It certainly didn’t look like it should be the offices of an organisation proclaiming to control the fate of the universe itself, although Helen wasn’t exactly sure what she would have expected the headquarters of such an organisation to look like. If you had asked her though, she was fairly sure that she wouldn’t have suggested that the entrance to such a building would be a set of rather plain looking clean glass doubles doors, that looked to be freshly cleaned and polished almost to a sparkle that seemed at odds with the rather overcast weather. Next door seemed to be a fairly run of the mill off-license on one side and a small sandwich bar on the other that looked like it had experienced better days. If it took a lot of people to run the universe and organise fate itself and if a lot of those people worked at this office they seemingly didn't buy that many sandwiches.
The building could have been almost any office block on almost any street within central London. It wasn't hidden or trying to hide behind some kind of 'front', it was just there for all to see. It even proclaimed, in a neatly printed white vinyl sign with stark black letters, ‘F.A.T.E Incorporated’. There looked like there was an intercom too, and some kind of access system, the type of things you would see at the door to any regular, average office building.
“People generally just presume we are a posh media company or something equally pretentious” Tobias shrugged noting the look on Helen’s face, “haven’t seen anyone ask what we do, ever, the local pizza place even delivers.”
“Hiding in plain sight or something like that?”
“Pretty much,” the Irishman smiled, “not that we wouldn’t know if someone was on to us.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a little plastic swipe card that would have passed neatly through the security device at the side of the door if it wasn't for the small chunk of chewed gum attached to the side of the card that it had picked up in his pocket. Tobias muttered to himself in what Helen presumed was actually Irish and irritatedly flicked the gum off with his index finger so he could use the card, allowing him to open the doors and usher her in. It struck Helen that it was possibly the first time she had actually heard someone speak Irish, apart perhaps from in a movie, she knew a few people who were Irish, or claimed to be, but she had never actually heard them speak their own language.
“Ladies first”
A short non-descript corridor led to an elevator. Apart from a couple of potted plants flanking the elevator doors there was not much else to distinguish the entrance from any other office entrance Helen cared to remember. For some reason she was still expecting something more elaborate. She wasn't sure how it was supposed to be elaborate but it wasn't supposed to be so ordinary looking. For some reason she was slightly disappointed that everything seemed, at least at first glance, to be normal. She expected a mysterious organisation that secretly plotted the evolution of man to be a little bit more, well, mysterious.
It wasn’t that she was worried, which surprised her slightly, given that she was walking past a set of doors that had just locked behind them in the company of a genuinely weird stranger into a building whose residents she didn’t have the first clue about. For some reason though, and as much as she was trying to fight it with rational thought, she was beginning to get a most peculiar feeling that she was supposed to be here. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on exactly, but as they passed a second set of finely polished wooden doors and along another immaculately kept white walled corridor Helen couldn’t help shake the strange feeling that she didn’t have anything to fear...which she thought was patently ridiculous given the circumstances.
The corridor opened out into a wide circular reception area with a large window that looked down onto the street below, a wide arcing white desk sat at the far end of the room and a pretty young girl, who at least looked to be in her early twenties smiled sweetly at Tobias as he greeted her and ushered Helen towards the large leather seats that ran along the wall under the windows.
“This the new recruit?” The blond girl asked returning Tobias’ smile.
“Yup, one in the same, expect old Drewer is expecting us.”
“He is, just sign here,” the receptionist confirmed sliding a black plastic clipboard across the desk, “Why were you picking her up? Not often we see you here apart from Fridays.” Helen wondered what was so special about Fridays.
“No idea,” Tobias shrugged, “they don’t tell me, you know me, just get on and do what they ask of me, a willing servant and all that. Are they ready for us now?”
“Not quite yet, Drewer called some extra meetings this morning. He said you should just wait in the operations area for him to be ready.”
“Hold on a second, did you just say that Drewer called extra meetings?” Tobias said looking more than a little bemused, “like as in unscheduled, unexpected meetings? Mr Drewer called an unexpected meeting?” he repeated the sentence as if the words didn't go together in his mind.
“I know,” the receptionist replied, almost lowering her tone to a whisper and leaning towards Tobias, “took everyone by surprise, first time in thirty years, they say something must have happened this morning.”
“Interesting, guess it’s above our pay grade to know what it is.”
