The Speedy ( Part 2).

When the Astronauts returned to Earth they were greeted like conquering heros. They went on a world tour and hundreds of thousands of people turned out to see them. But when they eventually returned home NASA had a suprise for them. Everything that they'd worn on the moon had to be returned. This included the Omega Speedmaster watches that Neil and Buzz had worn on the surface of the Moon. Reluctantly they packed them up and sent them back to NASA.

August 2012. Islington. North London.

Steven Boone looked at the watch his late father had given him for his twenty-first birthday. He’d never worn it except on the day of his dad's funeral, almost three years ago. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the watch, it was that he didn’t much care for his dad. He only went to the funeral to make certain he was dead. As his mum had said many times, “Davey Boone was a wrong’un.”

He hadn’t seen his dad since he was twelve. He went to work one day and just never came back. He left him and his mum to cope the best they could. He never sent them money, never visited, nothing. Mum found out a few years later that he was living about eight miles away in West Ham with a barmaid called Jean.

He never knew what he did for a living. Whenever he asked his mum she always said the same thing “You don’t want to know.” But that was the problem, he DID want to know. It wasn’t until he went to the funeral that everything fell into place. There were lots of “faces” there. Lots of big black overcoats and bent noses. A man he’d never met before and who looked like he should be in a Frankenstein film playing the lead role, put an envelope in his hand and said “Sorry for your loss son. Your dad was a good and loyal friend.” Later he opened the envelope and inside was two thousand pounds in crisp fifty-pound notes. It was obvious, his dad was a bit of a villain and worked for some nasty people. That also explained his death. It was in the Sun Newspaper, page five. The headline read “Man’s body found in a skip in Lewisham.” It didn’t say his name, just that it was a middle-aged man from East London and the Police were investigating. A few days later his mum got a visit from the old bill. Mum's reaction was what you’d expect. “Good fucking riddance.” They asked her if she could think of anyone who would want to hurt him. Her answer was classic mum. “Anyone that’s ever fucking met him.”

He looked at the watch again and remembered the day he got it. The Postman arrived just after nine. Mum called him. He had to sign for it. It was a large brown jiffy bag. Inside was something covered in bubble wrap and a note. “Happy Birthday Son. Love Dad.” When mum saw what it was she went mad.

“A watch? A fucking second-hand watch for your twenty-first? He’s got some nerve your father, he probably nicked it as well. Fucking wrong’un he is, always was and always will be!”

He’d done a bit of research on the watch. It was an Omega Speedmaster, known as the Moonwatch, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin had worn them when they walked on the Moon in 1969. Still being made today and the cost new was around £2000. But this watch wasn’t new and what worried him was his watch didn’t have the inscription on the back that the others had. So it was likely to be a fake. He took it off and threw it back in the drawer of his bedside cabinet. There was a tear in his eye when he muttered “ Mum’s right, you were a wrong un.”

June 2016. Romford, Essex.

“I’ll give you fifty quid for it.”

Gerry Turner looked at the watch and liked what he saw. It was retro, cool and impressive. He wanted it.

Steven Boone laughed at him.

“Where you gonna get fifty quid from. You still owe me a score from last Friday night when we went out and you acted like Billy Big Boy by ordering a round of shots then realising you didn’t have the money to pay for them.”

Gerry shook his head.

“That was different. I just miscalculated that’s all. But I’ve got a bit of dosh coming next week, close to five hundred quid from a labouring job I did with Gary Wells. I’ll square you up then. Deal?”

Steven Boone wasn’t sure. He never wore the watch, but it was given to him by his dad for his twenty-first birthday and that was seven years ago. He was sure it was a fake and was worth bugger all. The rent on the flat was due in just a few days and Gerry’s fifty quid would come in handy. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Go on then. But I want the money by next Friday. Okay?”

Gerry smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Even if I aint got it, I’ll borrow it from Mum till it comes through.”

They shook hands. Gerry Turner now owned the watch. He slipped it on his wrist and fastened the steel bracelet. A few turns of the winder and the watch sprung into life. He’d been trying to impress Gina Wilkins from the Kilby estate and was sure that the watch would be his ticket to securing some bedroom action.