Back in Nagasaki

A Goodnight Sweetheart tale. I should perhaps point out that Gary Sparrow is not the main character in this tale, but a pal of his who stumbles upon the same time portal. This tale explores what might have happened to someone else using the same time portal. Hope this doesn't make Steve a Gary Stu! He's going to have enough problems!

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In an expensive house in Finchley, two men were having a boys night in. This was a Tuesday. In 1995. So not much was happening. The two decided to order a takeaway. A Chinese. A large Chinese. 'Hope I can have first dibs on the Chou ribs.' said Steve who was found of that particular dish. 'Don't worry, I'll get enough for both.' replied Ron.

Steve Livingston wondered about this rather confident statement from his pal. Ron was generous, but also very fond of his food. And could eat great amounts without even knowing it. This was a man, Steve recalled that could devour not only an Indian takeaway, a Chinese and a Pizza in one meal. Not to mention chocolate ice cream for desert. Still, Steve looked around the room and wondered what to do.

As Ron rang for the takeaway, Steve took a look at his video rack. Video, not DVDs, this been 1995. 'Hey, Ron, we're here for a while. You've a video here Bridge over the River Kwi, I love a good war film. Nothing like watching other people die, whilst I am nice and save enjoying a meal. Steve was blond, fairly short, but muscular and quite nimble on his feet as it happened.

'Yes, we are here for the night. Let's see what life is like in hotel Singapore, 1942! The Imperial Japanese experience.' Both men laughed. It might seem harsh but the War was long ago and not an experience that they were ever likely to encounter. For now, anyway.

Steve joked whilst watching the movie, 'One slice of bread for a day. After been starved for two. That's what I call a celebrity diet!'

Ron made a face. He was fond of his food, and maybe did feel a tinge of sympathy for the characters in it. 'I think you're been a bit brutal here, mate, have a beer,' suggested he and threw a can of lager to Steve. Slightly to Steve's left, but Steve caught it nimbly with quite impressive reflexes. He took a swig.

'Maybe,' he agreed, scoffing on a Sushi. 'But come on, it happened. A long time ago. We should be able to look back and laugh at it. Doesn't affect us nowadays does it?'

'Well, for some,' said Ron a bit thoughtfully.

An odd thing to say, Steve thought, 'Why do you say that? can't travel in time can you? Not Dr Who are you?' joked he. Then he assumed that Ron was referring to the characters in the film. Actually, Ron was rather a big man, dark, balding and a bit overweight. Still he did enjoy his food.

'The doorbell rang. 'Oh, speak of the devil,' said Ron, though it wasn't Dr Who. The exact opposite in fact, at least in Steve's eyes. Gary Sparrow, a man they both knew from the pub. Gary was tall and lanky with a slight hung dog look about him. He was about a foot taller than the average man, unlike Steve who was a bit short. Though Gary did look startled when he saw what they were watching.

'Oh, my our poor brave boys, how they do suffer on the far east,' Another odd thing to say. Seemed to be the evening for saying odd things, thought Steve.

Ron put him straight, 'You mean how did they suffer,'

'Yes, yes of course. Cheers!' Gary took the lager that Ron offered him. He sat down on the sofa, his long legs, clad in blue jeans stretching out underneath him. 'I was going to ask you, two... Oh will you look, at that!' Gary's thoughts were interrupted by a piece of Japanese brutality upon a poor Tommy, 'Not to forget about our big Darts match on Thursday. Need to be at our best for that one!'

'How could we forget,' replied Ron. As was his wont Ron was smartly dressed in red shirt and dark trousers. 'Actually, Steve is doing removals not far from here with his old man, we could meet up if you like. The Royal Oak lunchtime?' As far as Steve was aware Ron hadn't said anything funny, so he wondered why they both giggled like girls at this.

'Sounds like a good idea, I could do with a bit of lunch I'm sure. Well make that a date.' So it was agreed and they spend the rest of the evening joyfully finishing their takeaways with beer whilst watching the sufferings of wartime POWs in the far east. Only interrupted by a phone call from Gary's wife Yvonne. 'Yes, dearest, see you soon, love you loads, light of my life, bye!' Gary said to considerable smirking from Ron.

'Charming lady,' said Ron and Steve who knew her agreed.