“Everyone is talking about it, caused quite a stir, but if anyone has been told yet they aren’t saying, its just been the higher ups that have been in there so far, apparently even Nixon was there. I saw Jenkins rushing about as well.”
“and that is never a pretty sight” Tobias quipped drawing a smile from the receptionist.
As the pair continued to chat Helen watched the people that passed by, presumably other members of staff since they didn’t stop at the desk and simply used their cards to pass through the large black door behind the reception. No one seemed to give her a second glance despite her current state. She could only suppose that having a clearly bedraggled and slightly dubiously dressed young woman sitting in their reception wasn’t out of the ordinary, or maybe she wondered if it wasn’t out of the ordinary for clearly bedraggled and slightly dubiously dressed young women to be with Tobias.
He struck her as the type who might work a certain rugged charm.
Everyone she had seen so far looked normal enough though, aside from a few out of style haircuts and one man whose fashion sense was apparently wedged firmly in 1970-something.
Tobias came back and sat down beside her, “They asked we wait here a little, hope you don’t mind, some meeting of the bigwigs apparently.”
“Guess I don’t have much of a choice but to wait now do I?”
Tobias smiled, “Very true, very true.”
“How many people work here?” Helen asked figuring she may as well make polite conversation while she waited to learn exactly how her life had been turned upside down in the space of a few hours.
“At this office? I am not sure to be honest,” Tobias answered obviously trying to think, “a few hundred maybe, I think there are around three or four thousand of us in all, not counting the seers.”
“The seers? Those are the ones with the power I presume.”
Tobias nodded, “They call it ‘The Vision’ but yes, that’s the seers”
“Do they work here?”
“Here? No, no one but the higher ups know where they are, rumours are its some secluded monastery in Italy or something, hides a hi-tech network hub, all the information the seers provide gets computerised now so the brains here get it instantly.”
“So how do you know they actually exist?”
“Heh, a frequent doubters question,” Tobias grinned, “well strictly speaking I guess I can’t say that I do know for sure, but what I do know is that the predictions, wherever they might come from are accurate. So does it really matter if it’s a person, a machine or a goat that provides them?”
“A goat?” Helen laughed out loud enough for the receptionist to look up and smile at her.
“I just always found the thought of all this universal truth crap coming from some random farm animal amusing.” Tobias explained, the grin on his face widening.
Just then a group of a dozen or so young men and women bustled down the corridor, busily chatting to each other and rustling the papers and notepads that were wedged under their arms or carried neatly by their sides. One of them was speaking into a rather old looking dictaphone that was probably fashionable sometime in the 1980s. Another who looked to be in his seventies tapped furiously on an iPhone. The last member of the group was straggling a little behind on account of the fact she was carrying an old typewriter in her arms. No one else seemed to show any sign of thinking that carrying a typewriter around might be a strange thing to do in a modern office.
“That’s the morning horoscope meeting breaking up,” Tobias explained, “happens every morning, they plan the damn things out a few months in advance, far too much effort for my liking.”
“Horoscopes?”
“Yeah, natural outlet for our creative types, think we employ half the horoscope writers in the world at last count. It’s by far the most cost effective manner of manipulating the type of people that believe in that stuff. People are much more open to suggestion if they believe its ‘written in the stars’ as it were” Tobias winked
“So you write what you want to happen?”
“Well no, pretty hard to be that specific, its not as if we want everyone going off doing stuff they might not otherwise. Look at it this way, if we need someone to pay attention to a total stranger for some reason they are much more likely to stop if they have read their horoscope and it said something like ‘a stranger will bring joyous tidings’, its just playing on peoples hopes and fears I guess”
“Does it work?”
Tobias shrugged, “The suits upstairs tell us that it does, they always like to present these little pie charts and the like with titles like ‘percentage horoscope efficiency’ and stuff like that. I have absolutely no idea how they come up with the numbers though, maybe they make them up to make us feel more efficient and motivated.”
Helen couldn't help but pick up on the sarcasm with which the Irishman delivered the line. “I imagine keeping immortals motivated in the long term can be quite a task.”
“Funny,” Tobias grinned, “hadn’t ever thought of it that way, personally I’m happy with the beer on Friday they buy for us, then again I am a fairly simple guy.”
“Beer on a Friday?”
“Company perk, once a week they go out and fill the fridge in the recreation room with beer, one of them big American fridges too, you know the type, all metallic and shiny like you only used to see on American sit-coms, I love that thing. It even has the ice machine on the front, that's cool.”
