Billy was just about to dash out of the flat when the shrill ring of the telephone echoed from his bedroom. He really didnt want to go backthe lads were already waiting by the front steps outside. Only minutes earlier, hed dropped his football, his mind fixed firmly on the decisive match about to kick off on the pitch behind their block. For a brief moment, he hovered in the doorway, hoping the phone would give up, but it kept at it, relentless and persistent as ever.
Oh, who could that be now? he grumbled, annoyed, and raced back inside, shoes still on.
He snatched up the receiver, preparing himself for another errand from his mum or, worse, his gran fretting over whether hed eaten after school or washed his hands, and all those little things grownups inexplicably worry about.
Hello, Billy mumbled grudgingly into the phone.
Hello! Billy? came a voicea mans, but one he didnt recognise.
My parents arent home, Billy shot back, thinking this was a call for his mum or dad. Hed already started putting the receiver down when the mans voice stopped him.
Billy, pleasehear me out. Dont hang up. This is very important, the voice paused briefly, then continued, urgent. Youre not going to believe me, but I need you to listen. Grab a pen and paper, and write down everything I say. Ive not got much time to explain. I am you, but from the future. I know it sounds mad, but please, just do this. Have you got something to write with?
Billy had been raised to be politethat was the only thing keeping him from hanging up. And besides, his gran always said never to argue with mad peoplebetter just to listen and then carry on as you were anyway. He was sure the man at the other end was a nutter. Or maybe pulling off some prankhe and his mates sometimes rang people at random and made up nonsense: Have you got any water? Good, fill the bath, were bringing round an elephant to wash. Stuff like that. It was a laugh. So, Billy decided not to arguejust find out the punchline of this prank if thats what it was.
Ive got one, he replied seriously. And in the future, do I get some sort of mind-reading gadget?
Mind-reading? Billy, Im not mucking about. If you listen to me and write all this down, youll end up with an iPhone and all sorts, the voice hurried on.
Alright, Im writing, Billy answered, glancing out the window and absentmindedly picking his nose. The lads probably couldnt wait and would be off any minute.
Best to humour the bloke, end the call, and get out quickespecially since this future voice said there wasnt much time.
The voice rattled off dates and years. Stay well clear of some Lucy from the other class. Dont go near pyramid schemes. Buy dollars, then sell them, then buy them backsomething about Black Wednesday, fruit machines and casinos, bitcoin, property, and loads of other words Billy didnt even know.
You get all that? the voice checked.
All of it.
Im counting on you. Guard that bit of paper like its treasure. Dont lose it, dont show anyone. There was a hopeful note in his voice as the line went dead, replaced by the pips of disconnection.
Billy put the receiver back and bolted downstairs. That evening, when his parents got home from work, he remembered the strange call and told his mum and dad about the man who claimed to be Billy himselffrom the future.
Dont ever speak with strangers on the phone, his dad said straight off. And especially not ones offering to help you get rich quick. Just say youll call the police and hang up.
Quite right, chimed in his mum. Who wants dollars anyway? What would you even do with them?
***
A fair bit of time passed, and Billy all but forgot about that phone call. Kids worries shoved out thoughts of Black Wednesday and bitcoins. Schooldays ticked by, full of carefree fun. In Year Nine, a new girl joined their school. She caught Billys eye from day oneeven though she was in the other class, nothing stopped him from getting to know her. Cautious notes and casual walks home grew into something more.
After hed finished his National Service, Billy and Lucy got married. This was well into the roaring ninetiesinitial excitement over all the glossy happiness on offer quickly gave way to disappointment and the headache that followed too many cheap alcopops. Scraping through one recession only to stumble into another. He meant to buy Lucy a pair of boots, just like on telly, but ended up not even having enough for a pair of slippers. The one-bedroom flat theyd mortgaged hung heavy, both in space and monthly payments…
***
Billy sat on a park bench, pulling a cheap bottle of lager from his bag and taking a cautious swig. He lit a cigarette and let his gaze wander over the passersby, not really seeing any of them. He hadnt noticed when an older gentleman, wearing glasses and clutching a big leather briefcase, sat down beside him.
Mind if I join you? the man asked politely as he took his seat.
Billy glanced at him, nodded, and took another drink.
Dull old day, isnt it? The man spoke to no one in particular.
Sos life, said Billy.
But isnt it odd? the man said, turning to him. Seems like those grey days only turn up with age. When you remember your childhood, its like there was always sunshinestreamlets for your boats in spring, fresh grass in summer, golden leaves in autumn, and snow crunching underfoot in winter. Not a grey day anywhere.
Kids have no worries, Billy said wisely. Thats what drains the colour from your days. Did I ever think, as a boy, things would turn out like this?
