone died. Did he mean the one near the A41? Did this all have something to do with those rumours of strange lights and people disappearing? My mind was working overtime. I knew had to give Tina some kind of explanation or she was going to lose the plot with me but I didn’t want to lie to her. I also didn’t want to overwhelm her with the truth either. I’d have to compromise. “Come inside and sit down. I need to tell you something,” I muttered.
“Look, I’ve come a long way Tina. That bike I’m riding bike is very futuristic. It’s a concept bike for the future. I got lost riding it to where I was going and I need to get back there or a lot of people are going to be worried. I’m late as it is. That’s all there is to it really.” I hadn’t lied; I’d just circumvented the truth a bit.
That seemed to placate her somewhat but she didn’t let up. “And that thing you’re ‘charging’ out there on your ‘futuristic Neverlands bike’ What’s all that about then?” she asked.
“I’m just topping up its battery,” I replied. “It’ll take about half an hour. I’ll show it to you then. And as for the bike being from the Netherlands, well, to be honest that was a little fib I told the cops to confuse them. It’s not from the Netherlands. It’s actually from Japan.”
Tina furrowed her eyebrows. “Japan? Wot you mean where all those little squint eyed people live?” she asked.
I nodded. “That’s right. They’re very advanced with engineering over there.”
“How come you got it then, this bike from Japan?” she asked.
“Well. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” I replied.
“And those maniacs in them cars last night. Who were they?” she asked.
I shrugged and spread the palms of my hands upwards. “I honestly don’t know Tina (and that was the truth) Then again, a unique machine like that can attract a lot of attention, both good and bad. Maybe they wanted to steal it. Anyway, they weren’t successful and here we are.”
So far I thought I’d done a pretty good job of explaining without outright lying, but I needed to divert her attention off this line of questioning. “Look that’s enough about me,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself. You’ve paid for my dinner, put me up for the night, made me breakfast, but I don’t really know anything about you.”
“There’s not much to know really, she began. “I live ere wiv me Mum. Me Dad died in the war and Mum brought me up. I have no brothers or sisters. I don’t even ‘ave a cat! Eddie’s alright but he’s a rocker – tough guy. You know the type. You’re not like ‘im. It’s alright I suppose. We get along.
We spent the next half hour just chatting, about all sorts of things really. I was careful to keep the subject matter all about her life and not mine though. Then the matter of my iPhone came up again. I wasn’t going to get away with avoiding this any longer. It’d be charged enough now so I went out back, unhooked it from the charger cable and brought it in to show her. “It’s a mini music box. Kind of like a miniature record player only without the records,” I explained (I wasn’t lying, at least that was partly what it did.)
“A what?” she asked, reaching towards it, again, seemingly mesmerised by the digital screen.
“Want to see how it works?” I said. I had hundreds of my favourite tunes saved on my phone. I opened the music app and scrolled down to Artists. I found a David Bowie song “Starman” and selected it. “Listen,” I said.
As the song played, Tina just sat there fascinated. “How does it work like that?” she asked.
“Want to hear some more?” I asked.
Tina nodded enthusiastically.
I selected “Your Song” by Elton John. When it was finished I stood up. I couldn’t hang about any longer. I had to find that guy I’d spoken to on the phone.
“Listen Teens (that was my new nickname for her), I have to get somewhere as quick as possible but I’ve got no petrol in my bike and no English money to pay for it with. Can you help me out again. I’ll pay you back,” I asked.
Tina nodded and reached in her pocket pulling out a one pound note.
Then, as she handed it to me she did something that took me completely by surprise. She leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. Now, it’d been a while since I’d kissed a teenage girl. About forty years or so by my reckoning and I have to admit she caught me off balance. It was a surreal moment, though with all the things that had occurred in the past twenty four hours this was about the most real thing that I’d experienced.
The fact that I was, well, once was, sixty two years old, married with kids and grandkids somehow got overlooked in the heat of the moment. Her lips were full and luscious. Her body was lean and supple and as I grasped her and drew her nearer I realised I hadn’t felt as horny as this since I could remember! Was this really happening? Her breathing became erratic as my hand reached under her shirt …….
Then the sound of a door slamming shut put paid to all that. Someone had come in through the front door!
Tina abruptly pulled away from me, short of breath and face flushed. “Mum’s back from work. She does nightshift at Apsley Mills. Whatever you do, don’t tell her you slept here last night,” she warned.
I’d completely forgotten all about the fact that anyone else might live here.
Tina rushed out into the hallway and I could hear her talking to someone. Then she entered the room again with an older woman in tow. The resemblance was obvious. “This is Tod, Mum. He’s a friend of mine I met at the Bee last night,” she explained, as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Nice to meet you Tod. You’re not from around here are you?” She questioned.
“Er, no. Not, not really,” I answered furtively.
The woman looked at me, then sideways at her rosy cheeked daughter who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with her
“Where’s your bike, Tina?” her Mum asked.
“Oh, it broke down last night. Tod’s going to take me back to the cafe to fix it. That’s why he’s here - to give me a lift,” Tina lied.
“Oh I see,” said her Mum sagely. “Eddie not about then?”
“Er, no. Ed’s working today Mum.”
Her Mum raised an eyebrow. “What, on a Saturday? That’s not like him!” she said, questioningly. This woman hadn’t just come down with the last rainfall. She knew what was going on and Tina knew she knew it too.
“Anyway, were off now. See you later,” Tina urged, looking nervously at me. “I’ll just go grab me helmet and jacket, Tod. Won’t be a mo.” And with that she disappeared upstairs, leaving me and her Mum alone for a few awkward moments
“What’s your story then Tod?” Tina’s Mum asked.
(Holy crap - my story - now that would be an icebreaker wouldn’t it!) However, I wasn’t about to get into that right now. As I was conjuring up yet another ‘plausible’ explanation Tina came bounding into the room all kitted up and holding my crash helmet in her hands. “See ya Mum,” she said again as she hurriedly ushered me out.
"You be careful and no speeding with her on the back Tod!" her Mum chided, watching wistfully as we pushed the RE5 through the back gate.
Out on the street I straddled the bike and flicked the ignition switch on. Tina jumped on the back. “Which way?” I asked.
“I’ll show you once we get going” she said. "Follow my directions."
I fired the RE5 up, clicked her into gear and we set off down the road.
Chapter 5:
After filling up with fuel at a petrol station a mile or so down the road, which only cost ten shillings (approx 50 pence in modern money) we set off towards the old MoD station near Hendon. I had no idea if this was the right place to go but I didn’t exactly have much else to go on and we weren’t anywhere near a switched on radio.
Ten minutes later we were outside the barbed wired gates of the place. There was one armed guard in a sentry box inside the gate who came out and confronted us.
I didn’t know what to say or do. What if this wasn’t the correct place?
The guard was eyeing up the RE5, obviously slightly confused.
“I’m here to see Mr Obbs’” I said.
The guard furrowed his eyebrows. He was obviously thinking about something. “You mean Major Hobbs?” he replied.
I nodded. Sounded close enough though I didn’t really know.
The guard went back to his hut and spoke on the phone.
It was a tense minute or so that we waited there, not knowing what was going to happen next, then in the distance I saw two vehicles heading our way at a fair lick. The lead vehicle, a Land Rover, skidded to a halt and a man in Officers army uniform and sporting a wide moustache jumped out, immediately followed by two armed squaddies. He motioned to the sentry who immediately saluted and opened the gates.
“Major Hobbs,” he announced, holding out his hand to me, which I shook. “And you must be the chap I was talking to earlier. Interesting machine you have there.” Then he spoke to Tina. “And you are, Miss?”
“Tina,” she replied.
The man looked pensively at Tina, then at me. “I wasn’t expecting two of you. Very well, would you follow me please,” he said. It wasn’t really a request. More a polite command. Then he jumped back into the Land Rover and we followed it along the driveway with the other vehicle immediately behind us. A strange convoy heading towards a mysterious building.
As we rode, Tina leaned forward and asked “Where we going Tod. Who are these people?”
All I could think of as a response was that they were the people I was supposed to meet.
I was directed to park the RE5 in a hangar which I did and the two of us were then ushered into Major Dobb’s office. Tina asked if she could use the bathroom and was escorted away by a female army officer.
Alone with Dobbs in his office he got right to the point. “Well young man, I expect you’re wondering what you’re doing here!” he said.
“It had crossed my mind, yes,” I replied.
“Alright. I’ll get right down to the point,” Dobbs began. “You have been an unwitting guinea pig in a time travel episode.”
It sounded completely bonkers but somehow it was a relief to hear someone actually say it. This definitely wasn’t a bad dream after all. It was the real deal.
“And before you ask,” he continued, “we’re going to attempt to send you back to where you came from.”
“Really - How?” I asked, now very animated.
“By replicating your exact movements just prior to you ending up here in 1954 and reverse engineering the experiment that made it occur,” he said.
“Time travel machine,” I answered blankly.
“Correct,” Dobbs said. “An honest to goodness time travel machine. Quite something, don’t you think? We’ve been experimenting with it for some time and now it appears it works, as evidenced by the fact that here you are!”
I was trying to figure out in my mind how this was all going to work but Dobbs pre-empted that.
“In case you wondered, we are in touch with our counterparts from the future. Fortunately this device is still a well kept secret in your time. We intend to keep it that way. Which brings me to the question of that young lady you brought here with you. Does she know anything about this?” he asked, his tone hardening as he spoke.
I explained how I’d met Tina and that she knew absolutely nothing about my real identity or where I’d really come from. Dobbs seemed to relax a little on hearing that.
“Very good. In that case, we’ll keep it that way, send her home and she will never be any the wiser. You on the other hand will be required to sign the official secrets act upon your return and never speak of this matter to anyone - ever. If you do, I’m afraid you’ll be in for some severe trouble. Is that quite clear?”
I nodded.
Dobbs then got up and motioned towards the door. “I’d like you to say goodbye to your young friend now. We need to get you back home too,” Dobbs said.
We found Tina in another room where she’d been kept occupied by the lady officer who’d shown her to the bathroom. They were both looking at some pictures in a book and smiling and laughing.