Helen smiled, “So that’s what the receptionist meant when she said they don’t often see you apart from Fridays.”
Tobias nodded, “I am a creature of habit and drinking is one of my more consistent habits.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“It's in the Irish blood, all those years of stereotypes do have their roots in some fundamental truths you know.”
“Can I ask you a personal question Tobias?”
“That depends what the question is really. You are free enough to ask, can't guarantee I'll answer.” Tobias chuckled, “have to maintain some of the air of mystery don't I?”
“You said we were both immortal right?”
The Irishman nodded slowly, “That I did indeed.”
“So how old are you exactly?”
“Now there is a question,” Tobias smiled, “To be honest I don't know exactly. Give or take a couple of years I am about one hundred and sixty years old. They weren't so big on birth certificates back in rural Ireland in those days so I don't actually know my birthday.”
“So when do you celebrate it? Or do you stop celebrating your birthdays after that many years?”
“Stop celebrating? You did get the bit about me liking a drink didn't you? I will always celebrate. Don't laugh, but I took to celebrating it on St Patrick's Day. A bit of a cliché I know, but for the longest time I was the only Irishman in this office so it kind of made sense that the paddy's birthday would on good old Saint Paddy's day.”
“So you are actually originally from Ireland then?”
“That I am,” he answered, “managed to stowaway on a grain boat and get my sorry arse to England during the great famine.”
"So to ask a personal question again," Helen continued, "when and how did you end up working here?"
“To be honest, that is kind of fuzzy for me too. I don't exactly know, I think it happened at some point in the months after I arrived in Liverpool sometime in the winter of eighteen fifty-one. Since I didn't have any real anchor in the world I didn't know anyone was missing me for quite a while.”
“What do you mean? How could you miss the fact that you had vanished from the world and no-one knew you?”
Tobias grinned, “Well I wasn't as popular back then. Truth be told I was completely unknown, new to the country let alone the city. I had no friends and I was living on the street so didn't even have a landlord to be chasing me for rent. So I don't actually know when it happened precisely.”
“How did you find out?”
“I bumped into a lass from Leeds that I had kind of had a tumble or two with a few months before at one of the poor houses I dossed in for a while. When she didn't know me from Adam I knew something was up.”
“You mean you met a girl you had slept with before and she didn't give you the time of day? That is what told you there was a problem?” Helen smirked.
“Don't give me that look,” Tobias laughed, “That had never happened to me before, pretty sure that it hasn't happened again since either if you must know. I am a fairly memorable type in that regard even if I do say so myself. So yes, that little encounter did tell me that something was up. I had no idea what exactly was happening though.”
“So how did you end up here?”
“They came and found me. It wasn't like it is now of course. When a seer managed to locate a new arrival back in those days it could take days, weeks or months for them to get an operative out to meet up with you. They didn't even have a London office in those days so they ended up sending a guy from Belgium of all places to fetch me. I was actually one of the first people to work in this office when they founded it not long after.”
“This office has been here since then?”
“Pretty much,” Tobias explained, “apart from a brief period during the blitz where we had to evacuate out the city, we have been here the whole time. It's a good location, nice and central.”
“I would have thought people like you would have been able to prevent any bombs landing on you during the war. Controlling fate and all that, doesn't that have some perks?”
“One, I never said we controlled fate, we just influence it,” Tobias explained waving a finger in Helen's direction, “two, war brings with it chaos. War is one of those wild cards, apparently conflict generates way more variables than normal, and involves far more personal timelines interacting on a daily basis. It is far harder for them to see things properly in a war of that scale. At least that is what they say.”
“I see, did you get to stay somewhere nice outside the city during the war then?”
“Small place called Bletchley Park,” Tobias grinned, “you might have heard of it.”
“Isn't that where they broke the codes and such?”
“Exactly, there were some really interesting people there I tell you. First time some of ours had to marvel at the ingenuity of the regular genius types. In a weird way I actually enjoyed those years, even if I did miss the old city.”
“It must be interesting getting to witness so much history.” Hearing Tobias talk was starting to make Helen consider the possibility that this whole situation might not be as bad as she first feared. Providing she was willing to accept that she must be crazy to be accepting all this in the first place.
