The Secret

Charles discovers the secret

"So that's the story up to date? that's where we stand now, right?" Charles rose from the bed and realised the morning sun was streaming through the open window.

"That's everything. Now you know as much as anyone." Sandra rose too and walked to the shower.

"So why did Gremalgin turn up?" asked Charles watching her in the shower.

"The day you had sex with her, was the first time I had seen her since I caught her with Terry. Honest!" Sandra let the water flow over her body and trickle down her legs.

"But why did she want to be treated so brutally? To be just used on the spot like that?"

"I told you, she isn't quite human. She enjoys danger and a touch of evil, it's where her power comes from. Did you not find it strange, that you were overcome with an urge to just do it, there and then in the maze?"

"Yes, that's true. I wondered why I lost all control." Charles was almost overcome with a sense of guilt, at the memory of the sex act.

"There you are then. She worked her spell on you, and you were hooked. Not too hard either," laughed Sandra, stepping from the shower, where Charles handed her the towel.

"So how did you get mixed up with Terry and the porno business?"

"I told you, he worked for Cheesman, and Councillor Dual was pressing them for protection money. So I used a little Magic and found them a way to repay the money. But it was the Ring I was really interested in, for it sits on the finger of Cheesman's wife; Betty."

"Why not just win it on a horse?" asked Charles as they went down to make breakfast.

"I've told you that too! It doesn't work like that. I can influence some things, but in the end, it's only people I can manipulate. It's easier to let them make the money for themselves."

"This Magical Order? They have never been in touch since?"

"No, it seems I am alone here. although I expect they will get in touch sooner or later. Whatever this Chesterton has planned for the world, will not go unnoticed. They will want to know what I'm doing and how I intend to stop him."

"And just what do you intend to do?" asked Charles.

"Oh, I've got a few ideas."

Life carried on as normally as it could after such a revaluation. Charles saw the village in a new light now, and wandered around it, looking at the sights as if he was seeing them for the first time.

There was the pub, The Steel Helmet. The very same pub Sandra had visited when she had come through time in 1944. He then walked to the edge of the village and looked out across the fields. They had changed a lot over the years, with many of the hedges being dugout, and the trees being cut down. But Charles could still envisage the Roundhead cavalry charging across those fields to attack the village. He stood and looked at the old walls around him on the ground, and realised this must have been the very spot where the people built barricades to try and stop them.

It was only as he walked back to the Manor House, that Charles realised just how involved with the history of Amptswell he really was. Did Sandra know anything about his family? Had she met his ancestors? For answers to those questions, he went back home.

"So you've come back to visit eh?" His Father still sat in front of the television with the racing paper and a pen.

"Look Dad I don't want a big scene, if you don't want me here I'll go." Charles never took his hand from the door, just in case.

"Don't be so stupid," said his mother with a smile. "You are our son, and we never take any notice of village gossip. That Bob Tailor always did have a big mouth."

The family welcomed him in, and Charles found he was a lot eager to talk about his adventures than he had at first thought.

"So what's the South of France like Charlie?" asked his sister Helen, as they all gathered at the table that night.

"Hot! Very hot."

"You going down to London to live?" asked his brother Billy.

"Not likely! Terrible place, no countryside. No, once I've made a bit of money, I'm coming back here to live." Charles looked around the table to see how this would be received.

"You are playing a dangerous game," was all his mother would say.

The subject of his future was forgotten for the rest of the evening. Later Charles found his Father in the garden.

"Dad, there are certain things about the Manor I have to know?"

"I thought you might." Mr Soams pretended to busy himself with a row of vegetables. "What do you want to know?"

"What did Great granddad see up there?"

"Remember your Grandfather is still alive. Why not go to the old peoples home and ask him."

The next day Charles took his Fathers advice and walked to the other side of the village. Here stood the old peoples home, a complex of small bungalows, built on a piece of land, the Army had concreted over during the war. No one else wanted to put houses here, so the best plan was to give it to the pensioners.

