I yawned as I walked into the clock shop. My first day of work had tired me out, but I’d found some really interesting information. As my Father used to say, little things can strike a gold mine. Dropping my bag by my bed, I watched Spring read yesterday’s paper. “Are you going out, Master Clive?” she asked once she noticed me.
“Yes. I’ll be back by around ten by the latest”
“Do you want me to get you something to eat for later?”
“I’ll eat while I’m out” I said, opening the flat door. “Bye Spring”
“Goodbye, Master Clive”
As I walked up Midland Road, I sensed someone was shadowing me. I realised who it was before seeing them, despite it being almost six years since our last encounter. Jackson Samson. “Someone’s grown up, haven’t they?” he said softly. Too quiet for my liking. I remained silent.
“Someone not talking, eh?” he asked, still in his same quiet tone. I stayed silent until something made me squeal in pain. Jackson’s fist had gone straight into my chest, at such force I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a broken a rib or two. He then went for my jaw, and I knew it was time to fight back. I wasn’t someone who’d let them get away with this. Back when I was a child, I was too young to know what to do, but I knew what to do now. I forced my knee into somewhere I don’t really want to think, which ended in him doubling over, but he could still fight. He managed to trip me over, and as I hit the floor, I managed to trip him up, as he had just got back up to kick me. This ended in a grab the shirt was, a wild frenzy on the floor. It was so mad, that I didn’t know what he or I was doing. We ended up separating one another from each other’s grasp, and as soon as Jackson got up, he pointed at me, and hissed “Oh, Clive. You’re not gonna live much longer, and I’ll be the one who finishes it off for you”
“Yeah, right” I snorted. “Go get a life Jackson”
“Why you!” he said, before calming down, and walking away.
As I got up, sorted my clothes out and checked the scars for any possible infection, I carried on my journey, and entered the office. Dimitri was waiting by the door; I was half an hour later than I’d said I’d be. That was when he noticed a few scars on my cheeks, arms and legs. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t verbally ask what had happened. “I got in a fight” I said. “The other persons been bullying me since I became an orphan”
“Ah” Dimitri said. “Are you sure that you’re alright with those marks there, you look like you’ve broken something aswell”
“I think it’s my rib” I said. It was the only thing that actually still hurt, and it was throbbing with pain.
“Do you want me to take you to a doctor?” Dimitri asked.
“I’ll be fine” I said, sitting down in my chair. My ribs were still really painful, but I didn’t really care as of now. I’d suffered greater pain than this, grief. The death of my parents and Constance hurt, but one thing I’d learnt over the years was how to hide it from anyone watching me. One of the best things I’d ever learnt.
Dimitri sat in his chair next to me, still concerned over my health, but I did a fake smile to back it up. Dimitri thought it was real though, and just carried on with what he was doing. He then looked at me. “So, Clive. Did you find anything interesting at work today?”
I gave Dimitri the folder I managed to get. It was stuffed with useful information, on Bill Hawks, the explosion, everything we needed. As Dimitri scanned through the contents, he took some sheets out and left them until last, and he studied these ones very closely. I noticed these were mostly about Bill as a scientist, instead of the Prime Minister. Apart from his clothes, he didn’t look much different. There was pictures aswell as writing, and most was handwritten by a man names W.Blakely, whoever he was. He looked like a reporter of some sort, but not someone very close to Bill. Probably just a writer for a newspaper, and these were just clippings in it. Dimitri handed me a piece of paper then, and I smiled as I read it. The Prime Minister Bill Hawks is still fascinated by Time Travel, even after quitting his job as a scientist to climb the political ladder was the only sentence I needed to read to know what to do. “We should make a future London underground to trick Bill he’s gone into the future. Ten years should be enough”
“How can we get from the ‘future’ London and the London in the present?” Dimitri asked.
I thought, before the perfect place came into my head. “The clock shop on Midland Road!”
