The Pickpocket

Epilogue - 30 Years Later (2050)

Crystal said yes. And yes to many more drinks and dinner dates after that. And yes to my proposal three years later, making me officially the happiest man alive.

Unfortunately, she died twelve years later. She left me with an intelligent, beautiful son that she allowed me to name Billy, after my Dad, and I was also left with a horrible sister-in-law.

Jimmy and I remained friends for years. He eventually got to run the zoo because Ursula was arrested for fraud and other stuff - the list is too long for me to remember, even though me and Jimmy try some nights when we’ve had one too many. 

I’m fifty years old now. Billy’s twenty six and has a baby girl. He named her Crystal after his mum. Baby Crystal has dark brown, almost black, hair and deep brown eyes. The Hatchett eyes. 

I was clearing out the attic a few weeks ago and I found a box in the cupboard at the back. There was a note taped to it in my Dad’s handwriting. I couldn’t understand how he could have written me a note when the date on it said that he’d been dead for fourteen years. Owen was eight at the time and I found the note inside my old funeral jacket. ‘See ya round, kiddo’ was all it said.  

I opened the box earlier today. There was a completely random collection of objects in there - a copy of The Hound of The Baskervilles, a medical report for an omnibus incident, an old-fashioned policeman’s hat, an army revolver, a medal for bravery in WW1, a grenade, a funny little fire extinguisher, a photograph of Alan Turing, an apple and a pocket watch. As soon as I saw the pocket watch I was filled with a feeling that I hadn’t experienced in almost thirty years - complete and utter dread. 

So what did I do?

I got the pocket watch and threw it into a lake. Now that’s been done, I can’t help but feel sad. I lost my dad all those years ago but I gained something else.

I learnt that you don’t have to be good, or brave, or even very tall to be a hero. You don’t need to be straight, or have a heart that’s open to everything, or be particularly strong to make a difference. You just need to be intelligent, be quick thinking, and just want to protect your friends. That’s all you need to remember if you want everything to turn out okay. 

For me, it didn’t. My friends were left behind in the past, I got bruised and battered beyond belief, the one person I could completely trust died because of me being slow to act and I developed a mild case of epilepsy because of the tunnel. 

But I learnt an important lesson. Hold onto those you love; everything ends sooner than you imagine. 

And never, ever accept pocket watches from strangers. 

END