Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wear It Always and think of me...
It was with a cheerful heart* that I wandered out into the lunchtime Laverstone. I had with me the paperwork transferring the property into Harold’s name; I just had to instruct the solicitor to hold the paperwork in perpetuity, or at least until the time he mysteriously vanished, leaving the business to Harold’s partner, Gillian. Perhaps I should ask him about that while I’m there. Would that change the future, do you think, or because it’s in my past has it already happened and thus immutable?
I might look up Harold’s grandfather while I’m here.**
Isaacs’ office was closed, of course. He only opens out of office hours. It saves him the tedium of dealing with other solicitors, he says. I left the file, a note and five thousand quid in his mailbox. Returning to St. Marples, I called Devious and had the rest of the money – 45K – returned to the account and gave him and Tim the other three to fritter away on pilchards and tobacco.
There was just one task left before I returned to the present.
A quick jaunt to Allen’s Toys secured the purchase – a bargain ar five shillings – and I returned to St. Marples to present it to Tim.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s an American Football helmet,” I said. “Trust me, and wear it always.”
*Dried, in a velvet lined leather pouch, hung from the belt to ward off charity collecting tins.
**I won’t kill him, tempting though it might be,***
***Not that it’d make any difference. He’s been dead twenty years.