Free Tollesbury Time Forever by Stuart Ayris, Kath Middleton, Rebecca Ayris

know.”
    I resolved at that moment to conceal as much of what was ‘on my mind’ as I could. It was clear I had been watched, for they knew all my movements. Had Zachariah been spying on me too? Was he in league with them?
    “We are going to ask you some questions, Mr Anthony. Please answer them as best you can. We know this is a difficult time for you but please do be honest with us. In that way, we can help you,” said Weepy, trying to sound as soothing as he could. “Now, do you know where you are Mr Anthony?”
    “In a house in Tollesbury,” I replied with as much confidence as I could.
    “And what year are we in?”
    “I have been told it’s 1836.”
    “I see,” said Nardy. “And who told you that?”
    I shrugged my shoulders. For two people that purported to know so much, they were asking me a lot of questions. It was I who was lacking information, I who wanted to try and understand what was happening to me.
    “What did you mean when you said you had reports, you know, earlier? Who were the reports from? Why are you spying on me?” I asked all these questions whilst trying to sound as casual as I was able.
    “Reports is all,” replied Weepy crisply. “Just reports.”
    Nardy leaned across to his companion and whispered something into his ear. Weepy nodded before continuing.
    “What do you think of our ale?” he asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “You have had some of the local ale. What did you make of it? Did it agree with you?”
    “It wasn’t bad,” I replied hesitantly. “Not what I’m used to, but I could get used to it I suppose. I didn’t feel as bad after I’d had it as I thought I would.”
    “Good, good,” said Weepy, glancing furtively at Nardy, before returning his gaze to me. “Very good indeed, Mr Anthony. That’s the spirit! And you got a little jab from Penny’s young boy I understand. What was that all about do you think?”
    I had almost forgotten about that. “It was a bit of a shock I suppose. Didn’t hurt too much. He just did it and ran off down towards the harbour.”
    “Any lasting effects?”
    “Not that I know of. Why?”
    “No matter, Mr Anthony, no matter.”
    Weepy and Nardy conferred once more. This time it was Nardy who spoke.
    “Do you have any further questions for us, Mr Anthony, anything more before we bid you good day?”
    My mind was hazy. I was now even more confused than I was before I had met these two. And still no mention of Zachariah Leonard. Not for the first time, I was feeling drained and weary.
    “I just need to lie down, I think, and hopefully clear my head. I’m feeling tired most of the time even though I’m not really doing anything.”
    “Understandable, Mr Anthony, eminently understandably,” said Weepy, nodding vigorously.
    There was a silence that lasted some moments during which Weepy and Nardy just sat there with their eyes closed. It seemed as if they were making a concerted effort to inspect my thoughts, to enter my mind. I in turn stared back at them in an attempt to repel their unwanted intrusion into the last part of my being that I could truly call my own. I thought of getting up and leaving but I felt compelled to stay.
    I peered into the dark corners of the room, trying to discern what may lie there as yet unseen, watching me, listening to this whole bizarre conversation. For a moment, I felt I sensed movement but as soon as the feeling caught me, so it subsided. I wanted so much to have my back flat against one of the walls so that I might at least know I was not at risk of being leapt upon from behind. My throat was dry and my breathing audible amidst the quiet of it all.
    Weepy and Nardy stood up and I guessed I was to do the same. They took it in turns to shake my hand. Their palms were soft and sweaty, like dough that had been kneaded too much. It was as I stood that I noticed two faces pressed against the glass of the window that faced out onto East Street. It was Penny Shoraton and the boy with the cracked