Tommy was already halfway out the door, football at his feet, when a piercing ring from the hallway phone stopped him in his tracks. He didnt want to go back, not with his mates waiting below in the courtyard, but the phone kept up its shrill insistence. Minutes earlier, hed dropped his football, fully focused on the decisive match that was about to take place behind the block of flats. Tommy lingered in the doorway, silently willing the phone to stop. No such luckit only grew louder and more persistent.
Oh, for heavens sake, who could that be? he grumbled, sighing heavily as he dashed back inside, shoes still on.
He grabbed the receiver, bracing for a command from his mum or, worse, a grilling from granquestions about whether hed eaten after school, washed his hands, or sorted out homework: things adults appeared to find endlessly important.
Hello? he muttered, sounding clearly put out.
Hello! Tommy? came the voice of a man he didnt recognise.
Theres no one in, Tommy shot back, ready to hang upno doubt another of Dads calls, or perhaps Mums. But the caller persisted.
Tommy, just hear me out, please. Dont hang up. This is really important. There was a hurried quiet, then he spoke on. Youll never believe this, but I beg youlisten. Grab a pen right now, and take down everything Im about to say. I havent much time. Imwell, Im you. From the future. Sounds mad, I know, but pleasejust jot this down, its very important. Do you have a pen and paper?
Tommy prided himself on his mannersthats largely what kept him from slamming the phone down. That, and his grandmothers oft-repeated view that its best not to argue with fools; let them yap on, then go about your own way anyway. This bloke was surely barmy, or maybe trying a prank. He and his mates would sometimes dial up strangers pretending to need help bathing a baby elephant or some such nonsense. It was usually a laugh. Perhaps this was payback.
Ive got it, Tommy replied gravely. And in the future, do I get one of thosewhat, a psychic phone or something?
The voice stumbled. No time for games, Tommy. Listenif you do what I say and jot it all down, youll have an iPhone and plenty more.
Alright, alright, Im writing, Tommy answered, absent-mindedly digging at his nose as he stared longingly out the window, knowing his mates would soon run off without him if he didnt hurry. No use arguingbest to play along and see where this joke ended up.
The man began rattling off dates and years, warnings to avoid a certain Lucy from the neighbouring school class, and an absolute ban on going anywhere near a thing called GBB Investments. Then instructions to buy, then sell, then buy American dollars, advice about Black Wednesday, about fruit machines, casinos, something called bitcoin, loads of odd words that Tommy barely caught…
Got all that? the man asked.
All written down.
Im counting on you. Keep that piece of paper safelike a treasure map. Dont show anyone, dont lose it, said the stranger, a note of hope in his voice, before the line suddenly went dead.
Tommy placed the receiver back on its cradle and thundered outside. That evening, when his parents returned from work, he remembered the phone call and told them about the strange man who claimed to be Tommy from the future.
Never talk to strangers on the phone, Tommy, Dad warned, Especially not ones who go on about buying dollars. If it happens again, say youll ring the police and set the receiver down.
Quite right, Mum agreed. Honestly, who even wants dollars? What would you do with them anyway?
***
Time drifted by, and soon enough Tommy forgot the whole thing. Childhoods concernsschool runs, Saturday footballquickly overtook any talk of Black Wednesdays and bitcoins. Years of carefree days and gentle learning passed. In Year 8, a new girl transferred to their school; a girl called Grace, who immediately caught Tommys eye. Though she was in another form, nothing stood in the way of Tommy making friends. Shy notes and occasional walks home soon blossomed into something more.
After his time in the army, Tommy came home and he and Grace were wed. The 90s roared in, the promise of plenty giving way to disappointment, like the hangover after too many sweet drinks at a wedding. They barely kept afloat amid one crisis after another. Advertisements promised he could spoil his wife, but there were weeks when they couldnt afford even the most basic things. The flats mortgage payments were an ever-tightening noose
***
One dreary afternoon, Tommy found himself on a park bench, pulling a bottle of ale from a plastic bag and sipping carefully. He fished out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, his gaze wandering lazily over the passers-by. He hardly noticed the elderly gent who lowered himself beside him, spectacles perched on his nose and a battered leather briefcase at his side.
May I join you? he asked politely, already settling in.
Tommy nodded, barely glancing his way, and took another swig from his bottle.
Bit bleak today, isnt it? the old man observed quietly, as much to himself as to Tommy.
As is life itself, Tommy muttered back.
Funny thing, if you think about it, the man said, turning slightly. Its only as you grow older that the days start to go grey. Childhood, thoughits all sunshine. Spring full of boats sailing along the gutters, summer smelling of fresh grass and river breezes, autumn painting everything gold, winter crunching underfoot. Not a memory of a grey day.
In childhood, there are no worries, Tommy said wisely. Its the worries that drain all the colour out. Did I ever think, as a boy, that life would turn out like this?