Charles always had mixed feelings about coming here. It was so depressing. They had no money; no sex, nothing. What really scared him, more than anything, was the thought that one day he might end up like this himself.

At first, his Grandfather pretended not to know who he was and complained that it might interfere with dinner time.

"Granddad I want to ask you about the Manor House? You must have worked there?"

"The Manor! Never worked in that bloody place! Too busy fighting on D-Day. That's what your generation needs, a good war to toughen them up." The old man shot a scornful glance his way, as he clearly knew who he was now.

"But Great Granddad did, didn't he?"

"Yes and saw a few things too. Things which would make your hair curl." The old man began to laugh to himself at this.

"So why did he stop working there? What did he see that made him go?"

"If I told you the truth you would say I was barmy. Another loony old man, locked up in this madhouse, and the best place for them." He became silent and waited for the boy's reaction.

"Just lately, I can believe almost anything. Do you know a woman named Sandra Draper? Or her old name: Sarah Soams."

With that, the expression on the old mans face changed.

"Where did you get that name from boy?" His Grandfather reached across and took hold of Charles' jacket as if he wanted to stop him escaping.

"I know her."

"You mean you read about her?"

"No, I know her. She lives in the old Manor House, today."

"That's impossible! So the stories are all true?" He let go of the boy and looked out of the window.

"So you know what I'm talking about Granddad?"

"Go on, what do you want to know?"

"Is it all true? About her coming from the past?"

"Some of it must be true. Look over there, and bring me those old photographs."

Charles found a collection of photographs and pictures sitting on top of an old trunk.

"You see that one? That's your Great Grandfather Tyler in the Manor gardens during the War. Full of Americans in those days."

"Yes, she said there were. So she did meet Great Granddad, that day she travelled forward in time, through the Maze? I wondered if she made it up?"

"No boy, it's all true. She really is from another age. The Civil War I think. That's where she brought that Gremalgin creature from. You met her?" He looked at the boy, who would not meet his eye. "I thought so. Never mind it wouldn't be your fault. Well, your Great Grandfather knew a man when he was a little boy, and that man was very old. Well, this old gentleman had known another old man in his turn. That old man was Squire Dorkins at Ampstwell Manor in the nineteenth century."

"So far back, how can we prove any of it?" Charles looked at the pictures.

"There's the proof you need. Look at that old picture. Recognise anyone in it?"

To his horror Charles did.

"My God it's her! Sandra standing with Gremalgin, dressed in Victorian clothes!"

"So you see, they lived in that age. Now for some real surprises. This old oil painting was - shall we say - acquired by your Great Grandfather when he ceased employment at the Manor. It sort of fell under his arm as he walked out the door."

"These people in the painting? Are you telling me these are the Reverend Fanshaw and Sandra?"

"Sarah, as she was in those days. There were still enough old men in the village that could remember that far back, and they confirmed it was her."

"So it is true, all of it?" Charles stood up and looked out the window. Clearly, things were becoming dangerous for him now. Before he had just put it down to a wild story, but what Sandra had told him that night was all true.

"What you have to ask yourself is; what are you going to do now Charlie?" His Grandfather looked at him from the chair and wondered how the boy would react.

"She wants revenge. Revenge for what happened during the Civil War. The village must have been smashed to bits."

"It suffered, but people survived and life went on. Bob Tailor still live there?"

"Yes, making everyone's life a misery, as usual."

"Well take no notice of the likes of him. It was his family, that helped the roundheads find the village. So he's got nothing to crow about."

"What about this Chesterton she's always on about?" asked Charles, warming to the old man now.

"She will be looking for her Mother's ring. Now that had Magic! That's why this Chesterton stole it."

"Must have changed his name by now. Sandra is determined to get him. She wants me to join in a plan to find him. I think she has learnt who he really is, but won't tell me."

"Do you feel it's safe?" asked his Grandfather with some concern.

"Hardly. It involves tricking these two women into parting with a lot of money. I think they are the key to the man's identity. Find out what they know, and you find the man."