So, after the evenings entertainment, time drew on to Thursday. As he said, Steve was working in the Eastend, doing removals with his Dad and brother. Though, as he found out, the Royal Oak was a difficult pub to find. Right on the back streets, Steve even passed Gary's shop on the way, Blitz and Pieces, but Gary wasn't in. But after some looking Steve found the ale house. It was a modern place. For 1995! A mix of people some city folk, but tradesmen also, so Steve didn't look too out of place in his work clothes. As it happened the move was fairly quiet so Steve wasn't needed much, his Dad told him to take his time at lunch and relax.

The Royal Oak was a small pub, however, dingy and rather unkempt. It could also have done with some decorating. It consisted of one bar and a small TV in the corner, and a fruit machine with flashing lights. These were before the days when every pub had TVs at every angle and people even had the check to complain if one screen failed. This TV showed satellite coverage of some small war in the Balkans. On the plus side the price of beer was half the price it would be around twenty years later.

Steve accepted the offer of a pint of lager from Gary. They looked around the place with interest. 'I suppose you come here all the time.' Steve suggested.

'Not quite all of this time,' said Ron and again Steve thought he was not in on a private joke as both Ron and Gary laughed. 'Has a nice little fireplace,' Ron pointed out.

'Wasn't always a fireplace here,' said Gary knowingly.

Steve's attention was strangely taken up by a picture of a policeman in forties uniform. 'Look, says here Reg Deadman heroic wartime Bobby. Well, I suppose this pub must have been on his beat.' Gary was also looking at the picture with interest. 'Takes a reasonable picture as well. All those years ago!'

'I wonder,' said Gary having an idea. Gary called over the landlord, whom he knew, had run the pub for many years, well it wasn't the type of place that changed hands much, 'Eric!'

'Hang on half a mo, yes?' answered the landlord.

'Don't happen to know anything about this chap in this picture do you?

Eric looked at the picture and scratched his chin. He was a short and bald, slightly tubby little man in chefs uniform as he had been cooking. 'Yes, he was around when I was a nipper. One of the legends of this place. But the old timers know more about him. He was the local bobby in the blitz you know!'

'Yes, thank you, I was aware. I've met his grandson.'

'Ah, yes, the spitting image. A rather modern copper. A terrier on the case.'

'Yes I know I've met him. A stickler for the law,' replied Gary.

'A bit unlike this chap if I am to be truthful. Brains wasn't his strong point. For example,' Eric laughed, 'do you know, he once commissioned the Kray twins to do some work on his garage. He paid them in advance. I think it wasn't until 1970 that they got around to doing anything.

'On a whim, Gary asked, 'Who was your grandfather, by the way?'

'He was called Eric too. And used to run a pub in the war. Bigger than this one, however, called the Golden Lion down by the docks. Still, can't stand around here chatting all day, I've got things to do, see you later!' Gary's face was a picture of horror to anyone that might have noticed.

The three wondered about having a coffee to finish off, but decided to do so cheaper at Gary's shop. Though Gary looked in his fridge and said, 'I'm out of milk!'

'Oh, not to worry, I'll nip out and get some,' offered Steve.

'What about those security gates?'

'Don't worry Ron, the alarms off.' said Gary.

So Steve nipped out the back to the nearest shops.

'Now he's gone for a moment, about Phoebe. She's feeling a bit off at the moment.'

'Possibly something to do with all of those bombs going off. Or maybe rationing. Or maybe your baby. Totally unique, however,' Whilst he was talking, Ron looked around Gary's shop full of wartime memorabilia. He might have already have had a large meal, but Ron still munched at a chocolate digestive. 'Having a child born nearly 30 years before you.'

'Always a possibly with time travelling. I should nip back there really. But I think I'll just wait till Steve gets back, you?'

'Not much on at my place. I'm only the manager. But you crack on!'

Gary and Ron hang around for a while, but Steve seemed a long time in coming back. There wasn't much going on in his shop. After around an hour and with not much trade, Gary decided that Steve wasn't coming back and so decided to nip back in time. Ron would look after the shop for a while, but he was not your natural salesman. And Gary wondered why he never made that much money.

Gary went back with his usual route, but this took him to the past. To the wartime version of the Royal Oak. A familiar sight to him. Well, Britain and all the other patrons were in the middle of a desperate struggle for survival on all fronts, but for Gary, this represented his other life, and liked the contrast to the Nineties. He seemed even to enjoy the occasional scrapes he got into.