“Tod, look. They’ve got pictures of me Dad in here,” she announced excitedly. “Never seen em before.” She pointed out a few pictures of men standing in front of some desert tanks. “That’s ‘im there she said, pointing to one of the men. “I don’t have any pictures of him except an old grainy one of when he married Mum!” She was obviously really happy to see them.
Major Hobbs said she could have them which made her even happier. Dobbs then looked across at me and I knew it was time to say goodbye.
I took Tina outside. “I have to go now Tina,” I said. “Major Hobbs will have someone drive you home.”
“Where you going,” she asked. “Neverland?”
I had to stifle a laugh as she said that. “Yeah, time for me to go home too,” I replied.
Will I ever see you again?” she asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s a small world these days.” Then I gave her the key fob to my bike. It had a nice blue enamelled RE5 logo on it. We had one last hug then I waved goodbye as she was driven off by the woman officer in an army car.
I looked round to find Dobbs standing at my side. “Well, I suppose you want to see what all the fuss is about then,” he said, and directed me back into the building. We walked down some steps and into a large warehouse like area in the centre of which was a large machine that looked something like a cross between a tank and a spaceship.
“We’ve had a fair bit of argy-bargy with the Americans over this contraption,” he began. “They were none too happy that we managed to capture it from the Nazi’s and ship it back to Blighty before they got their hands on it. Once they did find out about it they began kicking up an almighty fuss with our Government and wanted unlimited access to the technology. So far they haven’t been successful. The truth is we were and still are indebted to them for their help during the war but they really were a greedy bunch of sods, whisking away the top Scientists and Nazi brains back to America with their ‘project paperclip.’ Many of those Scientists were War criminals and were never brought to justice for the atrocities they committed. We protested of course but you know how it is, the one with the biggest stick gets the lions share of the meal.”
I was fascinated. Not just by the fact that a time travel device existed, but from where it emanated. The Nazi’s came up with this? Then a thought crossed my mind.
“So, those characters who were after me in that American car; who were they exactly?” I asked. Based on what Dobbs had already told me I kind of had an idea now, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear.
“Nothing to do with us, old boy. We believe they were Nazi’s,” he replied.
The confused look on my face prompted him to explain further.
“Unfortunately, the Americans plan backfired on them somewhat. The Nazi scientists, doctors and biologists that were secretly filtered back to the USA under the guise of project paperclip weren’t just clever, they were also still extremely idealistic. The Yanks were so enamoured with the technical skills and knowledge of their guests that they forgot just how insane the Nazi doctrine was and how difficult it is to eradicate an idea that’s been indoctrinated into someone. It’s been almost a decade since then and they’ve become entrenched in American society, all the way up to some of the highest levels of their political hierarchy. Now we believe that they’re back at their old game again - world domination. The fourth Reich, old chap. Bloody ridiculous!”
“How is that possible?” I asked
Dobbs was a matter of fact character and appeared to be a very positive type of man but I could see in his eyes that the situation he was referring to was fast getting out of control. “We are obliged to accommodate the Americans I’m afraid. Since the war ended several US military bases have been established here in the United Kingdom. They have their own secret spy department which used to be called the OSS, now it’s known as the CIA. Unfortunately, it’s littered with Nazi’s. They operate on their own agenda and obviously were trying to capture you. Thankfully, they didn’t and you were instrumental in sending a few of them over that bridge. A couple less to have to keep tabs on I’m happy to say.”
I just shook my head in disbelief. Just about everything that had occurred to me in the past day or so was unbelievable and now this was the icing on the cake. What a story this would make, I thought. But it was a story I could never tell.
“So what now?” I asked.
“We send you back,” Dobbs replied. And with that he motivated the other men in the room into action. There was a flurry of activity as the machine began to make a strange noise, a kind of whirring, humming sound.
Dobbs escorted me back outside where two technicians in overalls were waiting with the RE5. My men tell me your machine is like nothing they’ve ever seen. Japanese apparently?”
“Yes, it’s even a bit unique in my time,” I replied.
“It’s a strange world we live in, and will live in by the looks of it,” Dobbs ruminated. “The Japs were bludgeoned into submission by the atomic bomb yet bounce back to produce exotica like this, while Nazi’s play hide and seek with us and are still causing trouble. Still, it appears that England is still a free country in 2020 so they didn’t succeed with their comeback plan, yet. Let’s hope that continues.”
Then he explained what was going to happen next.
“We’re going to duplicate the exact same frequency that transported you here, only in reverse. With any luck you’ll return to the exact time and place that you came from,” explained Dobbs.
“And if I’m not lucky?” I questioned with a slight lump in my throat.
Dobbs paused for a moment. Then he looked me dead in the eye and said “Let’s just be lucky, eh, old boy!”
I was then briefed on the procedure. I had to duplicate the exact moments prior to the point where I thought I’d been hit by lightning. That meant riding along the same stretch of road at approximately the same speed at a specific time. I chuckled to myself nervously. (I’d watched Back To The Future) I could do this.
I fired up the RE5 and shook Dobb’s hand. Then I followed one of the Land Rovers out through the gates. ‘Ground Zero’ was only a mile or so away. We reached the Elstree roundabout and the two men in the Land Rover pulled across the road to stop any potential traffic. There wasn’t actually any, it was just a precaution.
I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath and started off down the A41. As the speedo needle arched to the right I knew I was coming up to the place where I’d suddenly disappeared in 2020 and then reappeared here in 1954. I steeled myself for what was coming.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash ……….
Chapter 6:
A hard jolt, followed by what felt like an electric shock coursing through my body caused me to tense up. Everything went into slow motion. I couldn’t see anything. There was a lull then another hard jolt and all of a sudden there was the Beemer dead ahead of me. Up above storm clouds filled the skies. It was raining. There were dozens of vehicles on either side of the road.
I’d done it!
I suddenly felt heavier, older and slower but I was here, I was still alive, and the RE5 was still purring like a girl thingy cat. As I rode on I spied the Hilton Hotel to my right. No Busy Bee Cafe sign there anymore. As I passed it by I felt a bit sad, like I’d lost something and would never get it back.
It took me another ten minutes to get home by which time it was really starting to rain. I parked the RE5 up in the garage, discarded my wet jacket, kissed my wife and sat down to a steaming hot plate of Cottage pie and a cup of tea.
“Well, I’m back!” I announced.
My wife looked at me a bit funny and told me to put my plate in the sink when I’d finished.
It didn’t take long for my life to get back to normal. There were no physical side effects from the time travel experience. It was almost as if nothing had happened. I’d returned to exactly the same time as I’d gone. No one was any the wiser, except me of course. Major Hobbs would be long gone by now most likely, though I didn’t doubt for a moment that I was being monitored in some way or another. I’d been visited by two Government types the day after my return and had to sign the official secrets act. They’d waited till my wife had gone out before they knocked on the door so they had obviously been keeping close tabs on me. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
It didn’t take me long though to start wondering whatever happened to Tina. A quick peruse on Google soon filled me in on the details. Apparently, she still lived at the same address in Hunton Bridge where I’d slept on that old threadbare sofa back in the day. More importantly she was still alive and kicking, albeit she was now 84 years old. I pondered over it for several days. Should I, or shouldn’t I? Then I figured, what the hell!
Parking the RE5 up on the road outside I walked up the front pathway. I was sure I’d been followed by a nondescript black car but I couldn’t see anything now. The house didn’t look much different to be honest. The windows were now modern plastic framed double glazing and the front door was a different colour but other than that it looked pretty much as I remembered it. I paused for a moment before ringing the bell. What would I say to her? What would she look like now? I realised my hand was trembling a bit as I pushed on the doorbell.
An old lady answered the door. She had white hair and wrinkled skin but those dark green eyes were unmistakable. She looked at me puzzled, her eyes narrowed, then suddenly she put her hand to her mouth and let out a muted yelp. “Tod, is that you?” she squeaked.
“Sure is Teens,” I replied. “Any chance of a cuppa?”
We sat and talked for what seemed an age. She couldn’t quite understand how I looked so young. She was eighty four. I should, by rights, be a little older than that but she said I didn’t look much over fifty. How come? She had a point. I just fobbed it off saying I’d had a good life and married a good woman who fed me well. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either.
She told me that she’d broken up with her boyfriend Eddie not long after I went back home to ‘Neverland,’ and that she met and eventually married another chap who worked at the Vincent Motorbike factory in Stevenage. They’d met at the Busy bee Cafe. They had only one child, a son, who tragically was killed while serving in the Gulf War and her husband had died only a couple of years ago, leaving her a widow. She was on her own now with only memories to keep her company.
She told me to wait while she went upstairs to get something and returned with a small jewellery box. Inside was the RE5 key fob I’d given her. She’d kept it all this time!
I then took her outside and showed her the RE5. She just looked at it bemused. How could I possibly still have it? I told her I’d looked after it and that I’d never sell it. She just shook her head and said “You always were a funny one, Tod.”
I stayed in touch with Tina and visited her often. Unfortunately, she passed away a few months later. In her will she left a few things - for me! One of them was the RE5 key fob I’d given to her all that time ago, and there were a couple of other things too. The first was a 1955 Vincent Black Shadow that was in as-new condition with only four thousand miles on the odometer, and if that wasn’t enough, a Suzuki RX5. No, not an RE5, an RX5. One of only a handful of prototype bikes the factory ever made!
The solicitor informed me that the motorcycle had been a gift to Tina's husband from Mr Vincent himself for all his many years of loyal service. The RX5 was literally brand spanking new with only 1 mile on the clock and had never been run. He handed me the documents for both machines along with an unopened letter addressed to me. Inside was a note in Tina’s handwriting.
Dear Toddyboy,
I know you haven’t told me the whole truth about yourself. I suppose we all have our secrets and some things are probably best left unsaid. You know, I used to think about you a lot after you left. I only knew you for a short time but you certainly gave me a lot to think about and I loved your funny stories, especially that one about being from the future. It always made me chuckle when I thought about the day you told me that.
When I saw the unveiling of the Suzuki Rotary in 1975 I recognised it immediately as the same bike you were riding when I first met you at the Busy Bee and I simply had to have one. Joe, my husband, already had the Vincent which was his pride and joy and he didn’t want another bike but I literally begged him to buy one of these new Suzuki bikes for me. Fortunately, he knew the owner of the UK’s main distributor and somehow managed to get this bike off him. Apparently it was a special prototype one. I hope that’s okay. Anyway, I hope you like them. Ride safe.
