A DOUBLE LIFE

In front of me was a room full of small children. They were running, jumping, squealing and crying and they terrified me. I clung to my mother’s hand and tried to hide behind her. One of the little boys detached from the group and came toward me with his hand held out.

“Will you come and play with me?” he said.

I took his hand and from that moment school didn’t scare me, because Rory was my friend, my helpmeet and my idol.

Everybody liked Rory because he was as nice as he was clever. His natural position was top of the class just as mine should have been bottom, and would have been, except Rory helped me to pass all the tests and exams that we faced over the next few years. His explanation of Algebra was clearer than the master’s and he spent hours with me making sure that I learned the French vocabulary I would need to get a B instead of an F.

Throughout our schooldays we were best of pals, but I knew that our paths would diverge when we left school. Rory would go to university, probably Oxford.  I had no clue what I would do, I had no special talent or interest. Thanks to Rory I had decent A level results but the one thing I knew I didn’t want to do was go to university.

Once again Rory took charge of my life, “You should join the Army,” he said, “You are good at following orders and the Army will find any special talents you might have and will teach you a trade.”

As our last adventure together, we decided to go to London for a fun, few days. We planned to visit the theatres and pubs and who knows we might even lose our virginity in the wicked city!

The trip started well enough, we were seated opposite each other on the train and the other two seats were occupied by two rather attractive girls who looked to be a bit older (more experienced?) than us. Rory was good at chatting up girls and was obviously making some headway with the prettiest girl. The train was making good speed and the green landscape was flashing past the windows mostly ignored by us, when suddenly the world went crazy! Everyone was screaming, I was upside down, one of the girls was lying across my face, there were flames and a dreadful smell, then I passed out!

I woke up in hospital and that was where I learned that I had been one of eighty odd victims of the Fieldsend rail crash which was the subject of numerous inquests and official enquiries over the next few years. No one was ever able to decide whether the blame for the crash was with the drunken car driver who had driven through the barrier onto the track or whether the signalman was to blame because he had not acted quickly enough, due to the fact he was arguing with his wife on the phone.

The one thing every newsman was agreed on was that the hero of the crash was Rory, who had ‘kept his head when all around were losing theirs’, had bodily carried several injured people (including me,) out of the devastation, and had used his tee shirt to staunch the bleeding from the head of one of the passengers. There was a famous photo of him in all the papers showing him a bit bloodstained, manly chest minus the tee shirt but looking like every mother’s favourite son.

That photo was to be syndicated around the world and would eventually have a great effect on Rory’s future.

I suffered no long-term effects from the crash and duly joined the Army. The life suited me well and the Army trained me in digital electronics, so six years after my enlistment I left the Army with a trade that the world was hungry for. In the meantime, Rory had attended Oxford University and left with a master’s in PPE and a job in one of the largest most famous banking companies. For a few years we moved in different circles, Rory had become interested in politics and when he stood as Socialist candidate in a solid Tory seat the photo was resurrected and combined with the story of his heroism, he won the seat and became the man to watch. The Prime Minister of tomorrow!

I designed and manufactured a revolutionary new type of computer and almost overnight it became the gadget that everyone wanted. I developed a massive worldwide organisation to market it and because I was the employer of over a million people, I wielded great power, consequently I attracted the attention of the socialists who hated me and all I stood for.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to Rory for many years, but I still thought of him as my best friend, my brother almost. I tried to telephone him to invite him to have dinner with me, but I had to leave a message with one of his undersecretaries. Eventually he phoned back, and we finally met after over twenty years. We were different people now, I no longer idolised this handsome and charismatic man, I disagreed with his politics and was amused at his Socialist way of life that talked of equality whilst hiding from the hoi polloi behind numerous secretaries.

I could see that he was still ambitious, he disapproved of my life and my business. He seemed to think that my employees were my slaves labouring away at menial jobs for minimal recompense. The reality was that most of my staff were highly educated and committed technicians earning high salaries.

Because of his background in banking, he had his eyes fixed on the Treasury and had every expectation of one day being Chancellor. Then he planned to tax big business into bankruptcy and nationalization would be the logical next step.

I didn’t even know this person, we had nothing in common now. We shook hands and parted.

I never saw Rory again.

After the crash there was a famous photo of Rory in all the papers showing him a bit bloodstained, manly chest minus the tee shirt but looking like every mother’s favourite son.

That photo was to be syndicated around the world and would eventually have a great effect on Rory’s future.

I suffered no long-term effects from the crash and duly joined the Army. The life suited me well and I travelled widely with the Army for six years. My trade was digital electronics at a time when the dot com revolution was just beginning.

By the time I left the Army I had seen some dreadful things. Ordinary people the world over were being exploited in the most shameful manner. Children were dying for the want of the most basic necessities. The unfairness of the world made me want to weep and I left the Army determined to make some difference to the lives of some of these disadvantaged people. I used my technical knowledge to fight for Human Rights. I became an ‘Influencer’. My blog was seen by millions worldwide and I am proud of some of the changes I caused or helped happen.

In the meantime, it seems that a model agent had seen the famous photo of Rory and had contacted him. The offer was so tempting that he abandoned the university place and instead appeared in a very famous advert for a fizzy drink. As a result, he was voted the sexiest man in the world. There was talk of him being the next James Bond but his commitment to two other blockbuster movies prevented him from signing the Bond contract.

He married Vanessa Grandana, the movie star, in Venice, in a ceremony that was filmed and became the most watched video on YouTube, so far this century. Unfortunately, the marriage ended two years later, in a courtroom fight that cost both participants several million dollars each. We shall never know who tried to strangle who, as the divorce was finally settled out of court.

Rory was then reported to have bought a fifty-two roomed mansion in the Cotswolds and I tried to contact him. Eventually I was able to convince his minder that I was indeed an old friend, and I really didn’t want to ask him for money, and I visited him in his mansion.

The Rory I used to know, no longer existed. In his place was a marionette. A beautiful doll-like creature, with slightly shaky hands, immaculately groomed hair and I swear false eyelashes.

I didn’t even know this person, we had nothing in common now. We shook hands and parted.

I never saw Rory again.