"Just be careful Charles. The Soams family has used us in the past to fight its wars. They'll stop at nothing to get what they want."

Charles left with a collection of photos; pictures and the old trunk his Grandfather had kept them in. He had told Charles it was a special trunk and might come in useful in the future. In fact, it was so big he convinced Sandra to let it stand in the hallway of the Manor.

"I think it was a piece of magical equipment my Father used. You place things in it, and they travel through the cosmic ether." Sandra stepped over the heavy chest, to put her stockings on.

"What the hell is that?" asked Charles with a laugh.

"The cosmic ether surrounds everything. It's wrapped around the world we live in, and around the whole of space and time. Another dimension if you like."

"So are you expecting me to believe that if I put something in it, it will travel to another place and time?" Charles was wondering if his sanity could stand all this nonsense.

"Yes, exactly that. Maybe one day you will have to put it to the test?"

Back at the Manor, things were well underway for Sandra and her London plot. They were to go down that night and set the scene in their West End flat. Situated at the heart of things, Sandra had found the flat had come in useful before, when it came to launching her plans, and this one had to work perfectly.

They all met that evening and settled down to drinks and some informal chat. Charles was only grateful Sandra's husband Terry, was nowhere in sight. He had never got the full truth from her over the situation between Sandra and Terry and could see this becoming a problem in the future. For now, he had to settle down to some serious sexual pleasure with the two women. As usual, Sandra just pretended to be interested and watched closely.

Margaret and Betty were the typical sorts of women who had enough money to buy anything and were now bored with everything. They searched London for any thrilling sex scene and jumped at the chance of joining Sandra, once they discovered she was involved in the porno business. Of course, none of this had to be leaked to their husbands, as a scandal on this scale would bring certain punishments, and Councillor Dual, in particular, was known for terrible acts of violence.

So once the drink had loosened them up Charles was ordered to get down to work. He was very relieved as the door opened and one of the studs from the Mayfair studio came into the flat to help him out. Sandra had promised someone else would turn up to help service the two women and sure enough she was true to her word.

The man had a huge tool, compared to the boy's modest organ. As Betty found out and filled the flat with screams of pleasure, the man sitting astride her as she leant over the back of the sofa. He gave the sort of smile he had learnt before the camera and carried on. Betty screwed her eyes up tight and knitted her brows in delight.

Charles was put to work on Margaret, and explored every inch beneath her short skirt, as he pulled it slowly up over her bottom. Stroking and licking her skin, above her black stocking tops, and the edge of her knickers; she groaned in pleasure to let him know things were going the right way.

Sandra had undressed but chose to lay on the floor and watch, as the two men worked hard to please the women.

Things were going well.

As they lay in each other's arms that night, Sandra began to put the plan into action. She passed around a bottle of brandy amidst girlish giggles and an atmosphere like a sixth form party on the last day of term.

"So you two girls still want some of this serious money we were talking about?" Sandra said it as if she simply wanted to get the whole thing out of the way.

"Of course we do. You know our husbands give us nothing to play with, in the way of pocket money. We have to rely on charity, like your pet Charlie here." Margaret played with the boys limp cock.

"In that case, you might be interested in sitting in on one of our board meetings tomorrow." Sandra got up and was about to walk into the kitchen for some ice.

"Hold on Sandra! Is that legal? Betty asked her.

"Hell no, but just keep your mouth shut, no one will know. I won't tell if you won't. Terry won't mind a bit. We don't know what to spend the damn money on now. So you two girls might as well take a look at some business opportunities."

The evening became a blur to Charles after that. He could remember being forced into more sex, but his cock was well and truly spent by the early hours, and he simply passed out with the drink.

The next day a bleary-eyed party met at Martin Burrows office overlooking the Thames.

"I'll open the meeting by welcoming our guests and get straight down to the business of our overseas investments." Martin was perfect for this sort of scam. Once a small-time solicitor worrying himself to death over conveyancing deals, the meeting with Terry was the best thing that had ever happened to him. With the introduction of Sandra into the business partnership, things just went from strength to strength. They now had more money than they could launder and risked the danger of paying a huge amount of tax. In his opinion, this scam was set up to take the heat out of that problem. He knew nothing of the bigger picture, and the real reason Sandra had set it up.