Without realising quite how, Tommy began to tell the old man with glasses everythinghis hopes turned disappointments, the misfortunes that seemed to dog his every step. Scam investments, fruit machines mushrooming on every high streetwherever you put your money, you only ended up poorer. Promises of instant happiness devolved into years of debt. His wife had eventually left him with nothing and run off with another man to Brighton. Now he survived on odd jobs, living from one payday to the next.
But Ive got a new plan now, Tommy finished, with a wry grin. Found a Millionaire Mindset course online. This chap reckons crypto is the wayguaranteed 500% weekly returns. I must have just been doing things wrong before.
The old man tilted his glasses and asked quietly, And what do you do for a living, if you dont mind me asking?
Work is for mugs, Tommy answered, taking another drink. Gotta make money work for you. If only Id known all this back thenwould have changed everything.
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in thoughtTommy dreaming of unimaginable crypto wealth, the old man mulling over something private.
So, let me get this straight, the man finally said, you believe if you knew everything in advance, life would sort itself out?
Tommy nodded. Of course.
You interest me, the man admitted. Let me tell you about my invention. With that, he fumbled in his case and produced a proper old-fashioned rotary phone. You see, theres this theory, he said, that time isnt linear, nor cyclical. Everything happens at once.
I dont follow, Tommy admitted.
Ill try to explain, the man said, removing his glasses and rubbing his brow. Theres no past, no future. Its all just now. So, you existright nowat every stage of your life. Past, present, future all at once.
Im still lost, Tommy said, shaking his head.
No matter, the man replied. Anyway, this phone can call back forty years, straight to your past self. Ive tried it. The settings arent perfect yet, but the call always goes back exactly forty years. I didnt say muchjust checked the year, gave myself quite a shock, I expect. The man seemed to lose himself for a moment, then added, Odd thing is, I dont remember that happening as a youngster. Makes you wonder if things can change or if the present just resets along with the past.
Naturally, Tommy thought the fellow was off his rocker. But then again, he mused, why not? People online claimed stranger things, and they seemed to do well enough. Maybe theyd found some secret, and only charged others to share it, logically enough. Those who grumbled were just miserable, unwilling to try. Tommy fancied he was different.
Lets give it a go, then! he said with sudden enthusiasm.
Do you remember your old number? the man asked. And you need to be home forty years ago at this time to answer.
Tommy still remembered the old home numberstill as clear as childhood. Looking at the time, he reckoned that all those years ago, hed just be back from school, same as usual. He lifted the heavy old phone and dialled the digits, heart thudding weirdly in his chest.
Youve only got a couple of minutes, warned the old inventor. Burns through the batteries like nothing else. And whatever happens, the outcomes on you.
Ill manage, said Tommy, dialling. The phone trilled and trilled. Come on, lets see if this works. If it does, we can set everything right.
Just when Tommy had almost given upconvinced this was nothing but nonsense, destined to fail as so much elsea young, grumpy voice picked up.
Hello? the boy at the other end muttered.
Hello! Tommy? Despite himself, Tommys palms sweated.
My parents arent at home, came his own childhood reply, sounding cautious. He just had to act quickly.
Tommy, listen. Dont put the phone down. This is very important. For a moment, Tommy hesitated, not sure what to say. You wont believe me, but pleasejust listen. Get a pen and write down what I tell you. Im you, from the future. I know it sounds mad, but trust me, its really important. Have you got pen and paper?
Got them, answered young Tommy. In the future, have I got my own telepathy machine?
None of that, Tommy snapped, before remembering he was speaking to himselfa child, at that. No jokes! Do as I say, and youll have an iPhoneand plenty else.
Fine. Go ahead, Im ready.
Tommy rattled off all he could rememberhow, after coming back from the Army in 93, hed landed a decent job only to fritter the lot away on nights out with Grace. ListenTommy! Stay clear of Grace! Shell lead you nowhere good. Take my advice, and youll have fifty Graces if you like. Whenever you get paid, stick it all in dollars.
He told him about Black Wednesday in September 92when to sell and buy his dollars againwarned him to keep clear of fruit machines and betting shops; better off investing with friends as a group. Shun dodgy pyramid schemes. Buy property while it was cheap and, in 2009, put a bit of money into this thing called bitcoin. Everything he could recall in those breathless minutes, he poured out, feeling like he was cramming a lifetimes worth of advice into two minutes.
Did you get all that down? Tommy asked young himself.
All of it, came the reply.
Guard that sheet like its buried treasure. Dont show anyonedont lose it, whatever you do! Tommy wanted to say more, but suddenly, the line went dead.
***
Of course, young Tommy hadnt written any of it down. Hed waited until the daft bloke finished his nonsense, then replaced the receiver and ran out into the sun-filled yard. If this was a wind-up, he thought, it wasnt a particularly good one.
Better mention it to Mum and Dad later, just in case, Tommy thought to himself, bounding onto the football pitch, the sunlight glinting off the goalposts, the laughter of his mates carrying on the breeze.
