Acme Time Travel Incorporated - Volume 2

Sunny Vale Care Home – Frinton-on-Sea

“Hi Ginny,” Monica said. “What are you doing down here? It’s your day off.”

“We’ve come down to see Mary ... Mary Sands,” Ginny said.

“How do you know Mary?” Monica asked. “She’s in a different unit to the one you normally work in. I didn’t think you’d ever met her ... or worked with her.”

“I think we might know her from some time back,” Ginny said, smiling.

Ginny noticed that Gabriel had politely turned away from them, allowing them to have their conversation. He was standing looking out into the front lawn.

“You know ... we ought to get together sometime,” Monica said. “Maybe we could go for a drink or something.”

“Sounds like a nice idea,” said Ginny.

“And I’ve never had the chance to chat to your chap,” Monica continued, “though he seems like a nice guy,” this last in a slight whisper.

“Tell you what,” Ginny said. “Why don’t you come along this evening? Gabriel’s boss is taking us both out for a drink and a bite to eat. He’s a nice guy. You might like to meet him.”

“Are you sure?” Monica said. “It sounds like a formal do.”

“It’s sort of like a little celebration,” Ginny said, “but I don’t think Barney would mind if you came. It’s only a burger and chips in the Olde Swan. Nothing special.”

“You said it was a celebration?” Monica said. “What are you celebrating?”

Ginny took hold of Monica’s hand and placed it onto her stomach, cupping the small roundness.

“What? Really?” Monica said.

“Yes, really,” Ginny said, smiling. “I wasn’t sure about telling people yet, but this big blabber-mouth ...,” she pointed affectionately to Gabriel, “he told his boss, Barney, and now Barney’s really excited about it. He wanted to do something to celebrate.”

“I don’t really think that I should come along to what is a very private celebration,” Monica said. “Maybe another time, eh?”

“I think it’s a little celebration to be shared with good friends,” said Ginny, “So I would like you to come along.”

Monica looked a little embarrassed, then she put her arms around Ginny and gave her a hug. “In that case, I would love to come,” she said. “I just hope I don’t say anything awkward in front of Gabriel’s boss.”

“I think he’ll love to meet you,” Ginny said.

Ginny leaned back and grabbed Gabriel’s hand.

“C’mon Gabe,” she said. “Let’s go in. Let’s go and meet Mary.”

. . . . . . . .

“This is the dementia unit,” Monica said. “You won’t have worked in this section yet.”

“Does that mean that Mary has dementia, then?” Ginny asked.

Monica seemed not to hear but continued down the corridor.

“All the doors have got wallpaper on,” Gabriel said. “Seems a bit bizarre. You can’t see them very easily, can you?”

“That’s the point,” explained Monica. “A lot of dementia clients feel the need to keep walking about. It’s like their illness drives them. But if they see an exit, a door, they tend to congregate round it.”

“I guess they want to get out,” suggested Gabriel.

“Maybe,” said Monica. “But when they see a door ... and they aren’t allowed to go through it, they become very anxious. If we make the doors look just like the corridor walls, then they don’t recognise them as doors. They just keep on walking round and round. It’s a simple visual trick, but it seems to keep them happier.”

“So, has Mary got ...?” Ginny said.

“Mary’s in here,” Monica said, pointing to a door on the left.

On the door it said

Mary Sands

Monica knocked on the door.

A woman’s voice said, “Please come in.”

Monica opened the door, ushering Ginny and Gabriel inside.

“There are two people here who would like to see you,” Monica said. “They are called Ginny and Gabriel.”

Monica whispered to Ginny, “I’ll leave you to get on with it.”

“See you later this evening,” Ginny whispered back.

Monica showed herself out of the room.

An old lady was sitting in a straight-backed chair. It was next to a window which faced out onto the back gardens. She was dressed in a long cream dress. She had on cream shoes. Her hair was combed. She looked very alert. She was looking over towards them.

“Did she say Ginny?” the old lady asked.

“Yes,” Ginny said. “It’s Ginny and Gabriel.”

“Ginny Peters?” Mary said.

“Do you remember me?” Ginny said.

“How could I forget? I remember you both.”

“But it was so long ago,” said Ginny.

“It was 1968,” Mary said. “You said that you had come to see John. I made you a pot of tea.”

Gabriel looked at Ginny. His face showed enormous relief. They had expected her to have dementia. They had expected her to not remember anything.

“You and your boyfriend ... you brought us ... you brought us this,” she said, rolling back her left sleeve to reveal a simple lady’s wristwatch.

Ginny knelt down in front of Mary to look at the watch. As she did so, Mary caught her arm. She pulled Ginny towards her. She gave Ginny a big hug.

“We never ever forgot you, you know,” Mary said. “I know that I only saw you briefly, but after you had gone ... after John told me ...”

Ginny stood up ... she walked over to stand by Gabriel.

“You know that John is dead, don’t you?” Mary said.

“Yes, we have heard,” Ginny said.

“He died in a car accident,” Mary said. “A stupid thing. It was in October 1998. He had been given a lift to ... well, anyway ... it was a stupid thing. He didn’t suffer though, and that is a mercy.”

“We were sorry to hear of it,” Ginny said.

“Did you know that Vicky chose to be buried with him?” Mary said. “She asked me if ... she asked me if that would be alright. What could I say? Vicky had been with him for over fifty years. Of course, I agreed to her request.”

Ginny looked at Gabriel. She could see that he was shocked. She was herself.

“I suppose you are wondering why I didn’t register here under my married name,” Mary said.

“I had wondered that,” Ginny said. “Maybe if you had been registered under your married name, I would have spotted your name on the client roster.”

