In Time

By Bryan Roe

Join Roger on his adventures as he is being blasted back into the past. He meets many famous people, is imprisoned, and gets into other scrapes. He is helped through his ordeals by taking modern technology (his mobile phone) with him. He also meets girls along the way, although it could be the same girl throughout the ages.

His life is peppered with trips to the past and sometimes characters from the past end up in the present day, they become his friends. There are relationships, some tragedies but humans adapt. One chapter involves some of the author’s family and is a true account more tragic than any fiction could be. The reader will have to decide which chapter is being referred to.

Throughout the story there are fights, battles, mystery and the paranormal.

Finally, there is a glimpse of the future of cars and driving, not all of which is to Roger’s liking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jun 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398473904

Bryan Roe

Bryan was a professional baker until a stroke forced retirement.   His final post being Technical Manager for a cake manufacturing company involving writing detailed work instructions for his new recipes. Another aspect was writing a procedure manual for the company. Recovery was long, but fortunately his mind still active with ideas and vivid imagination. One day a local writing group was looking for members to write short stories. After a couple of years he felt the need to develop his characters and story lines, a manuscript was prepared and Austin Macauley publishers kindly agreed to publish his first novel.

Book preview

About the Author

Bryan was a professional baker until a stroke forced retirement. His final post being Technical Manager for a cake manufacturing company involving writing detailed work instructions for his new recipes. Another aspect was writing a procedure manual for the company.

Recovery was long, but fortunately his mind still active with ideas and vivid imagination. One day a local writing group was looking for members to write short stories. After a couple of years he felt the need to develop his characters and story lines, a manuscript was prepared and Austin Macauley publishers kindly agreed to publish his first novel.

Copyright Information ©

Bryan Roe 2023

The right of Bryan Roe to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398473898 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398473904 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

To my friend David, who inspired me to start writing stories.

To Anne (my wife) for when I became despondent about being able to write fiction she encouraged (i.e. nagged!) me to keep going.

To Dr Michael B Roe (my son) for his help with the reading of the manuscript.

Chapter 1

The Stars

The soft rumbling sound was getting louder until it turned into an almighty roar. The orange fireball got nearer until it filled the telescope lens. Roger turned away, ‘there’s no need for the telescope now, it’s very close.’

Grandad peered out of the window, ‘you’re right it is close, maybe it will land.’ There was no need for further talk.

Rrrrr… hrumph. BANG. The explosion blast sent Roger tumbling backwards and as if in slow motion he felt himself weightless flying through the air. He braced his body for the inevitable landing. It was an anticlimax, he fell into something soft and smelly. From his dazed state he tried to make sense of the situation. ‘I’ve landed on something soft,’ he exclaimed. ‘SHIT! literally, horse manure by the smell of it.’

Still dazed he put together in his mind the happenings of the evening. The Disney DVD children’s film of medieval fighting put on by Granny after his fourteenth birthday tea and then the trip to Granddad’s shed to look at a meteor shower through the telescope.

The last thought brought him up short. ‘Granddad? Where is he?’ Roger raised himself to his elbow and looked around. Eventually his eyes became accustomed to the darkness to make out the wreckage of the telescope by the side of a large hole in the ground. He was in the open with Granddad’s prone figure a few feet away on the ground. Roger rushed over and saw his face all blackened. Roger knew enough about first aid to feel him all over he seemed intact, Granddad attempted recovery. ‘Where am I? Are YOU alright?’

‘Yes, but that meteor has landed and closer than you said it might. I thought they were supposed to burn up in the atmosphere,’ mocked Roger.

They both looked around. Where the garden shed had been, a crater and a few yards away a substantial brick building looking like a barn. They realised they were lying near a pile of straw with a smell of horse manure, with an overpowering acrid smell of burning coming from the crater.

‘I wonder where all this fertiliser came from?’ murmured Granddad.

‘It’s getting cold, shall we go inside?’ Roger looked where the house should be, there were no lights visible. He pondered. ‘They’ve probably gone to bed. Some birthday treat this is. A boring tea for my fourteenth and then getting blown up and left to die, thank goodness for Granddad and his star gazing…’

‘Where’s my shed?’ Granddad asked becoming aware of his surroundings.

‘It’s blown up and everyone’s gone to bed, although you would think the explosion would have kept them awake to come to see what’s happened to us,’ queried Roger.

‘I can’t see the house; let’s go into this barn for cover.’ Granddad tried to take charge of the situation, although he didn’t know why a barn had suddenly appeared in his back garden, but he didn’t let on to Roger.

They made their way through the heavy wooden doors. It was warm inside with some rustling sounds and a snort. Roger edged his way gingerly forward until he bumped into something warm and hairy. He stopped transfixed. ‘It’s a horse!’ he cried.

‘Must be a stable, I didn’t know we had one in this part of the village.’ As Granddad spoke he yawned. ‘I’m tired now. Let’s sit and rest and try to fathom out what’s going on.’ He sat on the warm dry hay and soon nodded off. Roger followed suit a few minutes later.

Roger woke with a start; something was poking him in the chest. In the half light of dawn he looked up and could see a man standing over him.

‘Pray, sir, why are you hiding in my lord’s stable?’ The voice was deep and rough.

‘We’re not hiding, just sheltering, is it morning?’

‘Aye… On your way now, we don’t want vagabonds here.’

Roger eyed the man up and down; he had green tights and balloon like shorts over the top. His jacket was red velvet, tightly buttoned to his neck ending in a white lace collar.

