about my business back in 2013? I’ve worked too hard to let that crumble. If I’m away from it for long how will everyone cope?’
‘Admirably, I expect,’ George says, watching the band. ‘They’ve had you to guide them for long enough. I’m sure you do them a disservice if you think they’ll run your business into the ground in a few weeks.’
‘A few weeks? So there is a chance I could return home again?’
‘It’s possible,’ George says, nodding, partly at me, partly in time to the music.
‘Only
possible
!’
‘It depends.’
‘On?’
‘Two pints and a Babycham,’ Harry says, arriving back beside us again. ‘Now what have you two been talking about while I’ve been gone?’
‘Not much,’ George says, his foot tapping in time to the music. ‘Bit difficult to have a decent conversation now the bands have started playing, isn’t it, Jo-Jo? Why don’t you pop in and see me at the shop tomorrow in your lunch break? Maybe I’ll have what you’re looking for then?’ He gives me a knowing look.
Is he kidding me? I need answers
now
. ‘Sure, George,’ I sigh, knowing I have little choice. ‘I’ll do that. I really hope you do have what I want, though.’
A way for me to get back home. And fast.
Five
This morning I asked Miss Fields if I could take an extra half-hour for lunch, promising that I’ll make it up tomorrow, and luckily she agreed. So right now I’m hurrying over to George’s shop as fast as I can in my extended lunch break.
Today as I’m travelling along the King’s Road I’m taking in everything and everyone as I walk along. It’s weird, when you see old photos or footage of people and places from the past, they’re either in black and white, or shot on old cine film where the colours are worn and faded over time. But actually being here like this, living and breathing the era, I can experience just how vividly real everything is. The colours, the designs, and especially the people; they may look odd to me with their unusual clothes and peculiar hairstyles, but they’re living, breathing human beings, simply going about their day-to-day business, just like I am this lunchtime on my way to see George.
Watching the bands last night had been quite good fun in the end, and I was really starting to enjoy some of their music by the end of the night. Harry and his friend Derek had walked Ellie and I to our bus stop after we left the pub, which I found very quaint, though very chivalrous of them, but I was secretly quite pleased when that’s as far as it went. So as we leapt up on to the back of the bright red London bus that was going to take us home, and held on to the conductor’s pole, I’d waved happily to Harry as the bus disappeared along the King’s Road. Much as I liked him, I had more important things to deal with right now than a blossoming romance between a version of myself and a Harry that I wasn’t really even sure existed.
This lunchtime as I arrive at George’s shop and push open the door, the little bell rings above my head, just as it always does.
‘Jo-Jo,’ George says, looking up from the counter where he’s browsing a music catalogue. ‘You managed to survive to see another day, then?’
‘Just,’ I say, flopping down on to the wooden chair where I sat yesterday. ‘It’s so hard keeping up this pretence, though. I keep sticking my foot in it by mentioning things that no one even knows about yet.’
‘Such as?’
‘Like when Ellie and I were getting ready for work this morning I asked if she had any hair straighteners I could borrow. When I explained what they were, she suggested I used the iron.’
George laughs.
‘And just now, before I came away from work, someone was moaning about a file that they’d lost in the office, so I asked them if they’d backed it up on a flash stick. They looked at me like I was some sort of pervert!’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ George says. ‘I’ve just put the kettle on.
‘Admirably, I expect,’ George says, watching the band. ‘They’ve had you to guide them for long enough. I’m sure you do them a disservice if you think they’ll run your business into the ground in a few weeks.’
‘A few weeks? So there is a chance I could return home again?’
‘It’s possible,’ George says, nodding, partly at me, partly in time to the music.
‘Only
possible
!’
‘It depends.’
‘On?’
‘Two pints and a Babycham,’ Harry says, arriving back beside us again. ‘Now what have you two been talking about while I’ve been gone?’
‘Not much,’ George says, his foot tapping in time to the music. ‘Bit difficult to have a decent conversation now the bands have started playing, isn’t it, Jo-Jo? Why don’t you pop in and see me at the shop tomorrow in your lunch break? Maybe I’ll have what you’re looking for then?’ He gives me a knowing look.
Is he kidding me? I need answers
now
. ‘Sure, George,’ I sigh, knowing I have little choice. ‘I’ll do that. I really hope you do have what I want, though.’
A way for me to get back home. And fast.
Five
This morning I asked Miss Fields if I could take an extra half-hour for lunch, promising that I’ll make it up tomorrow, and luckily she agreed. So right now I’m hurrying over to George’s shop as fast as I can in my extended lunch break.
Today as I’m travelling along the King’s Road I’m taking in everything and everyone as I walk along. It’s weird, when you see old photos or footage of people and places from the past, they’re either in black and white, or shot on old cine film where the colours are worn and faded over time. But actually being here like this, living and breathing the era, I can experience just how vividly real everything is. The colours, the designs, and especially the people; they may look odd to me with their unusual clothes and peculiar hairstyles, but they’re living, breathing human beings, simply going about their day-to-day business, just like I am this lunchtime on my way to see George.
Watching the bands last night had been quite good fun in the end, and I was really starting to enjoy some of their music by the end of the night. Harry and his friend Derek had walked Ellie and I to our bus stop after we left the pub, which I found very quaint, though very chivalrous of them, but I was secretly quite pleased when that’s as far as it went. So as we leapt up on to the back of the bright red London bus that was going to take us home, and held on to the conductor’s pole, I’d waved happily to Harry as the bus disappeared along the King’s Road. Much as I liked him, I had more important things to deal with right now than a blossoming romance between a version of myself and a Harry that I wasn’t really even sure existed.
This lunchtime as I arrive at George’s shop and push open the door, the little bell rings above my head, just as it always does.
‘Jo-Jo,’ George says, looking up from the counter where he’s browsing a music catalogue. ‘You managed to survive to see another day, then?’
‘Just,’ I say, flopping down on to the wooden chair where I sat yesterday. ‘It’s so hard keeping up this pretence, though. I keep sticking my foot in it by mentioning things that no one even knows about yet.’
‘Such as?’
‘Like when Ellie and I were getting ready for work this morning I asked if she had any hair straighteners I could borrow. When I explained what they were, she suggested I used the iron.’
George laughs.
‘And just now, before I came away from work, someone was moaning about a file that they’d lost in the office, so I asked them if they’d backed it up on a flash stick. They looked at me like I was some sort of pervert!’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ George says. ‘I’ve just put the kettle on.
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