“It can be I suppose, I don't really think of it that way. It can get boring too though, I tell you some decades can drag. I thought the damn nineteen seventies were never going to bloody end.”
Before Tobias could elaborate any further the receptionist called him over and said that Mr Drewer was going to be busy today, so they should report to Mrs Peabody who was going to do what they called the 'debriefing', that they asked all new arrivals to do. Helen figured she may as well play along and see what happened.
The building could have been almost any office block on almost any street within central London. It wasn't hidden or trying to hide behind some kind of 'front', it was just there for all to see. It even proclaimed, in a neatly printed white vinyl sign with stark black letters, ‘F.A.T.E Incorporated’. There looked like there was an intercom too, and some kind of access system, the type of things you would see at the door to any regular, average office building.
“People generally just presume we are a posh media company or something equally pretentious” Tobias shrugged noting the look on Helen’s face, “haven’t seen anyone ask what we do, ever, the local pizza place even delivers.”
“Hiding in plain sight or something like that?”
“Pretty much,” the Irishman smiled, “not that we wouldn’t know if someone was on to us.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a little plastic swipe card that would have passed neatly through the security device at the side of the door if it wasn't for the small chunk of chewed gum attached to the side of the card that it had picked up in his pocket. Tobias muttered to himself in what Helen presumed was actually Irish and irritatedly flicked the gum off with his index finger so he could use the card, allowing him to open the doors and usher her in. It struck Helen that it was possibly the first time she had actually heard someone speak Irish, apart perhaps from in a movie, she knew a few people who were Irish, or claimed to be, but she had never actually heard them speak their own language.
“Ladies first”
A short non-descript corridor led to an elevator. Apart from a couple of potted plants flanking the elevator doors there was not much else to distinguish the entrance from any other office entrance Helen cared to remember. For some reason she was still expecting something more elaborate. She wasn't sure how it was supposed to be elaborate but it wasn't supposed to be so ordinary looking. For some reason she was slightly disappointed that everything seemed, at least at first glance, to be normal. She expected a mysterious organisation that secretly plotted the evolution of man to be a little bit more, well, mysterious.
It wasn’t that she was worried, which surprised her slightly, given that she was walking past a set of doors that had just locked behind them in the company of a genuinely weird stranger into a building whose residents she didn’t have the first clue about. For some reason though, and as much as she was trying to fight it with rational thought, she was beginning to get a most peculiar feeling that she was supposed to be here. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on exactly, but as they passed a second set of finely polished wooden doors and along another immaculately kept white walled corridor Helen couldn’t help shake the strange feeling that she didn’t have anything to fear...which she thought was patently ridiculous given the circumstances.
The corridor opened out into a wide circular reception area with a large window that looked down onto the street below, a wide arcing white desk sat at the far end of the room and a pretty young girl, who at least looked to be in her early twenties smiled sweetly at Tobias as he greeted her and ushered Helen towards the large leather seats that ran along the wall under the windows.
“This the new recruit?” The blond girl asked returning Tobias’ smile.
“Yup, one in the same, expect old Drewer is expecting us.”
“He is, just sign here,” the receptionist confirmed sliding a black plastic clipboard across the desk, “Why were you picking her up? Not often we see you here apart from Fridays.” Helen wondered what was so special about Fridays.
“No idea,” Tobias shrugged, “they don’t tell me, you know me, just get on and do what they ask of me, a willing servant and all that. Are they ready for us now?”
“Not quite yet, Drewer called some extra meetings this morning. He said you should just wait in the operations area for him to be ready.”
“Hold on a second, did you just say that Drewer called extra meetings?” Tobias said looking more than a little bemused, “like as in unscheduled, unexpected meetings? Mr Drewer called an unexpected meeting?” he repeated the sentence as if the words didn't go together in his mind.
“I know,” the receptionist replied, almost lowering her tone to a whisper and leaning towards Tobias, “took everyone by surprise, first time in thirty years, they say something must have happened this morning.”
“Interesting, guess it’s above our pay grade to know what it is.”
“Everyone is talking about it, caused quite a stir, but if anyone has been told yet they aren’t saying, its just been the higher ups that have been in there so far, apparently even Nixon was there. I saw Jenkins rushing about as well.”
“and that is never a pretty sight” Tobias quipped drawing a smile from the receptionist.