It was lovely knowing you.
Love, Teens.’
I nearly cried.
A strange thing happened on my first test ride.
Chapter 1.
I was speeding home along the A41 after a cracking day at the Ace Café Classic Japanese Bike day. I loved the atmosphere of that place and some of those old bikes were just awesome. Of course, my Suzuki RE5M had been the star of the show. Rarer than rocking horse nuts and quirkier than Billy Eilish’s hair it was one of only a handful in the UK and fully restored it looked the bollocks.
It may be 45 years old but it only has 10,000 miles on it; barely run in really. Me, I'm into my 62nd year but as I thundered along on this ol’ bike I felt like a teenager again. Flicking it round the roundabouts and blasting off down the straits I had a grin so wide you could have slipped a double decker bus through it.
The weather had been bright and sunny all day but unfortunately as is often the case in the UK, dark clouds, which only a few minutes earlier looked like they were only skimming the horizon now seemed to be heading my way at an alarming rate. Then again, I only had another ten miles to go so I wasn’t overly worried.
As expected, there was a fair bit of traffic to contend with but the conditions were perfect for a jaunt on this ever obliging rotary – at least they were at the moment. I figured that if I gave it some welly I could probably make it back home before I got a proper soaking.
Before I’d set off from the Ace I’d phoned my missus who’d said there’d be a hot dish of her famous cottage pie waiting for me in the oven when I got back. I was getting peckish having not eaten anything since midday so I dropped down into fourth gear and opened her up. This old bike wasn’t the fastest kid on the block but there was plenty of torque on hand, it handled well with the new set of Pirelli Angels I’d had fitted and with that dramatic roar from the twin dual skinned and front vented exhausts I had to admit this really was a lotta bike for the money.
I passed the old MoD station which back in the day had a been key to the war effort. It had been closed down for some years but word on the street was that the Government were using the premises again though no one seemed to know why. It was all hush, hush apparently. There was a bit of controversy about the goings on there however. Locals had been complaining that strange lights and sounds could be heard coming from there on occasion and there had been several electrical power cuts in the areas surrounding it. There were also rumours of local people and even vehicles disappearing and never being seen again. ‘London’s very own Bermuda Triangle’ the local paper had touted, before it suddenly went out of circulation. I never took much notice of all that to be honest. North London could be a dodgy place at the best of times. I had better things to think about and right now I was caught up in the euphoria of riding a rare and fast classic bike and loving every minute of it.
Up ahead in the distance more flashes of lightning followed by even louder claps of thunder in an ever darkening sky forewarned me that if I got caught out in this I’d be in real trouble and it was just my luck that I was heading straight for it flat out. It was fast becoming a game of chicken now - me against Thor’s Hammer and I had no intention of being the nail. Clicking up into 5th and with a sense of renewed urgency I snapped the RE5’s throttle back and gave it some beans. The bike shimmied a bit, the tacho needle yawed to the right and as the speedo hovered just over 100mph the road ahead began to blur as spatters of rain began appearing on my visor, not enough to have to wipe away but still an omen of the impending deluge to come.
There was a car up ahead, a Beemer by the looks of it and as I prepared to overtake it another flash of lightning, this time a lot closer and much more intense erupted from the sky. It was so intense it blinded me momentarily. At that very same moment I felt a cold shiver surged through my body. Unable to see properly and shocked by the sudden temperature shift I instinctively shut off the throttle.
As my eyes began to focus again I looked down at the speedo which was now dipping just below sixty. That Beemer which had been no more than 30 metres ahead of me had disappeared, but where? The driver couldn’t have accelerated off that fast could he? I checked my mirrors then looked behind to see if I’d passed it but it was nowhere to be seen. It was as if it’d vanished into thin air. Not only that, there were no other vehicles on the road either. None! Seconds earlier I’d counted at least 5 cars and a truck up ahead of me and several more on the other side of the road. Where the hell did they go?
I was really shivering now. My first thought was I’d been hit by the lightning and somehow survived! The bike was still running fine though and I was definitely not singed or hurt in any way but the road looked different, and unless I was dreaming it appeared to be much narrower. I slowed down to 30mph in an attempt to gather my senses. Something very odd was going on here. Not only did the road appear to have altered and the traffic vanished but the storm had gone too. The rain had completely stopped and there were no clouds in the sky at all.
With nowhere safe to pull over and stop I carried on at a steady 50 or so taking note that the road was still completely devoid of traffic. Not a single vehicle anywhere in sight. That was a first, I thought. The A41 was never this clear. But to be honest this didn’t even look like the A41 anymore. Had I taken a wrong turn somewhere without realising it? I just couldn’t figure it out. Also, I felt physically different, lighter somehow and more alert than I’d felt in a long time. Wow! This was nuts. It was as if I’d just skipped the light fandango.
The Elstree roundabout was coming up ahead. I changed down a couple of gears, flicked the bike round it and carried on. Then I had a thought. Where actually was the M1 Motorway? Before you got to this roundabout you went over it but I swear I never went over any bridge. I was about to pull over and check the sat-nav on my phone when I spied headlights in my wing mirror. A couple of bikes were coming up behind me. Jeez, at last – something normal! Moments later they’d caught up and were now cruising alongside me, one behind the other. The lead bike was a classic Triumph 5TA in pristine condition. The other was a Matchless. Probably on their way back from the Ace café I guessed. I waved to them but the riders didn’t return the gesture, they just maintained their speed and kept staring at my bike through their goggles, pointing at it and shouting something unintelligible to each other. Then they accelerated off and for me, that was it - I dropped a gear and headed after them in hot pursuit. Always up for a bit of a race, me. The next section of road was a long straight and I passed them doing ninety, changing up to sixth as I did so and leaving them in the dust.
Satisfied with my ton up prowess I eased off on the throttle and checked my mirrors, noticing that the two Brit bike riders were way back in the distance. Then something really weird caught my eye. The Hilton Hotel that had been there since before I could remember simply wasn’t there anymore. Instead, there was what looked like a transport café with a lot of bikes outside and people milling around them. I checked the mirrors, grabbed a handful of brake and slowed the bike down to get a better look. Something definitely wasn’t right here. The sign outside the café said BUSY BEE CAFE, but that didn’t make any sense. That place had shut down years ago and a hotel had gone up on the site, yet if my eyes weren’t deceiving me there it was as plain as day.
I had to check this out, so I indicated right and zipped across the road. The two classic British bikes I’d passed had caught up with me now and followed me in. I could now see there were dozens of old bikes parked up outside the front of the café and as I pulled up on the RE5 the gaggle of bikers hanging around all turned to stare at me. They weren’t exactly friendly stares either. I felt like I’d entered a forbidden zone or something. No sooner had I stopped and turned off the ignition I was encircled by them. The majority of them were all dressed in black leather jackets, rocker style. For a moment I thought I was in serious trouble. These guys looked spooked and all eyes were on me.
The bikes I’d just left for dead up the road pulled up either side of me. Both of the riders also appeared more than a bit agitated. “What the hell is that?” the bloke on the 5TA barked as he removed his helmet and goggles. He was tall, gangly and unkempt with an Elvis style quiff dangling across his forehead.
I looked at him askance and shrugged. “It’s an RE5,” I replied.
“An R-E what?” he queried, and started inspecting my bike in an ultra inquisitive manner.
Now of course, as far as I was concerned my old RE5 was lovely looking bike and always attracted interest wherever I went with it. But this character and his posse were more than just interested. They appeared to be genuinely taken aback by it and more than a little confused. I overheard the guy on the Matchless excitedly relaying to one of the bystanders what had just happened earlier. “Came past us like a rocket it did,” he was effusing.
“Wot’s a Suzz-ooki when it’s at ‘ome?” he asked, peering inquisitively at the letters on the side of the fuel tank.
“Yeah, an’ look at that weird thing on the ‘andlebars,” said another, pointing at the instrument box.
Something definitely wasn’t right here and I could feel a lump forming in the pit of my stomach. Anyone who rode a bike had most likely heard about the Suzuki RE5 even if they hadn’t actually seen one. Yeah ok, it was a very rare bike to see out on the roads these days but none of these characters seemed to have a clue about it. Who were these idiots I thought. But there was more to this than met the eye. All these young guys looked like they’d just come off the set of a James Dean movie. Then there was this café, the Busy Bee, it shouldn’t be here! None of it made any sense.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“The Busy Bee o’ course, and you’re a long way from ‘ome by the sounds of it, mate” said Mr pseudo Elvis. “Where ya from?” he asked.
“Watford, I live in Garston, Watford,” I replied.
“That’s five miles down the road from ‘ere mate. You sure you ain’t been drinkin’?” said another short stubby guy with a baby face.
The rest of the gang all laughed which made me even more uneasy.
“Never seen him ‘ere before. Never seen nuffink like that bike either,” said a teenage girl, the only female among them. “Woss your name?” she asked.
“Tod,” I replied.
By now the whole café had emptied out and I found myself surrounded by at least thirty leather clad teenagers all wanting to know what all the commotion was about and all vying for a glimpse of my bike.
“Bloody weird helmet you got there mate,” said another young guy, peering inquisitively at my full face flip up HJC helmet.
“How fast’s it go then?” the tall gangly guy asked, leaning over to look at the speedo.
“Tops out at about a hundred and twenty,” I replied.
As if on cue the entire entourage burst out into uncontrollable laughter. I don’t know why but I started to feel a bit queasy. I had the beginnings of a headache and I needed a drink, or something. Jumping off the bike, I made my way through the gawping bunch of Marlon Brando wannabe’s and into the café. A few of them cautiously followed me in but the majority stayed glued to the RE5, talking excitedly amongst themselves. As I stepped inside a jukebox was playing an old classic song ‘Cross over the Bridge’ by Patti Page. The chorus lyrics ‘cross over the bridge, oh brother cross over the bridge’ seemed to resonate in my psyche for some reason.
I looked around me and noticed a Telegraph newspaper on one of the tables. Something about it made me stop and pick it up. It felt crisp and new but it was the content that caught my attention. The headlines read “Bannister breaks four-minute mile. Roger Bannister, a 25-year-old British medical student, has become the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes. His time was 3mins 59.4 seconds, achieved at the Iffley Road track in Oxford and watched by about 3,000 spectators” I looked at the top of the page. The date on it was May 7th 1954!