And without realising how, Billy found himself telling the old man in glasses about all those hopes that turned sour. How every gamble turned out to be a confruit machines on every corner, pyramid schemes promising instant happiness but bringing only mounting debt. How Lucy finally left him, running off with her lover to Majorca, and he was left scraping by, living hand to mouth.
But Ive got a new opportunity now, Billy perked up suddenly. Ive just done this course, Think Like a Millionaire. This bloke says youve got to go all in on crypto. Five hundred percent profits in a week, guaranteed. He sighed, imagining some far-off windfall. Turns out, Ive just been doing it wrong until now.
The old man pushed up his glasses. If you dont mind me asking, young man, what do you do for a living?
Works for mugs, Billy shrugged, taking another swig from the bottle. Youve got to make your money work for you. If only I knew in advance what to backguaranteed!
They both sat in silence for a minute. Billy daydreamed about his crypto millions while the old man pondered his own thoughts.
So you think, the old man continued, if you just had advance knowledge of what was coming, things would turn out fine?
Exactly, Billy agreed.
You intrigue me, the man said, eyeing him carefully. Let me try something on you. He undid his briefcase and produced an ancient rotary telephone. You see, he said, theres a theory that time isnt linear or cyclicalit all happens at once.
I dont get it, Billy admitted honestly.
Well, its like thisits all going on at once: past, present, future. Right now, youre alive at every point in your life. No real distinction.
Still dont get it, Billy replied.
Doesnt matter, the old man smiled, handing over the phone. With this, you can ring your past self. Thing is, you can only call forty years back. Ive tested it on myselfI called, asked what year it was, and that was it. But its oddI dont remember that happening as a child. Does the present repeat, or does it change? How does it affect the future?
Billy naturally thought the old man was off his rocker. But then again, all sorts crop up on the internet, sprouting the wildest ideas and making a mint in the process. Maybe they knew some secret truth, and only shared itfor a fee, which was fair enoughwith others. The naysayersthe ones who called everything a scamwell, they were just stuck turning bolts on a factory line. Billy fancied he was different.
Alright, Ill give it a go! he grinned.
Remember your old home phone number? the man asked. Youd have to have been back home at this time forty years ago to pick up.
Billy noddedhe still remembered it by heart. If the time was right, hed just be in from school. He carefully took the old phone and dialled the familiar number.
It wont last long, warned the old man. The batterys only good for a couple of minutes.
Ill be quick, Billy nodded and dialled in. Long drones came down the line. Dont worry, old chap. If youre on the level, well set things straight right now.
Just as Billy thought it was all nonsense, that no oneleast of all his kid selfwould pick up, the line was live on the other end.
Hello, piped up a grumpy boys voice.
Hello! Billy? Billys palms sweated as nerves took him by surprise.
My parents arent home, came young Billys response, and Billy hurried on, trying not to waste a second.
Billy, listen carefully! Dont hang up. This is important, Billy hesitated, then pressed on. You may not believe this, but Im youfrom the future. Ive got almost no time. Please, just do what I ask. Grab a pad and write down everything Im about to say. Have you got a pen?
Ive got one, chirped young Billy. So, do I get something awesome in the future?
Billy almost lost patience, but caught himselfhe was talking to his own boyhood self, after all. Billy! Im being serious. If you do as I say and write it all down, you’ll have an iPhone and much more.
Okay, Im writing, came tiny Billys hopeful voice.
Billy told him everything he could recallabout how he finished National Service in ’93, landed a great job, but then let his youth get the better of him and frittered away every penny with Lucy.
Billy! Listen up: forget Lucy. Stay well clear of her. Shell only bring you trouble. You listen to me, and youll have a hundred Lucys. Buy dollars with all your wages!
He rattled off details about Black Wednesday in October 94, when to sell, when to buy. Warned him to steer clear of fruit machines and casinos. Better off running them with your matessorted for years. Pyramid schemesnot to touch them. Buy property when its worth next to nothing, sell at the right time. Move to buying up bitcoins in 2009. Everything he could squeeze into those precious few minutes about keeping ahead, he poured out. Every so often he checked: You writing this down?
Got it all, young Billy replied.
Im counting on you. Guard that piece of paper like its the map to buried treasure. Never let anyone see it. Dont lose it, Billy tried to add more, but the line clicked and died.
***
Of course, young Billy hadnt written any of it down. He simply waited for the strange bloke to finish his ramblings, put down the receiver, and shot off to the sunny football pitch outside. If that was someones idea of a prank, it wasnt much of one.
Ill probably tell Mum and Dad about it later, just to be safe, Billy thought to himself as he dashed into the sunlit playground, the worries of the grown-up world no match for a proper game of footie.
