Missing Years ( Part 3)

While Ray slept, Tom began to read the whole Police file on Ray Edward Samuels, born 16th October 1954. Analyst at IBM. Married to Laura Edmonds in 1977. One child Stacey, born in 1979. Keen sportsman, played rugby and football at county level for Essex. Was training for the London Marathon and went running everyday. Last seen on Sunday March 7th 1982 by his wife Laura. He had woken her at around 05.30 and said he was going jogging. Never seen again. Last seen wearing Nike running vest, Nike shorts and New Balance running shoes.

Tom looked over at Rays shoes. He could clearly make out a motif on the side, NB in large bold blue letters!

Tom sat back in his chair. He wasn’t a man that got excited easily; he didn’t have any religious beliefs, no point, no proof. He had even given up believing in Father Christmas when he was five! He knew even then that it was impossible for a man to fly round the world giving out presents to everyone all in one night!

But something inside him was intrigued. This was either the biggest con trick the world has ever seen or the most amazing story in history. At the moment he couldn’t work out which one he thought more probable.

If it was a con trick, what would this young man gain by it? Insurance money perhaps? No way, not after all this time, the file would have been closed years ago. Besides, the only way it would work was if he came back as Ray Samuels a 53 year old man!

But he wasn’t a 53 year old man; he was Ray Samuels a 28 year old man. Who hadn’t aged in 25 years!

Tom decided not to mention all this to anyone else at the moment until he could make more sense of it.

Toms shift finished at 06.30am, Ray was still asleep.

“Morning Sarge, quiet night?”

It was Sergeant Keith Price who did the day shift.

“Yeh, nothing happened really. Doctor Steele brought this bloke in early this morning; idiot was out jogging and collapsed with the cold”

“Wanker!”

“That’s what Doctor Steele thought as well. I’m gonna drop him off on my way home ok?”

“Yep no probs sarge, see you tonight”

“If anyone from Romford Police calls for me can you take a message and then call me on the mobile?”

“Yeh will do sarge!”

Tom woke up Ray, “come on son, you’re coming with me.”

Ray got up and went with Tom to the car.

“Where we going, you taking me back to Romford?”

“Not yet Ray, not yet. Lets get you fed and watered, get your strength back and then we’ll see about getting you home. You’re coming home with me for a while”

“Ok”

Ray leaned back in the car seat and again fell asleep.

Tom Lucas lived five miles outside of Buxton in a small town called Fairfield. He lived alone. His wife Margaret had died 6 years ago. She had died of Breast Cancer and Tom had nursed her all through the illness. He still missed her, everyday.

They pulled up outside a small stone cottage with a well manicured garden outside.

“Wake up Ray, we’re here”

Ray woke up and got out of the car, the two of them walked to the front door and went inside.

“This is nice Tom, really nice, very cosy and warm!”

Ray then saw a daily paper on the mat just inside the front door. He picked it up and started to read the front page.

Tom tried to take it from him but it was too late, Ray looked frightened and confused again.

“That paper says that today is the 16th February 2007! What the fucks going on!”

Ray started to shake!

“Its Ok, its ok son, come and sit down, I know it doesn’t make sense yet but it will. I’m sure it will”

Tom guided Ray into the front room and sat him down in a very old worn out but very comfortable looking armchair. He then did what he always did in these circumstances; he went and got out a bottle of Malt Whiskey!

His Dad had once told him, “Whenever you’re ill, confused, upset or generally pissed off, always pour yourself a large whisky, have one or two then put the bottle away. Everything looks clearer after a couple of Whiskies. Tom had taken his advice on board. He had drunk a lot of whisky over the past 6 years. He poured them each a large whisky.

“Get that down you, it’ll warm things up and might kick start the old brain matter, then in your own time, tell me what you can”

Ray drank the large whiskey down in one. Tom poured them both another.

“I know my name, I know where I live, I work in computers, I have a wife and daughter, I know that much. But can’t remember their names!”

“How do you think you came to be in Buxton?”

“I’m not sure, I remember saying to someone, a lovely lady, I’m going now. Then I remember closing the door of a large house and then running. That’s it”

“Do the names Laura and Stacey mean anything?”

Rays face seemed to come to life, he stood up.

“Laura is my wife, I love Laura. It was Laura I was saying goodbye to as I left the house. Stacey is my baby girl”

He sat back down and started to cry. He didn’t know why he was crying, he was happy, he was remembering again, but his emotions were running high.

“Told you Ray, didn’t I. A couple of Whiskies always helps”

They both started to laugh. Tom broke his golden rule and poured out a third!