His wife, Phoebe gave him a smile, Reg was on his beat but enjoying a nice ale, a couple of soldiers were in the corner, and Steve was at the bar. WHAT? Only he could time-travel, or at least Gary had always assumed.

Gary was horrified, but Steve was pleased to see a friendly face. 'Hi, Gary,'

'What are you doing here?' cried Gary,

'Hi, Gary, nice to see you, you in this dream as well?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Well, I must be in a dream. Good one, however, that very same pub were in just a while back, but 43 years ago. There's that policeman who's picture we were looking at. Say, have I fallen into a coma and you are speaking to me in an effort to revive me, thanks, pal' concluded Steve. Steve was actually fairly relaxed about it, having assumed he was dreaming. The only thing he was wondering about was the strange taste of the forties beer he was drinking.

More relaxed than Gary was. Gary grabbed Steve's shoulders, 'This is so wrong,'

'Obviously, you're telling me!' Steve agreed.

'Come on, out, out!' Gary took Steve's arm and frogmarched him back through the time-tunnel, through the gates and back to Gary's shop were Ron was waiting almost about to leave.

'Oh, you woke me,thanks mate,'

Gary was happy to agree. 'Yes, you were dreaming, ha,ha!'

But Gary didn't sound convincing. At least not to Ron who knew the truth which was that Steve really did travel back through time to the forties, through the time tunnel. 'Perhaps it wasn't a dream, maybe it was real,' Ron suggested with a grin on his face for the benefit of Steve. Also for Gary who Ron was always a bit jealous of his time travelling abilities.

'No, no, it couldn't have been real, he can't go back,' panicked Gary.

'If it wasn't a dream, it was good. Going back in time, talking to Reg, he was a bit dim I thought, that barmaid was a bit tasty, I wonder if she might be interested in me, seeing that pub in full wartime regally, though it did look a bit dreary to be honest,'

Gary's face lurched from horror to horror as he listened to Steve.

'Precisely why can't Steve time travel, Gary?' asked Ron. 'Are you jealous in case someone else can do it as well as you. You shouldn't get possessive about this thing, but you can sometimes, I've noticed this,' Ron grinned as he leaned on the bar of Gays shop. He was enjoying Gary's look of panic.

'No, no its not that at all, it's just that... time travelling is a whole new experience for a novice, there are real dangers,' the reader can judge how genuine Gary's reply, 'he could do unknowing damage. How did you pay for your beer for example, you have no forties money.'

Steve was a bit disappointed. 'Oh, I made a trade. They liked my bananas so I exchanged a couple of them. A good deal, I thought.'

'You see what I mean? That can have unforeseen consequences. No, I'm sorry, you can't go back in time again, I forbid it, you have to go through my shop do to so, and I won't let you in here without my strict supervision, I'm sorry.' Gary made a show of going to the back of his shop and spreading his arms wide. There was a look of determination on his face.

Until Ron intervened on Steve's behalf. 'and who do you think you are, bouncer of time travel club 1942? I say he can time travel'

'What has this to do with you.' Gary argued angrily.

'Think you can manage by yourself do you? Think you can manage without all that help I give you? All those white fivers I print for your wartime currency? All those documents I print for you? You forbid Steve here from travelling back and you really are on your own.'

Steve was grateful for Ron's support, but wondered why Ron was been so. Maybe Ron was just been mischievous, creating trouble for its own sake. Ron could be a bit like that at times. Steve knew he enjoyed a good row.

Anyway, Gary crumbled faster than the Maginot line. 'All right, all right,' and moved away from the back exit of his shop. He even took it well and shook Steve's hand saying 'Welcome to World War Two,' which was a strange thing to welcome someone too, 'might be nice to have a time travelling buddy, actually, and you will need a hand at first. It can be a confusing place for a novice.'

'It was for you,' Ron agreed.

'I did get some strange looks when I asked for the nearest cash machine!' Steve admitted.

Gary laughed, 'see what I mean? What you need is some of Ron's white fivers. He does print 40s forgery so well,' and put his arm around Ron's shoulder in a gesture of reconciliation. Gary knew that Ron was so proud of his abilities as a printer he would take this as a good compliment.

With just a tiny touch of jealousy as he never could time travel, Ron offered, 'I suppose you will be wanting some more then?'

