BooksBarbecue
Back All About Us Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for All About Us
  3. About the Author
  4. Note to Readers
  5. Dedication
  6. Prologue
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  45. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  46. Chapter Forty
  47. Chapter Forty-One
  48. Chapter Forty-Two
  49. Chapter Forty-Three
  50. Chapter Forty-Four
  51. Chapter Forty-Five
  52. Chapter Forty-Six
  53. Chapter Forty-Seven
  54. Chapter Forty-Eight
  55. Chapter Forty-Nine
  56. Chapter Fifty
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgements
  59. Author Q&A with Tom Ellen
  60. Extract
  61. Will
  62. Will
  63. About the Publisher

But no: there’s no sign of him. I guess his job – whatever the hell it was – is done.

‘You haven’t seen that old guy anywhere, have you?’ I ask Harv absently as I scan the bar again. ‘The one from last night?’

Harv frowns. ‘Which old guy?’

‘You know: the old guy with the beard.’ I hold up my wrist. ‘That weird bloke who gave me this watch.’

Harv shakes his head slowly. ‘You’ve lost me there, Benjamin. You weren’t even wearing that watch yesterday, were you? And we definitely didn’t bump into any weird old guys with beards.’

‘But you saw me talking to him …’ I tail off as Harv’s frown deepens. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t remember our time-jumping 2010 house call, but it’s been less than twenty-four hours since he saw the watch-seller with his own eyes, in this very pub, in the real world.

Unless …

Harv stands up. ‘Come on, man. Let’s get back to mine so I can make you some coffee. You’re obviously more pissed than I thought. The only non-existent bearded bloke you should be talking about today is Santa Claus. Or Jesus, I suppose.’

I stand up with him, but my head is swimming.

I don’t remember Daff coming home. I don’t remember coming down from the attic. I don’t remember doing the tree or the presents. And now Harv doesn’t remember the watch-seller from last night, despite the fact that I am still wearing the watch.

What the hell is going on?

Harv pushes open the door, and I take one last look back at the bar before I follow him out into the freezing night air.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

We step outside the pub to see that the little square across the road is packed full of people. They spill out into the street on both sides, blocking our route.

At the centre of them, right in the middle of the square, a group of carol singers is belting out an enthusiastic rendition of ‘God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen’, and the crowd is bellowing along with gusto, sounding full to the brim with both festive cheer and copious mulled wine.

‘Here we go,’ Harv says, nudging my shoulder with his. ‘This is exactly what we need – a bit of Christmas spirit.’

I’m about to protest – joining in with a load of drunk carollers is about the last thing on earth I feel like doing right now – but Harv is already crossing the road, making his way through the crowd towards them.