I put the paper back down on the table and noticed my hands were shaking. I looked around me again, hoping to see something that might be familiar. The walls were clad with green and cream tiles and there was a mosaic of a bee on one of them. The place was virtually empty. Everyone was outside save an old boy washing some cups behind the counter. What was it that was missing in this picture? Then I realised. It was the lack of digital technology. No TV, no mobile phones or laptops. Nothing. Reactively, I reached inside my jacket and pulled out my iPhone. No signal, not even a server. For some reason I started to feel a bit frightened and alone.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped. The young girl who’d asked me my name had followed me in and was peering inquisitively at my iPhone. “Wossat then Toddy boy?” she asked, seemingly mesmerised by the screensaver.
I ignored her question and quickly pocketed the phone. I was now starting to feel quite sick. “Where’s your toilet mate?” I asked the old boy behind the counter.
“It’s outside in the yard young fella,” he said, pointing to the back door.
‘Young fella,’ ha – I wish. Stumbling out to the toilet, I went to the washbasin, looked in the cracked mirror and immediately turned to look behind me. Nothing! I looked back at the mirror. Staring back at me was a young guy with a full set of hair and no beard. It was me, but it wasn’t me. I looked no more than about eighteen years old. I patted my face as did the apparition in the mirror. My knees began to buckle under me. I had to grab onto the washbasin to steady myself. What the hell was happening here? I reached into my pocket checked my phone again – nothing! Then I puked up. When I finally stumbled outside again that girl was waiting there for me.
“You alright Toddy boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.
I just stood there looking at her. It took me a few moments to recover my senses then I realised what she was saying. A ghost – yes, I had seen one. It was me. I was dead. I was sure of it. I’d been hit by lightning during that storm and died on the spot. There was no other explanation for it. The thing was though, I could feel, smell and see everything around me. I pinched my arm hard. It hurt just like it should. Then cautiously, I reached out and touched the young girl’s face. It was soft and smooth and warm – and very real. She gave me a coy smile and giggled.
“What’s your name? I asked.
“Ooh cheeky!” she replied with a churlish grin. “I’m Tina. Better be careful though, my boyfriend’s that tall fella you were talking to out front and he gets real jealous if uvver blokes get fresh wiv me,” she warned.
“What year is it?” I asked.
“What yer talkin’ about?” she replied.
“Just tell me what year it is?” I repeated. The urgency in my voice made her wince a bit.
“Well, it’s 1954 o-course. Woss the matter wiv ya. Lost yer marbles or something?” she scoffed.
But I wasn’t in a fit state to banter. Whatever had happened up the road back there was no small thing. If this was the real deal and I wasn’t dead then I’d just been transported back to a time four years before I was even born!
Chapter 2.
I was still dazed and confused as I walked back into the Café with the girl in tow. The place was empty save that old boy still washing glasses behind the counter. “They’re all outside gawking at that machine o’ yours,” he said.
And so they were. By now there were at least forty people surrounding the RE5. I took a few deep breaths and went to walk outside but before I reached the door the girl grabbed me by the arm and stopped me. “I’m Tina by the way, Tina Teaser,” she said, giving me that coy flirtatious look again. “Wossup? I can tell you’re sad about something.”
Sad! So many things were whirling through my head it felt more like I was mad, not sad. The only connection with this pseudo reality I found myself encapsulated in was this petulant little bird standing next to me. I reached out and touched her face again and she smiled. She seemed to enjoy the attention.
“See! There you go. Life’s not so bad is it,” she said swiping my jacket gently with her hand.
She had dark green eyes, pert lips, and under that leather jacket she had other pert other things as well, a real looker. Then it began to dawn on me that somehow, someway, based on the reflection that I’d seen in that broken mirror in the bathroom that I must be about the same age as her. I’d need to watch myself here, I mused. Anyway, better not dwell on that I thought or I’d be for it if my missus found out I was flirting with a teenage biker babe at the Busy Bee Cafe. Then another thought crossed my mind; if this really was 1954 my missus didn’t even exist yet. She wouldn’t even be born for another fifteen years! It was too much to take in. I felt lightheaded and stumbled. Luckily I grabbed hold of the back of a chair to stop me from falling.
Sitting down for a moment I reflected on the events of the last hour. Somehow, someway, me and my trusty steed had been catapulted back into the mid-fifties and not only that, forty years or so had been shaved off my age in the bargain. How could that be possible? Well, it couldn’t. It was impossible. I started to wonder if someone had spiked my coke with LSD at the Ace Café earlier in the day. I thought about it again. No, they wouldn’t do that.
There was a part of me, the bonkers part that is, that got a bit of a kick out of this nutty scenario. The other part, the sensible side of me, was wondering if I’d ever get back to my own time and if I’d ever see my wife, kids and grandchildren again. So, with that conundrum sloshing about in my head I steeled myself and walked outside.
There was an excited buzz in the air. The RE5 was the reason for it of course. Not surprising really. Japanese bikes were unheard of in England in 1954, let alone something as technically advanced and unusual as this. It would probably be another decade or so before it was even a twinkle in its designer’s inscrutable eye. As I approached the motley crew of bikers surrounding it an uneasy silence descended as they parted to let me through. I figured to myself that there was no way this was real, that this must be a dream and that I’d wake up soon enough, so while I was in it I might as well have some fun. Retrieving the keys out of my pocket I straddled the RE5. “Who’s up for a race then?” I asked.
With no further encouragement needed a dozen or so wannabe racers made for their bikes and moments later the air was filled with the roar of British twins and singles thumping into life. I donned my helmet, flicked the ignition key on and pressed the starter button. That in itself caused a sensation amongst those watching. Electric start on a motorbike! Holy smoke! The big Rotary fired up. Clicking it into gear I spun the bike round and faced the entrance to the road. A little guy raced up to the front of the entourage and shouted “Records started!” and then darted out of the way.
Mr Elvis pulled up alongside me on his Triumph and pointed up the road. “Up to the Elstree roundabout and back again,” he yelled over the noise of his revving vertical twin, and with that he was off! Several others followed hot on his heels. I waited a few seconds then tore off after them. Clicking up into 2nd gear I let her rip and within a few seconds I was tearing past the pack one by one. By the time I’d reached the roundabout they were several seconds behind me. Leaning the RE5 over as far as I dared I managed to get safely round it (Those Pirelli Demons I’d fitted were a good call) and I was heading back towards the Busy Bee before any of them had even reached the roundabout. I waved at them as I roared past them going in the opposite direction. I had to admit, dream or no dream this was fun! With adrenaline rushing through my veins I hammered the RE5 down the road hitting 110mph on the main straight. By the time they’d all arrived back I was standing by my bike, helmet off and tapping my toes.
Mr Quiff got off his bike and sauntered over to me. As he did so that girl Tina appeared and hooked her arm around his. She was obviously his girlfriend but I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she had other ideas.
“Eddie’s the name,” he said, holding out his hand. “Eddie Cochran.”
I just stood there dumfounded. Eddie Cochran. My God, you couldn’t make it up. In fact you couldn’t make any of this up! That’s why I knew it was just a dream. “I’m Tod. Nice to meet you Eddie,” I replied, and shook his hand.
Apparently, I’d set the fastest time on record for what they called “looping the loop” i.e. making it to the Elstree roundabout and back before the Bill Hayley song ‘Rock around the clock’ finished. After that I was considered one of the boys and I spent the next half hour or so fending off questions about the RE5 such as “what c.c. is it? – how come it’s so quick? - what’s that weird flip up cylinder thingy on the handlebars? – how come it’s got no kickstart lever? – who makes Soo-Zukki’s? etc. etc. They wanted to know all about me and what I was wearing too, where I got my weird looking helmet and how they could get one? Where I lived? all that kind of stuff but as you can imagine I was a bit stumped there. What was I going to say? ‘Oh, I was hit by a bolt of lightning and was transported here from the future and oh by the way, I’m not actually even born yet.’ That’d go down well wouldn’t it! So I lied. I told them I was a road tester for a new foreign motorbike company. I didn’t let on that the RE5 was Japanese. I figured that might not be too well received seeing as the Second World War had only ended a few years back. It wasn’t exactly a very watertight story but it was all I could think of at the time and they seemed to accept it. They weren’t exactly the brightest bunch after all.
By now my stomach was rumbling. I’d puked up everything I had in my stomach earlier and this time warp nuts was energy sapping. I felt dead beat. I needed some grub and some rest, in that order so I ordered a pie and chips, in fact that’s all there was on offer but when I pulled out a tenner and gave it to the old boy behind the counter he just looked at it and scowled, muttering something about Monopoly money. Then I realised that of course my money was no good here. It was way ahead of its time. I quickly snatched the note back before he got a good look at it and was trying to figure out what to do next when that girl Tina came to my rescue. She offered to pay for the food. It cost sixpence! She said I could pay her back later. When I sat down to eat she sat opposite me and as I scoffed down the food she just sat there staring at me.
“Where you really from, Tod?” she said.
I paused eating and just gawped at her. She knew I wasn’t telling the whole truth. This girl was obviously fascinated by me, by my bike and the fact that it was quicker and more exotic than anything anyone had ever seen before but she was also a woman, and women know when a bloke’s telling porky pies. “You really want to know?” I replied hesitantly.
“Yeah, I really do,” she said.
“Let me eat this first,” I said, tucking in to what was actually a delicious steak and kidney pie and chips.
It was getting late and the Café was emptying out. Bikes were firing up and heading off into the night. The motley crew (that was my nickname for the gaggle of bikers) were a friendly bunch and they all, to a man, said their goodbyes to me as they left, many of them asking if I’d be here tomorrow, but I didn’t really know what to say to that. I was in a quandary. I shouldn’t even be here at all and not only that, this girl Tina had rumbled me. She knew there was something odd going on, which of course there was and it was then I had another daunting concept to ponder. I had no money, well no money that would be accepted here and my credit and debit cards hadn’t even been invented yet. I also had no home to go to either. If my memory served me right my house had been built in the mid sixties. I was a lost soul in a strange world that once was.
Tina jolted out of my reverie. “So you gonna tell me then, or what?” she asked.
