A PAGE IN TIME

It was midday, though you would not know it as Carly ventured out complete with her mask on, to purchase stamps and post a card. Yes, it was the era where social media and email allowed fancy cards to be sent via that source, but Carly knew her little niece would get a kick out of receiving a printed card for her birthday; hopefully before or on the day not after the event, instead of getting the card via her parents’ social media page.  The job done, she walked a little farther wishing she could take the mask off and breathe some air, even if it were not a country or sea breeze, but alas she had to bow to the powers who stated they had her best health interests at heart.

“Thrills!” thought Carly; it was not a grand life prior to ‘the plague’, but it was her life, and she wanted what was familiar back, and soon.

Quite suddenly, she heard an explosion, felt the earth underneath her move, and was thrown unceremoniously to the ground. She was shocked more than injured. There were sirens blaring, crowds forming from all directions, and the acrid smell of smoke met her nostrils. She stared, aghast. The Post Office where she had been was ablaze, the post box in front of the shop destroyed. ‘Oh well,’ she thought ‘I might have to buy another card for Jade,’  

Then she realized; part of the crowd was protesters some chanting “We Shall Not Be Moved”

A likely story; it was a well-known fact that protesters were the bane of the police force’s life, and in this instance, the fools, like the others close by were being moved to safety.

 Carly tried to get up but had difficulty. She heard a British accented male voice from behind speak gently.

Need a hand Ma’am?” she looked up. He was tall, with ginger hair and blue eyes “or would two be better?” he asked. What an impish smile. Effortlessly, he got her to her feet. He too was in uniform but she could not identify it.

“How would you like to come to my office. I can only offer tea or coffee but I can say you are a client and I am indeed an essential worker.” Carly could not tell whether there was more tongue than cheek in that remark but she smiled, nonetheless.

“I’m Mark by the way,” the stranger said, as he indicated they were going straight ahead.

“I am Carly Jones,” she said

“What do you do Carly?” Mark asked

“Nothing at present, the job went early on: I’m a hairdresser. So, what do you do Mark?”

 “Some would say I’m a teacher of the law,” answered Mark.

“How does that make you an essential worker?” queried Carly

He put a finger to his lips, as though to silence her, opened the door of a rather imposing building, and ushered her into an office. Carly marvelled at the neatness; perhaps the occupant was bordering on OCD, but hey she was not complaining, there was no way she could achieve this look but…

“Tea or coffee?” asked Mark

“Either I take them both black,” said Carly

“In which of these do you have sugar?”

Neither…” replied Carly.

“My dear, you still look pale, you have had a shock: in which of the two beverages can you take sugar, to counteract the shock?” he looked at her, eyebrows arched and just a hint of impatience.

“Coffee please Mark.” she sounded like a child responding to correction.

He sat opposite her at the desk, each had a steaming mug of coffee, however just as the conversation was to start the telephone rang. Mark picked the receiver up and responded accordingly.

“Mark Fisher speaking.” silence

“Ah yes Matthew.” more silence “Great, chat soon, bye for now.” The receiver back on the cradle, Mark smiled.

“My accountant with some good news.” he sipped; Carly smiled as she thought “Lucky old you, I’d like my job back.” Mark watched her expression carefully.

“Carly, in my profession I know how to keep secrets. I sense you are troubled, and I suspect it is more than ‘the plague.’”

“Just today…” Carly began “and … other things.”

Mark smiled “Shall we turn the TV on it’s time for the news?”

“And news just at hand. Residents of the notorious western suburbs were in for a surprise today. There were protesters, as was expected but what was not expected was that the post box outside the Post Office, blowing up.  The police were close by and confirmed there were no casualties and may have caught the culprit red-handed. He will of course be assisting the police with their enquiries.”

Mark turned the power off, looked at Carly suggesting that they have a grand tour of the building when she finished her coffee. When they left the office, they turned right into a corridor with closed doors on either side.

“I often find, when things overwhelm me, a look through the doors in this corridor puts things into perspective,” said Mark again, carefully watching Carly.

The corridor was bright, their footsteps could be heard on the polished wooden floor. Mark invited Carly to open the first door. She looked inside, then back at him, finally saying:

“Is this for real?”

“Look again.”

It was a scene from sixteenth-century Britain, as Mary Queen of Scots mounted a scaffold, her lips moving as she recited a prayer; however, before the next part of the scene played out Mark closed the door. He suggested Carly open the door opposite.

She did as bid, recognising from her reading who the “boss” lady was. There were bandages everywhere, someone scrubbing floors, someone else standing by a bed wiping a patient’s brow, another patient crying out in pain.

“That looks like a picture I once saw of Florence Nightingale,” said Carly

“Quite right,” said Mark “that’s exactly who it is, and what she did for the world was beautiful,"

This door now.”

Carly opened the door. Chaos reigned. Fire, destruction, air raid sirens, casualties and little children with the gas masks and tiny suitcases being ushered into buses, some crying, most stunned. 

What’s in here? asked Carly walking towards another closed door.

Don’t open that one Carly” Mark cautioned; he was too late.

She saw hundreds of people walking carrying a suitcase each; guards hurrying them along. A familiar faced man standing in uniform barking orders in German. Mark closed the door.

“Was that Hi…?”

“Yes.” said Mark “try the door opposite; Carly if you were brave enough to see what was behind the closed door within this room, this will be a piece of cake.”

Carly smiled recognising a man known for his courage and his ability to lead a nation in wartime speaking to a school group. His strong rough voice saying

“Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never—in nothing, great or small, large or petty—never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense.”

“Winston Churchill.” said Carly “he was a great man.”

Mark said nothing but opened another door smiling.

Carly gasped for she could see a younger Carly sitting beside a frightened child who, like herself, had witnessed a road accident one morning.  He was on his way to school; she had been going to work.  She ran to the little boy and took him in her arms.  She remembered him asking tearfully “What if that had been my Mummy?” The sobs stopped when his mother, in response to Carly’s phone call arrived to take him home.

“You were good to him, were you not?” asked Mark

“I felt so helpless,” said Carly

“Yet you reached out to him,” said Mark, pointing as he spoke to another door “let’s sit down in here, Carly.”

He let her look round, knowing she did not understand. He spoke kindly.

“We are experiencing troubling times my dear.” said Mark “it would be so easy to give up or give in. We could as the protestors and the perpetrator of destruction at the Post Office do and attract attention to ourselves because we think we have something important to say. We could bow to the pressure of those who think they are God and must be obeyed, even if the law is an ass. This ‘plague’ too will pass. With every bad person that destroys what was good, there is another who seeks to show good. Mary Queens of Scots was a threat to England, lack of nursing and good hygiene was a threat to mankind. Germany was a threat to world peace Churchill gave the British people the encouragement to go through hell and come out smiling. You helped that little boy and you will help others because you seek to do good, not evil.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s my job to suss that out, think back on your lack of fear in opening that door. Despite my warning you, your courage took over, just as it did with the little boy.”

He let his words sink in, seeing for the first time that Carly was calmer.

“So, what do you do for a living?” asked Carly “I’m curious, that’s all.”

Mark took the scarf around his neck off revealing a shirt collar that made sense of the unusual uniform.

“Here’s my card if you need me, though there are eleven others who work with me equally well qualified.” Mark smiled “Just remember: Never Give In, Sir Winston was right. Nice meeting you Carly. Stay here as long as you want to.”

He walked through the door leaving her to think. It suddenly fell into place for Carly. She felt at peace knowing that she could weather the storm. What was that verse Grandma used to quote? Carly smiled at the memory.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” John14:27

Things could only get better.