With Time On His Hands

Christian wiped his hands on the rag and gave an almighty sigh of satisfaction.   He couldn’t wait to show Evie his beloved machine that he had just completed, finished, invented, created.  Yes!  All those things, like a child that springs from its father’s loins, his machine had sprung from first his imagination, and then from his mind. ……. And it worked, well, only in one direction, but it did work.  Let the scoffers scoff now.  Evie had never scoffed, enduring lonely evenings whilst he spent his time in the old warehouse working on his machine, she had never complained either.  She had known before they married how important his invention was to him, readily agreeing to keep his work secret, although at times he did wonder if she kept the secret because she was too embarrassed to tell anyone!  He could understand that, no one had believed him when he had tried to get funding for his project, he had had to go it alone.  Every spare penny he and Evie had made, he as a Design Engineer, and Evie as a Ward Sister, had gone into building his machine.   If he could, he would go back in time and, and, what?  Perhaps that is why the machine would only work one way, into the future, not the past.

After he had double checked that the small warehouse was securely locked up, Christian took the brisk one block walk to the tiny two up, two down terrace which was all that  he and Evie could afford…. at the moment.  Oh yes, that would change.  Evie would soon be able to live in any luxury dwelling she chose, she deserved no less.  His invention, once he had patented it, would change their lives forever.  Taking the stone steps up to the terrace two at a time he reached his front door.  Softly cussing as he fumbled with his keys, he eventually managed to unlock the door and as he entered he yelled excitedly, “Evie, it’s done, grab your coat and hat girl and come look see.”  The silence that answered him was disheartening.   He needed to share his moment of triumph with Evie, where on earth was she?  He knew she should be in, her shift didn’t begin for a good couple of hours, and she couldn’t  possibly be napping.  He made his way upstairs to check, not that he thought for one moment that she could sleep through the volume of yelling  he had just done!   He looked round the little terrace twice, just to be sure, Evie was definitely not home.

Feeling confused and deflated Christian put the kettle on for a coffee.  If he thought about it Evie had been acting a little strange just lately, a little short tempered, and although they hadn’t quarrelled she had taken to sighing, almost wistfully, from time to time.  ‘Poor girl,’ Christian thought, she had been so patient with him for so long,  perhaps her patience had begun to wear thin at his continuing absence.   Well, that was all in the past now, from this day on they would be together ‘twenty- four- seven’ if she so wished.  The kettle was boiling, watching it Christian gave a grin, of course, what an idiot, Evie had gone shopping!  Giving a small bark of a laugh he switched the kettle off, no instant cheap muck for his lovely Evie, not now, not ever again.  Grabbing his keys and checking his wallet for readies,  he left the house and headed for the Patisserie on the corner of his street, they did yummy cakes and a really decent coffee to go.   When Evie returned from her shopping trip, they would celebrate in style!

When he arrived at the Patisserie he studied the chalk board listing products and prices.  Giving a worried, “Hmmph,” he sat down at a nearby pavement table to once again check his finances.  It was the Kingfisher Blue flash of colour that first caught his eye and made him look up from his wallet, it was Evie’s favourite colour, and was the blouse of a woman seated inside the Patisserie, at the window.  Evie had a blouse just like that.  He took a second look and gasped.  It was Evie!   He half rose to go inside to join her, she had obviously saved a bit from housekeeping and decided to give herself a treat, well now they could both share the treat by way of celebration when he told her his news.  His backside thumped back down to the chair when he realised she wasn’t alone.  Sat opposite her was a young man who was a complete stranger to Christian.

Evie and the young stranger were holding hands across the table, and laughing into each other eyes.  Christian had never seen Evie laugh so freely, so joyfully, as she did holding hands with that young, handsome man.  His heart felt heavy, sluggish, breaking.  Then, as Christian watched in stunned disbelief, Evie half rose from her chair and pulled the young man towards her……..to Christian’s horror, she kissed him, on the lips, just a peck, but a peck with a promise, and in public.  The couple, for that is what they behaved like, a couple,  stood up and headed toward the pay desk, hand-in-hand.  Christian felt a shake of his arm and looked toward its source, “Sir, please sir, are you OK?”  It was a waitress talking to him.  The waitress nodded toward his hand.  Christian looked down, he had been grasping his keys so tightly that they had cut into his fingers,  blood was trickling down his hand toward his wrist.  Without answering Christian took to his heels, anxious to be away before his wife and her paramour left the Patisserie and saw him, the cuckold, the blind fool, the idiot.  Was that what they had been laughing at?  The ease with which they had been able to meet up behind his back.

Christian had reached his little house.  He stood in the street, the blood now dripping off his hand, and stared at the terrace he shared with the love of his life.  Shared?   Overtaken with feelings of self-pity and self-recrimination he realised that he was hardly ever there, just Evie, all alone, waiting for him to come home.   He lived mainly at the warehouse, with his confounded machine.  A plume of red hot anger shot through his very being.  He had been a fool, giving up all his spare time to work on a machine, neglecting what he had, what was important, what he now realised was all he had really needed in his life, Evie.  Still seething and blazing internally Christian turned on his heel and headed toward the warehouse….maybe, just maybe, if he got rid of the cause of Evie seeking out the love and company she so richly deserved, he might be able to win her back.

Once inside the warehouse Christian picked up a large gemmy, he would smash the machine to pieces.  He raised the gemmy above his head to strike the first blow and looked once more on the machine that had ruined his life.  It was beautiful.  Even in the dim light struggling through the warehouse’s grime encrusted window it glistened, polished and sleek.  Christian lowered his arm, he couldn't destroy it.  It was his life’s work.  He had poured more of his heart and soul into the machine than he had his marriage.  Large, hot, fat tears poured down his face unchecked as he realised he had made a choice.  But he couldn't live in the here and now with that choice.