I looked up and for a moment and was captivated by those inquisitive sparkling green eyes staring back at me. How the hell was I going to explain to her that I’d come back from the future and that I was really 62 years old with a wife, four kids and two grandchildren?
“Well?” she urged.
Just as I was about to open my mouth there was a commotion at the entrance door and Eddie rushed in with a worried look on his face. “Oi Tod, there’s a couple of Rozzers outside eyeing up your bike,” he warned.
Cops! That’s all I needed. I immediately jumped up off my chair and hotfooted it outside. There were two of them. A black Humber patrol car with a big blue light on the top was parked next to my bike and one of the cops was shining a torch on the back of it. The other one, a big burly guy with a beard was scrutinising the engine. Then I realised what they were interested in – the bloody number plate! It was of course yellow with black lettering. All the plates on the other bikes had black backgrounds with white or silver numerals. Obviously the one on my bike wouldn’t make sense to them. The copper with the torch shone it in my face as I approached him. “Evening officers. Can I help you?” I asked holding my hand up in front of my face to shield my eyes from the glare.
“This your bike son?” the bigger one asked.
“It is yeah. Is there a problem?” I replied.
“Strange registration plate,” he said.
I was stumped. I had to think quick. “Oh, er, it’s a prototype plate,” I lied.” My heart was pumping fast now. I knew that cops of this era didn’t have the technical backup from my day. No DVLA computers, mobile phones or anything like that and it was the only thing I could think of.
The big bearded cop looked over at his partner who raised his eyebrows and shrugged as if to say ‘aint got a clue.’ “Prototype eh! What’s the “N” prefix stand for then?"
(It was a 1975 bike on an N plate, as it should be. Only, 1975 was 21 years in the future!)
Er, it’s er ……. a Dutch bike bike. N stands for Netherlands!” I blurted out. I couldn’t think of anything else at that particular moment.
“Netherlands! Long way from Holland aren’t you sonny?” he probed. “You don’t sound very Dutch to me.” He was one of those seasoned cops, with a perpetual air of suspicion. “Odd looking bike too. Never seen one of these before have you Pete”? he asked his partner.
Policeman Pete just shook his head obliquely. He obviously had no clue of what a Netherlands number plate looked like and also didn’t appear too interested in bikes at all. I was hoping Officer big beard was going to be of the same inclination but unfortunately he wasn’t. “Got any documentation on you son?” he asked.
Oh nuts, now I was for it.
At that very moment the radio in the police car crackled. I caught some of it - something about a multi vehicle RTA in Hendon. Pete took the call and beckoned to my interrogator. Apparently they were being ordered to attend the accident. Big beard’s inquisitive demeanour changed immediately and to my utter relief he dropped his line of questioning. “Ok, ride safe son, and keep your speed down on that thing” he warned as he shuffled off. Then the two cops jumped into their Humber and sped off.
As I watched the Humber disappear into the night I breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been a lot more complicated.
“So you’re from Nevelands eh?” said Tina, hands on hips. “You’re fulla surprises you are Toddyboy.”
I didn’t confirm it but I didn’t deny it either.
Eddie had also been listening in on my banter with the cops. “Where’s Neverlands then?” he asked. He wasn’t the brightest kid in the class this guy.
“Holland. On the other side of the English Channel,” I replied.
A faint smirk of disbelief crossed his lips but it was tinged with a look of respect. “Bloody ‘ell. You come all that way on that bike?” he exclaimed.
“I’ve come a very long way, mate,” I replied.
“Hats off to you mate. Well, I’m off,” said Eddie looking at Tina as if to say are you coming too.
Tina declined, telling him she had to go home so he took her aside, gave her a snog then roared off into the night on his 5TA with a couple of his mates following in his wake.
“You really from Neverlands?” Tina asked.
The way she said that made me chuckle inside. I didn’t want to lie but the concept of telling her the truth just didn’t seem logical right then and there. I decided to sidetrack the conversation. “Actually, I’m knackered. I need to get some sleep. It’s been a really long day,” I said. That wasn’t a lie.
“Where are you going to stay then?” she asked.
Jesus! Did this bird ever stop asking awkward questions! But she’d hit a nerve. Where was I going to stay? I had no home to go to. Not anymore.
Again, Tina had me on the hop, but again she came to my rescue. “If you like you can stay at my place. It’s just me and me Mum live there. My dad died years ago. You can sleep on the sofa.
I had to think about it for a moment. My house, my wife, my family didn’t even exist yet. I was stranded in a time before I was even born yet the environment around me was vaguely familiar. How was I going to get back to reality? What would I do if I couldn’t? It was all too much to contemplate right now. I needed time to figure it all out and more than anything I needed sleep. I was bushed and this girl was the only person who was willing to help me. I had no choice but to follow her lead and take things as they came.
“I can’t ride this bike with this number plate on it though,” I said, gesturing towards the fluorescent yellow plate on the back of the RE5.
Tina smiled, zipped open her leather jacket, and pulled out a screwdriver from the inside breast pocket. “We can change it for my one then,” she replied. Her bike was an AJS 250. Within a few minutes she’d removed the rear number plate and replaced mine with it. “I’ll leave my bike here for tonight. Old Joe will look after it for me,” she said. (Joe was the proprietor of the place apparently.) “I’ll ride pillion with you!”
There wasn’t much else I could do or say about that, so without further ado Tina donned her helmet and jumped on the back. “I live near Hunton Bridge in Abbotts Langley,” she said, pointing West.
I knew where Hunton Bridge was. I’d messed around there when I was a kid so I headed off that way wondering to myself where all this was going to end.
Chapter 3:
Back out on the road, I started to calm down a bit. The only thing that had any semblance of reality for me at the moment was riding the RE5. Everything else since that lightning bolt hit me was a blur of bonkers bullnuts. The bike was running sweet. The little idiosyncrasies of the engine as the primary and secondary port valves overlapped when the revs reached 4,000rpm, the unique sound coming from those quirky exhaust pipes and the familiar view of the cylindrical instrument canister in front of me were comforting. I felt at home on this machine. Tina seemed to be enjoying herself on the back. She kept saying how smooth the bike was, and how fast!
Then I caught a glimpse in my wing mirror of a car coming up behind me. At first I didn’t pay it too much attention and simply sped up a little, but the car did the same. It wasn’t trying to overtake; it just kept pace with me even though I’d accelerated up to over 75mph now. Then, as we hit a straight section of road it did attempt to overtake but instead of going past it came up alongside us. There appeared to be two people in it and the person in the passenger side was motioning with his hand for me to pull over.
Who the hell were these guys? Cops again maybe? though this car didn’t look like a Police patrol car. Then I realised it was an American car and the guy in the passenger seat was actually driving it because it was LHD. Whoever they were they were intent on me pulling over. I didn’t want to put Tina at risk by trying to outrun them so I slowed the bike down and stopped. I hit the kill switch but remained seated on the bike. I felt Tina tense as she prepared to get off the back but I told her to stay where she was.
The car pulled up about ten metres ahead of us and two men got out and began walking towards us. At that same moment I became aware of another vehicle, a dark coloured van pulling up and stopping behind us. I heard the sound of a sliding door being pulled open and then I saw a heavy set guy in blue overalls got out and start walking purposefully our way. Something didn’t feel right. There was some sort of collusion between these three as if they knew each other. The driver of the car seemed to sense my concern and I noticed his eyes dart furtively to the man walking up behind us.
Something was about to happen here and by the looks of it, nothing good. In a split second decision I flicked the kill switch to on, stabbed the starter button and the engine roared into life. I grabbed the clutch lever, clicked into first gear and gave it a fistful of throttle. The RE5 surged forward.
The two men up ahead jumped sideways as I gunned the bike straight at them but the bigger one tried to grab hold of me as I shot passed him. I managed to parry his lunge but he got a grab-hold of my jacket. I pulled away but with him still hanging onto me and trying to pull me off. Tina lashed out with her right boot and landed one right in his midriff causing him to lose his grip. He lost his balance, toppled sideways and fell.
I blasted off down the road with my jacket arm half torn off and with Tina hanging on for dear life. I had no time to think straight. We’d gotten away but what the hell was that all about and who the hell were those guys?
I’d just changed up into fourth gear and was really moving it when the engine spluttered, backfired and then stopped altogether. The big heavy bike slowed down to a halt soon after. Oh no! Please No! I stabbed the starter button but it wouldn’t fire. Jesus! I glanced in the rear view mirror to see that Yank car now in hot pursuit. We weren’t far ahead of them. They’d be on us in moments. Then I realised what was wrong. The bike had run out of petrol! Hold on, no it hadn’t – it had a manual reserve. I reached down and fiddled around to find the petrol stopcock. I twisted it forward and thumbed the starter again. The engine cranked over, then it coughed, caught once and then, thank God it roared into life.
I looked behind again. The car was gaining speed. Slamming the bike into first I tore off down the road again with Tina clinging on the back. The twin exhausts barked and the rev counter topped out as we surged into the night. When I looked back the car was still not far behind us but was losing ground. Whatever I did, I had to get these guys off our tail so I dropped down a gear and gunned it. Hedgerows whooshed past either side like storm-clouds as I flicked the bike through the bends. Once again I thanked my lucky stars I’d fitted those Pirelli Angels.
Reaching the crest of a steep hill on full chat, the front wheel came off the ground and it was all I could do to keep the bike in a straight line as it wheelied down the other side. Tina was hanging on for dear life. Ahead of me was a long straight that went on for about half a mile. Twisting the throttle to the stop I blasted down it. After a minute or so I looked back. The car was receding in the distance. Thank f**k for that. Then up ahead, I saw more lights. It was another car coming towards us. Then to my utter horror it veered across the road and headed straight for us, flashing its headlights at me!
I slammed on the brakes. The forks nosedived and the violent inertia threw both of us forward. I managed to hold onto the bars with Tina scrambling on my back but then the back wheel started to lose traction. I could hardly hold it. We were going to hit the car head on! Tina screamed, pulling on my arm as she started to slide sideways.
Everything seemed to slow down at that moment. We were still travelling at well over seventy miles per hour with the bike starting to slew sideways but for some reason it felt a lot slower than that. My mind must have been working so fast that time slowed down around me. Luckily, the front wheel was still facing forwards.