The meeting dragged, and Charles became more bored by the minute. The only incident which woke him up, was Sandra sliding her hand under the table and feeling his penis, then looking at him with a smile. Finally, they seemed to be wrapping things up and Martin looked around to see if there was any other business.

"Yes I think that's everything," said Terry, about to put away his small handheld computer.

"So we'll leave the business of the diamonds and precious stones for another time?"

"We'll have to Martin, we haven't the time to transfer money to those accounts." Sandra was about to rise from the table when Margaret and Betty stopped her.

"You are going to leave it?" Margaret said in astonishment.

"It will need well over a million in cash! I mean one million in notes!" Sandra looked at her and laughed.

"But you have plenty of money," said Betty, not understanding why this business opportunity was being allowed to slip by.

"Yes we have the money, but diamond dealers are very cautious. This dealer doesn't even work in Hatton Garden, for fear of someone finding out what his deals are." Terry shot a sideways glance at Sandra, then smiled back at the two women.

"I can't believe you are going to let the deal pass by, just because you can't get around to transferring the money? You said yourself in the report, how much profit it could make, once the stones are re-sold?" Margaret looked around the table to see if she was the only one to spot this flaw.

"We don't have the time to draw out that much cash from our safety deposit box. It needs too many meetings and signatures. Quite frankly it's not worth it. If someone is stupid enough to write any of it down, we might have to explain it to the taxman. And I think we are agreed that none of us wants that?" Martin folded his book of accounts and tried to draw the meeting to a close.

"Wait! We'll do it!" Margaret held a fiery look in her eye as she held back the people at the table.

"What? You realise this is one million in cash?" Terry looked at her with a shocked expression, as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, I know. Betty, you are in with me aren't you?"

"Of course I am. We can't let an opportunity like this pass us by. Sandra, you said you wanted to help us make some money, and here it is."

"Well if you two are sure, I don't want to stop you, but remember this is a lot of cash to carry about." Sandra shook her head as if she was not happy with the plan. "He insists on cash, understandable, for these things are coming from Sierra Leone, so no questions asked."

"We can get it," insisted Margaret.

"One million is a lot of money to carry about. No matter how tight you pack it, you'll still need two suitcases. Can you arrange that?"

"We can get the money between us. Our husbands will make sure we do, after all, who could pass up an opportunity like this? You said yourself that you could resell the stones for twice what you paid for them. This is our chance." The two women were thrilled with the thought of making so much money and Martin began to put the wheels in motion.

Soon things were all arranged and the women sat together to make sure they had covered all aspects of the plan. Charles just looked from the window at the pleasure cruiser travelling the Thames and wondered where it would all end. What really worried him, was how Sandra planned to swindle the women. Up till now, it looked like they would get away with making a million pounds for themselves. After all, the stones were not stolen, as they came from a very reputable source, and even the money was coming from a legitimate account. So where was the catch?

The truth soon dawned on Charles on the day of the handover.

Charles escorted Sandra as they visited her personal diamond broker. The men were friendly and confident, as they loaded a large container of diamonds into the leather suitcase, which Charles carried as they left the vault.

"So what's the plan? You've told me so much up till now, so how are you planning on tricking Margaret and Betty?" Charles walked slowly as they passed through the world of stainless steel and smoked glass.

"You'll find out in time Charlie. As far as my two friends are concerned, these stones are coming from an unknown diamond dealer. They have no idea that they really come from our own firm, so they will think they are just taking part in a simple transaction. These things go on every day. Just hold on tight to that case, and don't even think about running off with it, for then I would be very disappointed, and we want to stay friends don't we?" Sandra walked through the door onto the street and got back into the Rolls Royce waiting at the curb.

"Where would I go? You can travel anywhere in time to find me, so what's the point in running?" Charles joined her on the back seat, and they set off for the next part of the plan.