“Well, the funny thing is ... I can’t remember now why I did,” said Mary. “And before you think, ‘oh no, it’s the dementia’, let me tell you that I chose this room because of the view. Back in 2005, which is when I moved into this care home, this room wasn’t in the dementia unit. They didn’t have a dementia unit back then. I picked the room because of its view over the gardens. I get beautiful colours; all the way through from the spring right into the autumn. John and I always loved a garden. It was a joy that we shared. Then they decided to have a dementia unit. They asked me to change rooms, but I decided to stay in here. I am happy and settled in here.”

“Gabriel here ... he can’t really remember meeting you,” Ginny said. “We think it is because of the time anomalies that were generated when we went back to see you.”

“John talked about that. He feared that such a thing would happen,” Mary said. “But Gabriel ... please know that I remember you very well. John and I said that you both looked such a lovely couple.”

Gabriel smiled.

“Is it alright if I speak now?” a young male voice said.

“Of course,” Mary said. “Please do.”

“My name is Arthur,” the voice said. “I am very pleased to meet you. I am Mary’s companion.”

“And you have been ever since my good friends here gave you to me,” Mary said. “And, by the way, do you still have your ...?”

“As ever,” Vicky said. “I am pleased to see you again, Mary.”

“Vicky?” Mary said. “Would you be able to do me a great favour?”

“Anything,” Vicky said.

“Your memories ... your memories of John and myself. Would you be able to ...?”

“Could I send them to Arthur, do you mean?” said Vicky. “So that you could view them again?”

“Yes, I would very much like ...” Mary said. “John used to play me memories ... of when we were younger. They were stored on the old Vicky, you know. I never thought to transfer them to Arthur, and then after John died ... and Vicky was buried with him ... it was too late then.”

Ginny felt her eyes prickling.

“I have some memories,” said Vicky, “such as this one.”

The room became a grassy meadow. Ginny and Gabriel could feel the sun warming them. The meadow was alive with the sound of small insects and birds.

A couple in their early thirties were lying face down along-side each other on the soft grass.

The woman had tied up her hair with a red and white polka-dot scarf. She had plucked a daisy and was stroking its petals along her own cheek.

Another man, a friend, walked up towards them, a camera in his hand. He stooped and took a photograph of them. Then he wandered away.

The man lying on the grass watched his friend go, then he turned to the girl and took hold of her hand. With a look of mock seriousness, he nuzzled his face against hers.

He whispered something to her. She smiled and said something in return.

“Could you please show that bit again, Vicky?” Mary said. “And please make it a little louder. My hearing isn’t what it was.”

The scene re-wound slightly, and they zoomed in closer to the couple lying on the grass.

The man nuzzled his face against the woman next to him. He said, “Mary, would you do me the great honour of ... would you ... would you marry me, Mary?”

The woman turned to face him. She put her mouth close to his ear. She whispered, “Yes John ... of course.”

Gabriel looked across at Ginny. She was crying.

The meadow scene dissolved. They were standing in Mary’s room once more.

“I will transfer my memories across to Arthur, Mary,” Vicky said. “They will be yours to view as you wish.”

“I don’t know how ... I don’t know how I could ever ...,” Mary said.

“I have them now,” said Arthur.

“Mary?” Ginny said. “Did you know that John left two ...?”

“Oh, the packages,” said Mary. “Yes, John wanted to say thank you, and he didn’t expect to see you again. Or, at least, if he did see you, he didn’t expect that you would remember each other.”

“Time anomaly,” said Vicky. “That is why Gabriel can’t remember meeting you or John. He wouldn’t have been able to remember Ginny if I hadn’t ...”

Ginny turned to Gabriel and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you again, Vicky,” Ginny said. “Don’t know what I’d have done without this big lunk-head.”

Gabriel smiled back at Ginny, a cheeky grin on his face.

Mary smiled at them; the indulgent smile of very old women for the young people that they love.

“Yes, John wanted to say thank you,” she said. “Just some old book each and a bit of money put into some account or other. He hoped it would maybe help you out, if ...”

“It’s been a really big help,” said Gabriel. “If only you knew ...”

He stopped. Ginny was looking at him. That ‘say no more’ type of look.

“It was very nice of John,” he concluded lamely.

“I wish I could remember what he wrote to you,” Mary said. “You don’t remember, do you?”

Gabriel pulled out his wallet. It was an old leather one. Lots of little pockets in the front, and with a long pocket running down its entire length when it was opened up fully. From the long pocket he carefully took out a slip of paper; the one that had been inserted into his copy of the Journal of Intergalactic Mining / Transhipment.

He read it out aloud.

Dear Gabriel

You probably don’t remember me now. When you came back to give Mary a STU, your friend, Ginny ... she was wearing Vicky.

I obviously still had my own Vicky.

That’s time anomalies for you.

While you were with me, I asked Ginny if she would let her Vicky send me some of her memories; the ones from when you and Ginny met me in the care home.

I have watched those memories many times.

It is ironic, I know, since you almost certainly won’t remember me, and yet I feel that you are my very good friend.

You and Ginny went through a lot, the both of you, all to bring back a STU for Mary.

Whether that was wise or not, I could not really say.

Gabriel stopped reading. His voice was faltering He looked at Ginny, who took the paper from him.

Ginny continued reading from John’s letter.

All I know is that I am grateful ... grateful beyond belief. And so, I ask you, as my dear good friend, can you please accept these small gifts.

From your very good friend

John Cullen

Gabriel turned to Ginny, who wrapped her arms around him.

He sobbed quietly.

Ginny looked over at Mary Sands. Mary was sitting quietly, sitting calmly, sitting in her straight-backed chair which looked out into the rear gardens of the Sunny Vale Care Home.

She was smiling gently at hearing these words ... words written fifty years ago. Written by her husband, John ... her dear and close companion, who had been dead all these years.

THE END