Up ahead, the car was on a collision course with us. The RE5’s back tyre was still spinning like mad as it attempted to gain some grip on the road surface. In a split second I realised we had one chance, and one chance only to avoid a fatal impact. With only thirty metres or so between me and the bonnet of the car ahead, I slammed the throttle shut and jabbed my heel down on the back brake lever. The rear tyre squealed and bit into the tarmac. At that exact moment I dropped a gear and yanked back on the throttle. The bike surged forward, but this time sliding the other way and at such an angle that the right foot-peg was spewing out sparks. The RE5 blasted across the road onto the other side of the central white lines like it’d been sling–shotted from a catapult.
The car up ahead had almost pulled up to a stop now but we were still going it, and some! We shot past its left side with me still wrestling with the bike’s shuddering handlebars as they tried to wrench themselves from my grip, I managed to keep it in a straight line till I finally brought it to a stop about fifty metres further on down the road. Tina was barely on the bike. She was half hanging off the right side but she was ok. Then I looked behind me.
The two guys who’d been chasing us in the Yank-mobile also had to make an emergency manoeuvre to avoid the other oncoming car. They’d narrowly escaped a head on collision but in doing so had ended up careering off the road and ploughing the front of their vehicle into a hedgerow. It was still running and they were trying to reverse out of the hedge but the rear wheels were spinning in the mud. The driver was leaning out the window shouting something in a language that was foreign to me to a man who’d jumped out of the other car that we’d nearly hit and who was running over to help him.
I decided not to hang about. These guys were obviously in cahoots and this was our best chance to get the hell away from them, whoever they were. I clicked the RE5 into gear and with Tina now securely planted on the pillion seat with her arms wrapped securely round my waist I roared off in the opposite direction from our pursuers at full pelt. I felt like we were out of danger now but to my utter dismay, as I accelerated down a long straight road heading to f**k knows where I looked back only to see headlights following us again. Holy crap! What was I going to have to do to get rid of these guys?
The solution to that problem presented itself rather rapidly though. Just around the next bend was a hump back bridge that took the road over a river. It wasn’t visible till you’d rounded the corner and I’d already got to that point. I slammed the bike down through the gears and braked as hard as I could. The tyres protested, skidding and squealing under the strain of a 500lb bike two up trying to shred them to bits but they held, just, and as the hump back bridge reared up in my forward vision I managed to pull the RE5 into an upright position. Up and over we went with both wheels in the air, then down hard onto the tarmac on the other side with a resounding crunch as the suspension bottomed out. By some miracle I managed to keep the blue behemoth upright and as soon as I’d regained control I slammed on the brakes again, locking the rear wheel with the back tyre screaming as it cut a swathe of black rubber into the tarmac.
I immediately looked back, wondering where our pursuers had gotten to. The sound of a high powered motor at full revs then screeching tyres answered that question as the big Yank car came hurtling round the corner and slammed on its brakes in a dramatic attempt to stop before it too hit the hump in the road. But it couldn’t slow down in time. Going over that bridge at say forty miles per hour would have been difficult, but with his wheels locked solid and at the speed he was going he didn’t stand a chance. The front bumper disintegrated as it slammed into the raised section of tarmac, upending the heavy car’s back wheels. Now hopelessly out of control it smashed into the brick wall that lined the side of the bridge and crashed straight through it sending bricks, mortar and smashed glass beads from the car’s windscreen cascading into the air. For a moment it just hung there, teetering halfway on and halfway off the bridge. Then came a grinding, graunching sound and Tina and I watched in muted awe as the hulking chunk of crippled metal toppled slowly forwards. Then, almost as if we were watching a slow motion film clip, it dipped forward and slithered off the edge, crashing into the fast moving water below with an almighty splash.
For a moment, there was an eerie silence, broken only by the rhythmic pulse of the river as it coursed under the bridge. Several people had exited from the pub further down the road now to see what all the commotion was about and before long the bridge was teeming with shouting, alarmed locals, some of them frantically calling out for help while others peered over the bridge’s brick wall trying to get a glimpse of the car that had just careered into the river below.
I decided it was time to make ourselves scarce. Whoever those guys in that car were, they were no friends of ours. I didn’t even care if they could swim or not. They could fend for themselves. I thumbed the RE5’s starter button and as innocuously as possible rode away from the accident scene in the opposite direction. We reached Tina’s house about ten minutes later just as the low fuel level warning light flickered on.
Chapter 4:
Something was tugging at my shoulder. “Toddyboy, wake up!” I opened my eyes and there was Tina was staring down at me. I flinched and pulled back.
“You’ve been making strange noises in yer sleep,” she said. “Here I brought you a cuppa.”
I sat up, rubbed my eyes and looked around me. I was in a small sitting room perched on an old sofa that by the looks of it I’d slept on. I was totally disoriented. “How did I get here?” I muttered.
Tina looked at me a bit strange. “You rode here on your bike with me on the back, remember?”
I feebly reached for the cuppa, obligingly held there by Tina and clasped it with both hands. It was hot! Reactively, I grabbed the cup handle with my right hand and let go with my left. It was all coming back to me now.
“Bad dream”? Tina asked.
I just looked up at her with a blank stare. Bad dream! Are you kidding love? I’m trapped in a time before I was born and if that wasn’t bad enough We’d both nearly been made into mincemeat by a bunch of maniacs in a Chevy who were now most likely all laying dead at the bottom of a fast flowing river. That’s not a dream! More like a nightmare on speed if you ask me. Even worse, there was nothing I could do about it. I pinched myself again – hard, just to be sure. I winced. It hurt.
Tina looked at me strangely. “That’s the second time I’ve seen you do that,” she said.
“Where’s my bike?” I asked, ignoring her comment
“Out back in the garden where you left it,” Tina replied, sitting down beside me on the old threadbare sofa.
“I feel like nuts,” I moaned as I sipped on the tea.
“I’m not surprised after what happened last night, Toddyboy. You’re a strange one you are and you know some even stranger people,” she said. “Who were those maniacs?”
I just shrugged. “No idea but they weren’t friends of mine if that what you mean,” I replied.
“You hungry? I can make us some breakfast if you like,” she offered.
I nodded absently and with that, Tina got up and went out of the room. I sat there for a moment feeling pretty sorry for myself. Who were those guys? There was an old radio sitting on the sideboard, like something my Nan would have owned. I reached over, turned it on and fiddled with the dial. I couldn’t get anything other than a classical music station. As I sat there listening to it I heard something else. It sounded vaguely familiar. What was it? Then my heart skipped a beat. It was my phone’s ring-tone! The familiar noise burbled out from inside my bike jacket. WTF! Someone was calling me. How? In a mad panic I lurched forward to grab my jacket which was spread out on the coffee table, inadvertently dumping the cup of tea on the floor as I did so. Frantically fumbling around inside of my the breast pocket I snatched the phone out. My hands were trembling as I looked at it in anticipation. There was no number showing. I pressed the red circle and held the phone to my ear.
“Hello!”
“Do not …ell anyone what happened. Do you ….erstand?” came a faint, jerky voice.
There was a lot of background noise, a kind of whistling sound that fluctuated up and down but and I couldn’t really hear what was being said properly.
“Who the hell is this?” I replied.
“You must not ..veal who you really are or whe.. you came from,” the voice asserted.
I could feel my pulse pounding in my ear. My hands were shaking, for if this wasn’t another dream inside this ever present nightmare then I really WAS connected to someone on this smartphone that in NO way could be connected to any network as there wasn’t any network, internet, satellites or WiFi, yet the voice was real and whoever it was, was talking directly to ME!
“Wha .. what do I do then?” was all I could mutter.
“We’ve been ….. to get hold of you …or some time. Does your device have ..attery enough to last a few hours?” asked the voice.
What was that he was saying - ‘battery’ maybe? I looked at the charge indicator. It was on 1%. nuts! “No, it’s almost dead,” I replied. “Who are you and how can you be talking to me on this phone?” I demanded to know.
“Do … have a means to …eep it charged,” the voice asked.
The background interference was getting worse.
I couldn’t think straight for a moment. He was asking if I had the means to charge it I think. Then I realised I had USB cable in my jacket and a 12v charger socket on the bike! “Yes I do!” I blurted out.
“Make sure you …. the device charged and …ctioning and you must be near a radio that’s turned on or … can’t reach you.”
I was confused. “Why a radio?” I asked.
The mysterious caller seemed to be explaining that my smartphone could pick up VHF frequencies if it was near enough to a functioning and turned on radio, though I couldn’t be sure. The interference was blocking out some of his words. How the hell that could work I had no idea but to be honest I didn’t care. Whoever was talking to me knew of my plight. Maybe they could help me get back to reality!
“Who are you,” I demanded to know.
“My name is ..obbs. You need to …et to the MoD station near ……………………….” Then the phone went dead.
No! No! No! I sat there staring at the dead phone, dumfounded at what had just occurred.
Just at that moment Tina entered the room carrying a plate of scrambled eggs on toast. She looked straight at the iPhone in my hand. “What is that thing?” she asked. “I saw you looking it in the Café last night.”
“I have to charge it,” I replied.
“Wot yer mean – charge it?” she asked.
I ignored her, got up off the sofa and brushed past her then made my way down the narrow hallway, into the rear dining room and out through the back door where the RE5 was parked up in the back garden. I fumbled around in my jeans pocket for the keys and charger cable. A few seconds later I had the phone connected to the charger.
Tina was standing at the back door, plate of toast and eggs in her hand watching me with a renewed sense of suspicion.
I turned around and gave her a weak grin. “That looks tasty,” I said.
“You aint gettin’ nuffink till you tell me what you’re playin’ at,” Tina warned, holding the plate away from me. “What is that thing?”
I shook my head and sighed. Whoever that was talking to me on the phone specifically forbade me from revealing who I was or why I was here. They didn’t say why but they were pretty darn adamant about it for some reason. What did he say his name was - …obbs? I didn’t catch all of it. I desperately wanted to tell someone about my predicament. Even if it made me sound like a nutter at least I’d be able to share my insanity with someone! He’d said something about getting to the MoD station just before the phone died. Did he mean the one near the A41? Did this all have something to do with those rumours of strange lights and people disappearing? My mind was working overtime. I knew had to give Tina some kind of explanation or she was going to lose the plot with me but I didn’t want to lie to her. I also didn’t want to overwhelm her with the truth either. I’d have to compromise. “Come inside and sit down. I need to tell you something,” I muttered.