As the pair continued to chat Helen watched the people that passed by, presumably other members of staff since they didn’t stop at the desk and simply used their cards to pass through the large black door behind the reception. No one seemed to give her a second glance despite her current state. She could only suppose that having a clearly bedraggled and slightly dubiously dressed young woman sitting in their reception wasn’t out of the ordinary, or maybe she wondered if it wasn’t out of the ordinary for clearly bedraggled and slightly dubiously dressed young women to be with Tobias.
He struck her as the type who might work a certain rugged charm.
Everyone she had seen so far looked normal enough though, aside from a few out of style haircuts and one man whose fashion sense was apparently wedged firmly in 1970-something.
Tobias came back and sat down beside her, “They asked we wait here a little, hope you don’t mind, some meeting of the bigwigs apparently.”
“Guess I don’t have much of a choice but to wait now do I?”
Tobias smiled, “Very true, very true.”
“How many people work here?” Helen asked figuring she may as well make polite conversation while she waited to learn exactly how her life had been turned upside down in the space of a few hours.
“At this office? I am not sure to be honest,” Tobias answered obviously trying to think, “a few hundred maybe, I think there are around three or four thousand of us in all, not counting the seers.”
“The seers? Those are the ones with the power I presume.”
Tobias nodded, “They call it ‘The Vision’ but yes, that’s the seers”
“Do they work here?”
“Here? No, no one but the higher ups know where they are, rumours are its some secluded monastery in Italy or something, hides a hi-tech network hub, all the information the seers provide gets computerised now so the brains here get it instantly.”
“So how do you know they actually exist?”
“Heh, a frequent doubters question,” Tobias grinned, “well strictly speaking I guess I can’t say that I do know for sure, but what I do know is that the predictions, wherever they might come from are accurate. So does it really matter if it’s a person, a machine or a goat that provides them?”
“A goat?” Helen laughed out loud enough for the receptionist to look up and smile at her.
“I just always found the thought of all this universal truth crap coming from some random farm animal amusing.” Tobias explained, the grin on his face widening.
Just then a group of a dozen or so young men and women bustled down the corridor, busily chatting to each other and rustling the papers and notepads that were wedged under their arms or carried neatly by their sides. One of them was speaking into a rather old looking dictaphone that was probably fashionable sometime in the 1980s. Another who looked to be in his seventies tapped furiously on an iPhone. The last member of the group was straggling a little behind on account of the fact she was carrying an old typewriter in her arms. No one else seemed to show any sign of thinking that carrying a typewriter around might be a strange thing to do in a modern office.
“That’s the morning horoscope meeting breaking up,” Tobias explained, “happens every morning, they plan the damn things out a few months in advance, far too much effort for my liking.”
“Horoscopes?”
“Yeah, natural outlet for our creative types, think we employ half the horoscope writers in the world at last count. It’s by far the most cost effective manner of manipulating the type of people that believe in that stuff. People are much more open to suggestion if they believe its ‘written in the stars’ as it were” Tobias winked
“So you write what you want to happen?”
“Well no, pretty hard to be that specific, its not as if we want everyone going off doing stuff they might not otherwise. Look at it this way, if we need someone to pay attention to a total stranger for some reason they are much more likely to stop if they have read their horoscope and it said something like ‘a stranger will bring joyous tidings’, its just playing on peoples hopes and fears I guess”
“Does it work?”
Tobias shrugged, “The suits upstairs tell us that it does, they always like to present these little pie charts and the like with titles like ‘percentage horoscope efficiency’ and stuff like that. I have absolutely no idea how they come up with the numbers though, maybe they make them up to make us feel more efficient and motivated.”
Helen couldn't help but pick up on the sarcasm with which the Irishman delivered the line. “I imagine keeping immortals motivated in the long term can be quite a task.”
“Funny,” Tobias grinned, “hadn’t ever thought of it that way, personally I’m happy with the beer on Friday they buy for us, then again I am a fairly simple guy.”
“Beer on a Friday?”
“Company perk, once a week they go out and fill the fridge in the recreation room with beer, one of them big American fridges too, you know the type, all metallic and shiny like you only used to see on American sit-coms, I love that thing. It even has the ice machine on the front, that's cool.”
Helen smiled, “So that’s what the receptionist meant when she said they don’t often see you apart from Fridays.”
Tobias nodded, “I am a creature of habit and drinking is one of my more consistent habits.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“It's in the Irish blood, all those years of stereotypes do have their roots in some fundamental truths you know.”