‘What a strange guy,’ he thought. The stick he was being poked by looked like a sword… It was! The man put it away in a scabbard hanging from his leather belt.

An agitated Granddad stirred and questioned, ‘Roger, Roger. What’s up?’

‘Come on we have to leave, there’s a strange man telling us to leave his lord’s stable. I don’t like the look of him,’ As he spoke he fished out his mobile phone. ‘I’ll ring Mum.’

The phone lit up but no signal.

Chapter 2

A Refuge

The man hauled Roger to his feet and pushed him towards the door. He signalled Grandad to follow also collecting the horse and led it out.

‘This is very strange. Who is this person in fancy dress?’ observed Roger as Granddad staggered along by his side.

‘Don’t know son, maybe we’ll find out when we get to the big house over there,’ Grandad pointed ahead.

‘It looks like the one in the village, just in better condition. All I can see of the village is a few thatched cottages.’ Roger was taking in more of the scenery around him.

They drew near the brick mansion complete with two towers topped with pinnacles and mullioned windows, they approached across a bridge over a moat.

The man pushed them roughly around the side wing to a small door; he opened it and pushed them in. They stood in a dark hallway, where there were more men standing about in similar dress to their man but with a steel breast plate and helmet.

‘Master William… What have you got there?’ one asked.

‘Two vagabonds, who speak strangely and have got magic lights in their funny dress. I’m taking them to his lordship, they could be spies.’

‘Wait… I’ll get more guards.’ The man clanked off down the corridor, his sword dragging on the flagstones.

‘It’s like the Disney film those funny clothes. Do you think it’s one of those re-enactment days?’ whispered Roger to Granddad.

Granddad whispered back, ‘Could be, but it seems very real to me, we’ll just go along with it for now.’

The guard came back with two more.

‘Come,’ he beckoned.

They followed him into a great high hall, the sun streaming through the diamond leaded lights. The walls lined with carved wood panelling with a great fire in the huge fireplace. On a raised dais at the end of the hall a man sat in a large chair, dressed in a long blue velvet coat studded with jewels and gold thread; on his head a matching soft flat hat with a large feather sticking up. Our man and the guard approached him and bowed deeply.

‘May it please your lordship. I found these two hiding in the stable… I think they could be spies, because of the event on the morrow.’

‘Sirs… What have you to say for yourselves, from whence you came?’ the lord spoke with a deep rich voice.

‘From Bumpstead, m’lord.’ Granddad acted his part with a slight bow.

‘Do not jest, sir, this is a serious matter.’

‘I do not jest; we are from the village of Bumpstead.’ Granddad was categorical.

‘BUMPSTEAD?’ roared the lord.

Addressing the assembled crowd he shouted, ‘Who has seen these two in the village?’ they all responded with negative head shaking.

‘This is Bumpstead; you are not from here,’ the lord addressed Granddad, who replied.

‘It must be another Bumpstead, far, far away.’

‘Like Spain?’ the lord’s tone was conspirational.

Realisation was coming over Granddad.

‘Tell me m’lord, what year is this?’

‘The year of our Lord 1588.’

‘So has the Armada been yet?’

‘What’s this about an Armada?’

Before Granddad could answer a voice from the hall shouted, ‘I said they were spies.’ Master William piped up. ‘They use magic and witchcraft. They got here by coming out of a hole in the ground and the boy has a magic box with light to cast spells.’

‘Show me the box,’ the lord addressed Roger.

Roger looked puzzled.

‘It’s your mobile phone,’ Granddad whispered out of the side of his mouth. Roger felt in his pocket and withdrew his phone. The guards all stiffened.

‘Switch it on and show it to his lordship,’ Granddad instructed.

The screen lit up; Roger proffered it forward. The lord took it gingerly. He examined and fingered it, touching the buttons Suddenly there was a blinding flash. The lord jumped and dropped the phone. The crowd screamed. Roger reached forward and retrieved the phone from the folds of the lord’s coat. He realised a photo had been taken so he reviewed it; it was a picture of a startled lord. Quickly Roger leaned forward showing the photo to the lord.

‘Here, sir, an image of thyself.’ Roger was acting his part now.

Master William stepped forward aggressively. ‘It’s the devil’s work! Arrest this boy.’

An alarmed Granddad spoke and advised Roger. ‘You realise that was the first Selfie in the world, 400 years before anyone else. It’s a good idea to photograph everything here or nobody will believe us.’

Recovering his composure the lord continued, ‘How can that be a portrait of me? I see no paints and it takes weeks.’

‘It is an invention, and I can make pictures all the time instantly, look I’ll show you.’ Roger pointed the camera phone at the lord but before pressing the shutter he said.

‘Beware the flash…’ he paused and as an afterthought, ‘It’s not gunpowder or the devil.’

The flash went off; he turned to William and snapped again. Turning to face the crowd he took several more shots. The crowd were cowering. Only the guards stood firm.

Gasps of appreciation emanated from the lord and Master William as they viewed the images.

‘It truly is magic,’ turning to Granddad the lord continued, ‘Tell me now, sir, whence you came?’

‘We mean no harm and we really do come from another Bumpstead, but it has taken a long time to get here.’

‘In the light of your entertainment, no action will be taken if you give us your word no harm will befall us, BUT we will keep you here where we can keep an eye on you. Perhaps, you can delight our visitor on the morrow