He entered the machine and switched it on.  The soft buzzing as the machine came to life was comforting.  He looked at the timing dial and decided five hundred years would be time enough to leave this heart ache behind……..Everyone, everyone, would be well and truly passed by then, nothing, no one, left to fester the wound he would bear for a very long time, he could only hope that they had led a happy and fulfilled life.  Punching in the first ‘5’ and then a ‘0’ he made a determined stab at the last ‘0’.  The blood on his fingers was slick and slippery, his stabbing finger slid off the ‘0’ without engaging it and onto the ‘Activate’ button.  As the buzz increased to a high pitched whine and a luminescent blue light surrounded him, Christian screamed his anguish.  “No, No, Nooooo……..

No!”  Christian stepped away from the machine and headed for the door.  Part of him was relieved that it hadn't worked.  As he stepped to one side to drag the heavy door back on its runner he stumbled.  It was then that he noticed the strange smell.  Rusted iron smell, along with burnt timber.  He looked up, no roof.  Spinning around he stared at the once beautiful shining time machine.  Cobwebs hung between its heat twisted, fire charred remains.  The red rust stained carcass of his dreams proclaimed success and failure.  Shaking his head in horror Christian hauled open the door and almost bent double hurtled toward his home.  His home? His home?  After fifty years?  But he had to go somewhere.

It looked like his home, the front door was now painted a pretty blue instead of the serviceable black it had been, what, not one hour ago….for him.  With trepidation he walked up the stone steps, took his key from his pocket, and slid it into the lock.  The key worked, that must mean….well, he wasn't sure what that meant, but he gently pushed the door open and entered.  

The layout of the little terrace was unchanged, just the decoration, and even that seemed familiar somehow.  Feeling a little more daring Christian climbed the stairs to go to the bedroom he had once shared with Evie.   The room was gloomy and indistinguishable in the poor light due to the closed curtains.  Christian had already worked out that there was no one at home, he would have been challenged before now if there had been.  Curious to see what the current occupant had done with Evie and his very private quarters Christian crossed the room and drew the curtains full back with a noisy swish.    Turning round he was gratified that at least they had kept the bed in the same place, even if unmade!  He crossed the room to the bed, he would lie on it, just for a while, just until he had gathered his thoughts and decided what to do next, no one would be any the wiser, he couldn't possibly mess the lumpy bed up any more than it already was.  As he put his hand on the bed in readiness to getting onto it, the lump moved, and to Christian’s horror he found himself looking into the face of an elderly lady.  He was about to make a hurried apology and make his escape when the old woman spoke, “Oh Christian, it’s you dear……..my goodness, you’re the image of your Granddad with the light behind you!”

Looking hard into the woman’s face Christian gasped out, “Evie!”  The old woman frowned before smiling and wagging a gnarled arthriticy finger at him and said, “Young upstart, since when have I given you permission to use my first name, lacks respect.  Now, give your Gran a kiss and go make a pot of tea, there’s a good lad.”  Christian stood rooted to the spot, his legs felt like rubber and before they gave out he sat heavily on the side of the bed.  This brought an indignant “Oi!” from Evie.  She was frowning at him again, he had to say something, anything, he still didn't trust his legs to leave.  Without putting much thought into what he was saying Christian blurted out, “Ev…Gran, tell me about Granddad.”   “What, again?”  The old lady admonished,  “Yes, please, again, then I’ll make you that pot of tea, I promise.”  Christian gently replied. “With toast?” Old Evie barked back at him, “With toast,” Christian assured her.

Struggling into a more upright position Evie first gave a scowl and then sighed in capitulation.  “Suppose it’s the only way I’ll see that tea.” She moaned before asking, “Right then, what bit do you want to hear?”  Christian didn't have to think about this, and immediately answered, “What happened to him Gran?”   “You know what happened to him, why do you want me to go through that again for?  You know it hurts.” Evie barked at him, “Please Gran, just once more and then I’ll never ask again, promise.”  Christian pleaded.  Evie gave him an almost angry look out of the side of her eyes and said, “Making an awful lot of promises just lately, aren't you?”  “Please Gran.” Christian felt he could probably make a run for it now, his legs felt back under his control, but he had to know, had he managed to re-build the machine, sort out the problem of it's one way operation, and return to his proper time?  He must do, Evie in this time was talking to a grand child who looked like him!

Christian’s hopes were shattered by Evie’s next words, “As you know, you callous young pup, your Granddad died fifty years ago today."   Christian’s mouth trembled as he asked, “How?”  Not that it mattered, Evie’s grand child had been named after him, but wasn't his, he wondered if the handsome young man at the Patisserie had fathered a child with her, but not married her……Evie was talking so he collected his thoughts and listened.  “That confounded machine of his blew up, and your Granddad with it.  I waited and waited that day for him, to tell him, but he never came home again.  I’d just had a scan, my cousin was a male midwife and had managed to sneak me an appointment in, I should have gone straight home, not gone to celebrate with my cousin at that fancy cake place.  I was so happy, so very happy, a child would have taken your Granddad’s attention away from that crazy idea of his…..a time machine…..have you ever heard anything so absurd, what a waste of what little time we had together……”  As Evie’s voice became more raspy and slower as exhaustion pushed her into sleep, Christian quietly slid out of the room and left the house, wondering as he did so what he was going to do with so much time on his hands, he'd start by grieving his own death.