“Look, I’ve come a long way Tina. That bike I’m riding bike is very futuristic. It’s a concept bike for the future. I got lost riding it to where I was going and I need to get back there or a lot of people are going to be worried. I’m late as it is. That’s all there is to it really.” I hadn’t lied; I’d just circumvented the truth a bit.
That seemed to placate her somewhat but she didn’t let up. “And that thing you’re ‘charging’ out there on your ‘futuristic Neverlands bike’ What’s all that about then?” she asked.
“I’m just topping up its battery,” I replied. “It’ll take about half an hour. I’ll show it to you then. And as for the bike being from the Netherlands, well, to be honest that was a little fib I told the cops to confuse them. It’s not from the Netherlands. It’s actually from Japan.”
Tina furrowed her eyebrows. “Japan? Wot you mean where all those little squint eyed people live?” she asked.
I nodded. “That’s right. They’re very advanced with engineering over there.”
“How come you got it then, this bike from Japan?” she asked.
“Well. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” I replied.
“And those maniacs in them cars last night. Who were they?” she asked.
I shrugged and spread the palms of my hands upwards. “I honestly don’t know Tina (and that was the truth) Then again, a unique machine like that can attract a lot of attention, both good and bad. Maybe they wanted to steal it. Anyway, they weren’t successful and here we are.”
So far I thought I’d done a pretty good job of explaining without outright lying, but I needed to divert her attention off this line of questioning. “Look that’s enough about me,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself. You’ve paid for my dinner, put me up for the night, made me breakfast, but I don’t really know anything about you.”
“There’s not much to know really, she began. “I live ere wiv me Mum. Me Dad died in the war and Mum brought me up. I have no brothers or sisters. I don’t even ‘ave a cat! Eddie’s alright but he’s a rocker – tough guy. You know the type. You’re not like ‘im. It’s alright I suppose. We get along.
We spent the next half hour just chatting, about all sorts of things really. I was careful to keep the subject matter all about her life and not mine though. Then the matter of my iPhone came up again. I wasn’t going to get away with avoiding this any longer. It’d be charged enough now so I went out back, unhooked it from the charger cable and brought it in to show her. “It’s a mini music box. Kind of like a miniature record player only without the records,” I explained (I wasn’t lying, at least that was partly what it did.)
“A what?” she asked, reaching towards it, again, seemingly mesmerised by the digital screen.
“Want to see how it works?” I said. I had hundreds of my favourite tunes saved on my phone. I opened the music app and scrolled down to Artists. I found a David Bowie song “Starman” and selected it. “Listen,” I said.
As the song played, Tina just sat there fascinated. “How does it work like that?” she asked.
“Want to hear some more?” I asked.
Tina nodded enthusiastically.
I selected “Your Song” by Elton John. When it was finished I stood up. I couldn’t hang about any longer. I had to find that guy I’d spoken to on the phone.
“Listen Teens (that was my new nickname for her), I have to get somewhere as quick as possible but I’ve got no petrol in my bike and no English money to pay for it with. Can you help me out again. I’ll pay you back,” I asked.
Tina nodded and reached in her pocket pulling out a one pound note.
Then, as she handed it to me she did something that took me completely by surprise. She leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. Now, it’d been a while since I’d kissed a teenage girl. About forty years or so by my reckoning and I have to admit she caught me off balance. It was a surreal moment, though with all the things that had occurred in the past twenty four hours this was about the most real thing that I’d experienced.
The fact that I was, well, once was, sixty two years old, married with kids and grandkids somehow got overlooked in the heat of the moment. Her lips were full and luscious. Her body was lean and supple and as I grasped her and drew her nearer I realised I hadn’t felt as horny as this since I could remember! Was this really happening? Her breathing became erratic as my hand reached under her shirt …….
Then the sound of a door slamming shut put paid to all that. Someone had come in through the front door!
Tina abruptly pulled away from me, short of breath and face flushed. “Mum’s back from work. She does nightshift at Apsley Mills. Whatever you do, don’t tell her you slept here last night,” she warned.
I’d completely forgotten all about the fact that anyone else might live here.
Tina rushed out into the hallway and I could hear her talking to someone. Then she entered the room again with an older woman in tow. The resemblance was obvious. “This is Tod, Mum. He’s a friend of mine I met at the Bee last night,” she explained, as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Nice to meet you Tod. You’re not from around here are you?” She questioned.
“Er, no. Not, not really,” I answered furtively.
The woman looked at me, then sideways at her rosy cheeked daughter who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with her
“Where’s your bike, Tina?” her Mum asked.
“Oh, it broke down last night. Tod’s going to take me back to the cafe to fix it. That’s why he’s here - to give me a lift,” Tina lied.
“Oh I see,” said her Mum sagely. “Eddie not about then?”
“Er, no. Ed’s working today Mum.”
Her Mum raised an eyebrow. “What, on a Saturday? That’s not like him!” she said, questioningly. This woman hadn’t just come down with the last rainfall. She knew what was going on and Tina knew she knew it too.
“Anyway, were off now. See you later,” Tina urged, looking nervously at me. “I’ll just go grab me helmet and jacket, Tod. Won’t be a mo.” And with that she disappeared upstairs, leaving me and her Mum alone for a few awkward moments
“What’s your story then Tod?” Tina’s Mum asked.
(Holy crap - my story - now that would be an icebreaker wouldn’t it!) However, I wasn’t about to get into that right now. As I was conjuring up yet another ‘plausible’ explanation Tina came bounding into the room all kitted up and holding my crash helmet in her hands. “See ya Mum,” she said again as she hurriedly ushered me out.
"You be careful and no speeding with her on the back Tod!" her Mum chided, watching wistfully as we pushed the RE5 through the back gate.
Out on the street I straddled the bike and flicked the ignition switch on. Tina jumped on the back. “Which way?” I asked.
“I’ll show you once we get going” she said. "Follow my directions."
I fired the RE5 up, clicked her into gear and we set off down the road.
Chapter 5:
After filling up with fuel at a petrol station a mile or so down the road, which only cost ten shillings (approx 50 pence in modern money) we set off towards the old MoD station near Hendon. I had no idea if this was the right place to go but I didn’t exactly have much else to go on and we weren’t anywhere near a switched on radio.
Ten minutes later we were outside the barbed wired gates of the place. There was one armed guard in a sentry box inside the gate who came out and confronted us.
I didn’t know what to say or do. What if this wasn’t the correct place?
The guard was eyeing up the RE5, obviously slightly confused.
“I’m here to see Mr Obbs’” I said.
The guard furrowed his eyebrows. He was obviously thinking about something. “You mean Major Hobbs?” he replied.
I nodded. Sounded close enough though I didn’t really know.
The guard went back to his hut and spoke on the phone.
It was a tense minute or so that we waited there, not knowing what was going to happen next, then in the distance I saw two vehicles heading our way at a fair lick. The lead vehicle, a Land Rover, skidded to a halt and a man in Officers army uniform and sporting a wide moustache jumped out, immediately followed by two armed squaddies. He motioned to the sentry who immediately saluted and opened the gates.
“Major Hobbs,” he announced, holding out his hand to me, which I shook. “And you must be the chap I was talking to earlier. Interesting machine you have there.” Then he spoke to Tina. “And you are, Miss?”
“Tina,” she replied.
The man looked pensively at Tina, then at me. “I wasn’t expecting two of you. Very well, would you follow me please,” he said. It wasn’t really a request. More a polite command. Then he jumped back into the Land Rover and we followed it along the driveway with the other vehicle immediately behind us. A strange convoy heading towards a mysterious building.
As we rode, Tina leaned forward and asked “Where we going Tod. Who are these people?”
All I could think of as a response was that they were the people I was supposed to meet.
I was directed to park the RE5 in a hangar which I did and the two of us were then ushered into Major Dobb’s office. Tina asked if she could use the bathroom and was escorted away by a female army officer.
Alone with Dobbs in his office he got right to the point. “Well young man, I expect you’re wondering what you’re doing here!” he said.
“It had crossed my mind, yes,” I replied.
“Alright. I’ll get right down to the point,” Dobbs began. “You have been an unwitting guinea pig in a time travel episode.”
It sounded completely bonkers but somehow it was a relief to hear someone actually say it. This definitely wasn’t a bad dream after all. It was the real deal.
“And before you ask,” he continued, “we’re going to attempt to send you back to where you came from.”
“Really - How?” I asked, now very animated.
“By replicating your exact movements just prior to you ending up here in 1954 and reverse engineering the experiment that made it occur,” he said.
“Time travel machine,” I answered blankly.
“Correct,” Dobbs said. “An honest to goodness time travel machine. Quite something, don’t you think? We’ve been experimenting with it for some time and now it appears it works, as evidenced by the fact that here you are!”
I was trying to figure out in my mind how this was all going to work but Dobbs pre-empted that.
“In case you wondered, we are in touch with our counterparts from the future. Fortunately this device is still a well kept secret in your time. We intend to keep it that way. Which brings me to the question of that young lady you brought here with you. Does she know anything about this?” he asked, his tone hardening as he spoke.
I explained how I’d met Tina and that she knew absolutely nothing about my real identity or where I’d really come from. Dobbs seemed to relax a little on hearing that.
“Very good. In that case, we’ll keep it that way, send her home and she will never be any the wiser. You on the other hand will be required to sign the official secrets act upon your return and never speak of this matter to anyone - ever. If you do, I’m afraid you’ll be in for some severe trouble. Is that quite clear?”
I nodded.
Dobbs then got up and motioned towards the door. “I’d like you to say goodbye to your young friend now. We need to get you back home too,” Dobbs said.
We found Tina in another room where she’d been kept occupied by the lady officer who’d shown her to the bathroom. They were both looking at some pictures in a book and smiling and laughing.
“Tod, look. They’ve got pictures of me Dad in here,” she announced excitedly. “Never seen em before.” She pointed out a few pictures of men standing in front of some desert tanks. “That’s ‘im there she said, pointing to one of the men. “I don’t have any pictures of him except an old grainy one of when he married Mum!” She was obviously really happy to see them.