'Not just at this moment, actually, Ron, the ones I have will suffice. They do go a long way, longer than bananas, Steve!'

'Longer than nylon stockings?'

'Maybe not Ron!' and Ron and Gary laughed. Again those two seemed to be privy of some private joke of which Steve wasn't aware. 'We could go back now if you like but you're not quite properly dressed. Those work clothes are quite universal I suppose, but I do have a forties suit which should just fit you.'

Which it did and so a little while later, both Steve and Gary arm on each others shoulder, walked together across the time tunnel back to yester year. They waved farewell to Ron who waved back but then called, 'hey guys don't forget about our darts match tonight...' but none heard him. The team might be two players short,he thought. But then Ron himself tried to make the same journey, but as usual he ended up with his nose on Gary's security gates and kicked it in frustration. Time travel just wasn't for him.

After all the recent shanigans and because the time portal wasn't always quite 100% in tune, when Steve and Gary went back to 1940s Royal Oak, it was around 4pm. Not that busy, but the evening was only just starting. In fact only Phoebe and Reg were their. 'Hello, love, who's your mate?' asked Phoebe.

Gary introduced Steve and gave Phoebe a long kiss. Steve was a little taken aback as he knew he was married in the 90s. Before he twigged. He said quietly to Gary in a corner, 'Gary, you wouldn't be using the cover of time travel to be having an affair on the side, would you?'

Gary's face had rather a guilty expression. Steve had cottoned on to what Gary was doing quicker that Gary thought he would. 'All right,' said Reg and came to join them, shaking hands with Steve. The oddness of time travel was just beginning to be realities to Steve. 'You know, Gary you really ought to spend more time with your wife, Phoebes been missing you loads,'

It took a lot of effort for Steve to keep a straight face here. Steve was married here as well was he? But then he heard Gary's reply, 'sorry, I've been away. Big things happening in the far east. Us at h.q. have been busy sorting it out.'

Steve now did cough. Gary was a nice enough bloke, but the idea of him locking horns with the might of the Gestapo was something of a joke. This was a man, Steve recalled who couldn't even add his Darts up properly half the time. Still, everyone here believed him. The evening got better. After a while, Reg said 'we could do with some entertainment here,'

'Well someone put the duke-box on then,' suggested Steve,

Gary kicked him sharply in the shins saying, 'they don't have one here, this is 1942, remember,'

'Oh yes, of course, sorry, Gazza.'

'So ,come on, Gary, play us a song,' called Reg. There was a piano in the pub corner. Steve didn't really appreciate Gary's version of Bridge over Troubled Water, but everyone else did. 'Another hit from Gary, well done,' cried Reg, leading the small but enthusiastic applause.

'Yes, that one took some effort. More mellow than some of my other tunes,'

Steve asked Reg, 'so, how many other songs has Gary, er, written?'

'Ohh, lots, he has such talent in his music, in particular his writing. If he wasn't so busy with his war-work he'd be a major star,' to Steve's increasing astonishment he found out that Gary had written half of the Beetles and Rollin Stones tunes, many classic seventies material, Elton John hits and the odd Abba track to boot. He had to laugh but when Reg asked him why he found it so funny he replied,

'sorry, I had no idea he was so talented,' coughing as Gary was staring at him. Later on hu muttered to Gary, 'so let's get this straight, you have written many contemporary pop tunes, you are the forties equivalent of James Bond, no wonder you enjoy yourself here,' as he finished his drink.

Gary did have the grace to look a little embarrassed. 'Yes, I know. I couldn't help it, I had to think up a realistic alibi as to why I wasn't in the services. Your lucky people are not suspicious this evening and no-one has asked you. Still, you could do the same. I haven't quite claimed to have written every tune.

Altogether it was a very enjoyable evening, only marred by the odd dark reminder of the war. It was in the topic of many people's conversations and men in uniform did appear from time to time. There was a small group in the corner who looked sullen and shaken up. One snarled at Steve.

'They look a bit miserable,' Steve commented to Reg.

'Ah, they've just come back from the desert. Been chased across half of it by Rommell. No wonder they are a bit shell-shocked.'

Steve decided it was time to be returning to the 90s. But Gary was intent on staying. 'Im staying with Phoebe for a few days. See you soon,' and gave Steve a knowing wink. Steve shook his head and went back across the time portal.