Chapter Text
Manchester, Saturday 31st 1921.
It’s still dark outside when the alarm clock switches on and jazzy music fills the room. Big red blinking numbers tell the occupant it's seven o'clock and he needs to get up.
Jacob White throws back his bed covers, stretches his limbs and switches on his table lamp, an iron stylized figure of a male body, on his oak bedside table. His eyes sweep around the room from the still closed the floor-to-ceiling green velvet curtains, to his oak desk in the corner by the window, the cast iron fireplace with thistle ornaments and green decorative tiles, the two crème coloured velvet high-backed oak arm chairs and long piled rug and oak small coffee table, the wardrobe and the door to his en-suite bathroom and the seven renaissance paintings along its wall.
He swings his legs over the side of his bed, slips on his slippers and walks to the bathroom - tastefully decorated with green tiles - relieves himself, takes of his silk pyjamas for a quick shower . While he shaves he looks in the mirror at his light coloured skin, light brown eyes with flecks of gold in them and brown almost black hair and moustache. His mother is Indian for his father Colonel White was in the army and stationed there before his retirement. After he left the Army he ran the head post office in Doncaster. Then his thoughts wander to the fact that he still hasn’t told his parents about the child he fathered by the Irish wife of the owner of the Curry House on the Banbury Road in Oxford. Ten years ago it was, when he started university in the summer of 1911. He can’t imagine it going down well. He was drunk and she was lonely. It happened just the once. But it had been enough. The owner Yaser had been so happy a son was born on that cold morning in January. Zayn, as the boy was called, had been born prematurely. His birthday almost two weeks from now. When he is in Oxford to see his friends he always stops by the Curry House to see him, even though Zayn doesn’t know who he really is. To the boy he is just another customer of his dad's restaurant. But Jacob always makes sure to say hello to Patty, the boy's mother.
When he is back in his room his curtains have been drawn back and his full English breakfast (an fried egg, baked beans, tomatoes and sausages) with tea, toast and marmalade, has arrived. It has been put on the table at the window opposite his desk, courtesy of Mrs Carter (whose husband died in the war; the reason she has been taking in lodgers).
He gets dressed in a crisp white button down shirt, moss green tie and dark grey tree-piece- suit, dark green socks and his beloved satin slippers, before sitting down for his morning meal. While he eats, he checks his messages on his phone.
After the meal he goes with his briefcase and phone in hand down two flights of stairs to the little hallway. Here he changes into his dress shoes, a pair of mogany leather oxfords, before he picks up his dark overcoat and Bowler hat from the coat rack. And with his briefcase in his hand and mobile device in his ear and phone in his pocket he leaves the red brick Victorian house on Piccadilly. He walks past the tobacco shop on the ground floor on his way to his place of work, solicitors office Harding & Reed in Deansgate, via Portland Street and Princess Street. The streets are busy with electric cars, electric trams and double-decker buses and a lone Zeppelin is gliding overhead. The streetlights casting yellow glow and large shadows on the shiny wet streets.
It’s just gets light outside when he reaches the office and the streetlights switch off automatically just before he enters the building.
In the hall on his way to his work office, he greets his secretary, who gives him his iternery for the day
He is distracted during his half day at work, thinking about his son and whether he should buy him a present for his birthday or not. And his friend, Drew, who he is going to see for lunch today. Drew who came back with him from Berlin after Christmas to visit some relatives and a New year’s party in town.
They have lunch together in a Tea House on Richmond Street. Dark and cosy.
Afterwards they go to see a matinee performance of a play in which Bernard Gay has a starring role. Bernard is a very good friend of Jacob and he goes to his dressing room after the show. Bernard congratulates Jacob with birthday and they exchange new year’s wishes.
Jacob takes Drew back to his place at half past three. For a drinks and listening to some music and a tumble in his expensive silk sheets. He lets Drew out two hours later in his dressing gown.
Back upstairs, he packs his bag with a few changes of clothes and a pyjama, as he going to see his parents. He doesn’t plan on staying long, he never does. He doesn’t like his family very much, especially not his cousins. All but one are married with children and they always ask him when he is going to do the same. His only sibling, his sister, lives with her husband in America.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes Jacob walks to the station, where he buys a ticket and has a quick bite to eat at the station’s dining room before walking to his train.
Jacob walks along the platform where the train to Doncaster has just arrived, to the first class carriage at the front. All the six seat compartments of this section of the train have doors on both sides. Jacob opens the last door of the carriage. The yellow electric light casts shadows on the soft dark red velvet bench of this only tree seat compartment. He places his bags on the dark brown wooden overhead luggage rack and makes himself comfortable in the far corner. A few minutes before the train is scheduled to leave a woman gets in and with a polite ‘Good Evening Sir’ and ‘Good Evening Madam,’ she goes to sit in the other corner the seat between them stays empty. At a quarter past seven the conductor blows his whistle, the doors lock automatically and the train rolls swiftly out of the station.
At the next stop Sheffield the woman gets off. He doesn’t pay her much attention. He looks up however when he notices movement again, wanting to greet the new person, but all he sees is the silencer on the end of the barrel of a gun. He holds his arm for his face in a reflex to protect himself. The first bullet hits him in his left under arm, before the gun goes off two more times. One hits him in his left shoulder and the last and fatal one goes through his heart.
At Doncaster station his body is discovered by a passenger wanting to board the train.