Major Hobbs said she could have them which made her even happier. Dobbs then looked across at me and I knew it was time to say goodbye.
I took Tina outside. “I have to go now Tina,” I said. “Major Hobbs will have someone drive you home.”
“Where you going,” she asked. “Neverland?”
I had to stifle a laugh as she said that. “Yeah, time for me to go home too,” I replied.
Will I ever see you again?” she asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s a small world these days.” Then I gave her the key fob to my bike. It had a nice blue enamelled RE5 logo on it. We had one last hug then I waved goodbye as she was driven off by the woman officer in an army car.
I looked round to find Dobbs standing at my side. “Well, I suppose you want to see what all the fuss is about then,” he said, and directed me back into the building. We walked down some steps and into a large warehouse like area in the centre of which was a large machine that looked something like a cross between a tank and a spaceship.
“We’ve had a fair bit of argy-bargy with the Americans over this contraption,” he began. “They were none too happy that we managed to capture it from the Nazi’s and ship it back to Blighty before they got their hands on it. Once they did find out about it they began kicking up an almighty fuss with our Government and wanted unlimited access to the technology. So far they haven’t been successful. The truth is we were and still are indebted to them for their help during the war but they really were a greedy bunch of sods, whisking away the top Scientists and Nazi brains back to America with their ‘project paperclip.’ Many of those Scientists were War criminals and were never brought to justice for the atrocities they committed. We protested of course but you know how it is, the one with the biggest stick gets the lions share of the meal.”
I was fascinated. Not just by the fact that a time travel device existed, but from where it emanated. The Nazi’s came up with this? Then a thought crossed my mind.
“So, those characters who were after me in that American car; who were they exactly?” I asked. Based on what Dobbs had already told me I kind of had an idea now, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear.
“Nothing to do with us, old boy. We believe they were Nazi’s,” he replied.
The confused look on my face prompted him to explain further.
“Unfortunately, the Americans plan backfired on them somewhat. The Nazi scientists, doctors and biologists that were secretly filtered back to the USA under the guise of project paperclip weren’t just clever, they were also still extremely idealistic. The Yanks were so enamoured with the technical skills and knowledge of their guests that they forgot just how insane the Nazi doctrine was and how difficult it is to eradicate an idea that’s been indoctrinated into someone. It’s been almost a decade since then and they’ve become entrenched in American society, all the way up to some of the highest levels of their political hierarchy. Now we believe that they’re back at their old game again - world domination. The fourth Reich, old chap. Bloody ridiculous!”
“How is that possible?” I asked
Dobbs was a matter of fact character and appeared to be a very positive type of man but I could see in his eyes that the situation he was referring to was fast getting out of control. “We are obliged to accommodate the Americans I’m afraid. Since the war ended several US military bases have been established here in the United Kingdom. They have their own secret spy department which used to be called the OSS, now it’s known as the CIA. Unfortunately, it’s littered with Nazi’s. They operate on their own agenda and obviously were trying to capture you. Thankfully, they didn’t and you were instrumental in sending a few of them over that bridge. A couple less to have to keep tabs on I’m happy to say.”
I just shook my head in disbelief. Just about everything that had occurred to me in the past day or so was unbelievable and now this was the icing on the cake. What a story this would make, I thought. But it was a story I could never tell.
“So what now?” I asked.
“We send you back,” Dobbs replied. And with that he motivated the other men in the room into action. There was a flurry of activity as the machine began to make a strange noise, a kind of whirring, humming sound.
Dobbs escorted me back outside where two technicians in overalls were waiting with the RE5. My men tell me your machine is like nothing they’ve ever seen. Japanese apparently?”
“Yes, it’s even a bit unique in my time,” I replied.
“It’s a strange world we live in, and will live in by the looks of it,” Dobbs ruminated. “The Japs were bludgeoned into submission by the atomic bomb yet bounce back to produce exotica like this, while Nazi’s play hide and seek with us and are still causing trouble. Still, it appears that England is still a free country in 2020 so they didn’t succeed with their comeback plan, yet. Let’s hope that continues.”
Then he explained what was going to happen next.
“We’re going to duplicate the exact same frequency that transported you here, only in reverse. With any luck you’ll return to the exact time and place that you came from,” explained Dobbs.
“And if I’m not lucky?” I questioned with a slight lump in my throat.
Dobbs paused for a moment. Then he looked me dead in the eye and said “Let’s just be lucky, eh, old boy!”
I was then briefed on the procedure. I had to duplicate the exact moments prior to the point where I thought I’d been hit by lightning. That meant riding along the same stretch of road at approximately the same speed at a specific time. I chuckled to myself nervously. (I’d watched Back To The Future) I could do this.
I fired up the RE5 and shook Dobb’s hand. Then I followed one of the Land Rovers out through the gates. ‘Ground Zero’ was only a mile or so away. We reached the Elstree roundabout and the two men in the Land Rover pulled across the road to stop any potential traffic. There wasn’t actually any, it was just a precaution.
I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath and started off down the A41. As the speedo needle arched to the right I knew I was coming up to the place where I’d suddenly disappeared in 2020 and then reappeared here in 1954. I steeled myself for what was coming.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash ……….
Chapter 6:
A hard jolt, followed by what felt like an electric shock coursing through my body caused me to tense up. Everything went into slow motion. I couldn’t see anything. There was a lull then another hard jolt and all of a sudden there was the Beemer dead ahead of me. Up above storm clouds filled the skies. It was raining. There were dozens of vehicles on either side of the road.
I’d done it!
I suddenly felt heavier, older and slower but I was here, I was still alive, and the RE5 was still purring like a girl thingy cat. As I rode on I spied the Hilton Hotel to my right. No Busy Bee Cafe sign there anymore. As I passed it by I felt a bit sad, like I’d lost something and would never get it back.
It took me another ten minutes to get home by which time it was really starting to rain. I parked the RE5 up in the garage, discarded my wet jacket, kissed my wife and sat down to a steaming hot plate of Cottage pie and a cup of tea.
“Well, I’m back!” I announced.
My wife looked at me a bit funny and told me to put my plate in the sink when I’d finished.
It didn’t take long for my life to get back to normal. There were no physical side effects from the time travel experience. It was almost as if nothing had happened. I’d returned to exactly the same time as I’d gone. No one was any the wiser, except me of course. Major Hobbs would be long gone by now most likely, though I didn’t doubt for a moment that I was being monitored in some way or another. I’d been visited by two Government types the day after my return and had to sign the official secrets act. They’d waited till my wife had gone out before they knocked on the door so they had obviously been keeping close tabs on me. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
It didn’t take me long though to start wondering whatever happened to Tina. A quick peruse on Google soon filled me in on the details. Apparently, she still lived at the same address in Hunton Bridge where I’d slept on that old threadbare sofa back in the day. More importantly she was still alive and kicking, albeit she was now 84 years old. I pondered over it for several days. Should I, or shouldn’t I? Then I figured, what the hell!
Parking the RE5 up on the road outside I walked up the front pathway. I was sure I’d been followed by a nondescript black car but I couldn’t see anything now. The house didn’t look much different to be honest. The windows were now modern plastic framed double glazing and the front door was a different colour but other than that it looked pretty much as I remembered it. I paused for a moment before ringing the bell. What would I say to her? What would she look like now? I realised my hand was trembling a bit as I pushed on the doorbell.
An old lady answered the door. She had white hair and wrinkled skin but those dark green eyes were unmistakable. She looked at me puzzled, her eyes narrowed, then suddenly she put her hand to her mouth and let out a muted yelp. “Tod, is that you?” she squeaked.
“Sure is Teens,” I replied. “Any chance of a cuppa?”
We sat and talked for what seemed an age. She couldn’t quite understand how I looked so young. She was eighty four. I should, by rights, be a little older than that but she said I didn’t look much over fifty. How come? She had a point. I just fobbed it off saying I’d had a good life and married a good woman who fed me well. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either.
She told me that she’d broken up with her boyfriend Eddie not long after I went back home to ‘Neverland,’ and that she met and eventually married another chap who worked at the Vincent Motorbike factory in Stevenage. They’d met at the Busy bee Cafe. They had only one child, a son, who tragically was killed while serving in the Gulf War and her husband had died only a couple of years ago, leaving her a widow. She was on her own now with only memories to keep her company.
She told me to wait while she went upstairs to get something and returned with a small jewellery box. Inside was the RE5 key fob I’d given her. She’d kept it all this time!
I then took her outside and showed her the RE5. She just looked at it bemused. How could I possibly still have it? I told her I’d looked after it and that I’d never sell it. She just shook her head and said “You always were a funny one, Tod.”
I stayed in touch with Tina and visited her often. Unfortunately, she passed away a few months later. In her will she left a few things - for me! One of them was the RE5 key fob I’d given to her all that time ago, and there were a couple of other things too. The first was a 1955 Vincent Black Shadow that was in as-new condition with only four thousand miles on the odometer, and if that wasn’t enough, a Suzuki RX5. No, not an RE5, an RX5. One of only a handful of prototype bikes the factory ever made!
The solicitor informed me that the motorcycle had been a gift to Tina's husband from Mr Vincent himself for all his many years of loyal service. The RX5 was literally brand spanking new with only 1 mile on the clock and had never been run. He handed me the documents for both machines along with an unopened letter addressed to me. Inside was a note in Tina’s handwriting.
Dear Toddyboy,
I know you haven’t told me the whole truth about yourself. I suppose we all have our secrets and some things are probably best left unsaid. You know, I used to think about you a lot after you left. I only knew you for a short time but you certainly gave me a lot to think about and I loved your funny stories, especially that one about being from the future. It always made me chuckle when I thought about the day you told me that.
When I saw the unveiling of the Suzuki Rotary in 1975 I recognised it immediately as the same bike you were riding when I first met you at the Busy Bee and I simply had to have one. Joe, my husband, already had the Vincent which was his pride and joy and he didn’t want another bike but I literally begged him to buy one of these new Suzuki bikes for me. Fortunately, he knew the owner of the UK’s main distributor and somehow managed to get this bike off him. Apparently it was a special prototype one. I hope that’s okay. Anyway, I hope you like them. Ride safe.
It was lovely knowing you.
Love, Teens.’
I nearly cried.