“Can I ask you a personal question Tobias?”
“That depends what the question is really. You are free enough to ask, can't guarantee I'll answer.” Tobias chuckled, “have to maintain some of the air of mystery don't I?”
“You said we were both immortal right?”
The Irishman nodded slowly, “That I did indeed.”
“So how old are you exactly?”
“Now there is a question,” Tobias smiled, “To be honest I don't know exactly. Give or take a couple of years I am about one hundred and sixty years old. They weren't so big on birth certificates back in rural Ireland in those days so I don't actually know my birthday.”
“So when do you celebrate it? Or do you stop celebrating your birthdays after that many years?”
“Stop celebrating? You did get the bit about me liking a drink didn't you? I will always celebrate. Don't laugh, but I took to celebrating it on St Patrick's Day. A bit of a cliché I know, but for the longest time I was the only Irishman in this office so it kind of made sense that the paddy's birthday would on good old Saint Paddy's day.”
“So you are actually originally from Ireland then?”
“That I am,” he answered, “managed to stowaway on a grain boat and get my sorry arse to England during the great famine.”
"So to ask a personal question again," Helen continued, "when and how did you end up working here?"
“To be honest, that is kind of fuzzy for me too. I don't exactly know, I think it happened at some point in the months after I arrived in Liverpool sometime in the winter of eighteen fifty-one. Since I didn't have any real anchor in the world I didn't know anyone was missing me for quite a while.”
“What do you mean? How could you miss the fact that you had vanished from the world and no-one knew you?”
Tobias grinned, “Well I wasn't as popular back then. Truth be told I was completely unknown, new to the country let alone the city. I had no friends and I was living on the street so didn't even have a landlord to be chasing me for rent. So I don't actually know when it happened precisely.”
“How did you find out?”
“I bumped into a lass from Leeds that I had kind of had a tumble or two with a few months before at one of the poor houses I dossed in for a while. When she didn't know me from Adam I knew something was up.”
“You mean you met a girl you had slept with before and she didn't give you the time of day? That is what told you there was a problem?” Helen smirked.
“Don't give me that look,” Tobias laughed, “That had never happened to me before, pretty sure that it hasn't happened again since either if you must know. I am a fairly memorable type in that regard even if I do say so myself. So yes, that little encounter did tell me that something was up. I had no idea what exactly was happening though.”
“So how did you end up here?”
“They came and found me. It wasn't like it is now of course. When a seer managed to locate a new arrival back in those days it could take days, weeks or months for them to get an operative out to meet up with you. They didn't even have a London office in those days so they ended up sending a guy from Belgium of all places to fetch me. I was actually one of the first people to work in this office when they founded it not long after.”
“This office has been here since then?”
“Pretty much,” Tobias explained, “apart from a brief period during the blitz where we had to evacuate out the city, we have been here the whole time. It's a good location, nice and central.”
“I would have thought people like you would have been able to prevent any bombs landing on you during the war. Controlling fate and all that, doesn't that have some perks?”
“One, I never said we controlled fate, we just influence it,” Tobias explained waving a finger in Helen's direction, “two, war brings with it chaos. War is one of those wild cards, apparently conflict generates way more variables than normal, and involves far more personal timelines interacting on a daily basis. It is far harder for them to see things properly in a war of that scale. At least that is what they say.”
“I see, did you get to stay somewhere nice outside the city during the war then?”
“Small place called Bletchley Park,” Tobias grinned, “you might have heard of it.”
“Isn't that where they broke the codes and such?”
“Exactly, there were some really interesting people there I tell you. First time some of ours had to marvel at the ingenuity of the regular genius types. In a weird way I actually enjoyed those years, even if I did miss the old city.”
“It must be interesting getting to witness so much history.” Hearing Tobias talk was starting to make Helen consider the possibility that this whole situation might not be as bad as she first feared. Providing she was willing to accept that she must be crazy to be accepting all this in the first place.
“It can be I suppose, I don't really think of it that way. It can get boring too though, I tell you some decades can drag. I thought the damn nineteen seventies were never going to bloody end.”
Before Tobias could elaborate any further the receptionist called him over and said that Mr Drewer was going to be busy today, so they should report to Mrs Peabody who was going to do what they called the 'debriefing', that they asked all new arrivals to do. Helen figured she may as well play along and see what happened.
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