Just as Mike was racing out of his flat, the phone in the living room began to shrill. The last thin…

Tommy was just about to dash out of the flat when the shrill ring of the telephone echoed from the living room. The last thing he wanted was to go backhis mates were already waiting outside. Only minutes before, hed dropped his football, and ahead of him lay the decisive match behind the estate. Tommy lingered in the doorway, hoping the ringing would finally stop, but the phone was relentless, its clamour persistent and urgent.

Who on earth could that be now? he grumbled, not bothering to take off his trainers as he hurried back inside.

He snatched up the receiver, certain he was about to be given another errand by his mum, or face the usual grilling from gran: had he eaten after school, washed his hands properly, the sort of things adults obsessed over.

Hullo? he muttered, hardly hiding his annoyance.

Hello! Tommy? came the voice of an unfamiliar man.

My parents arent in, he replied sharply, and was about to hang up, figuring the call was for his mum or dad, when the strangers voice stopped him.

Tommy, listen, please. Dont put the phone down. This is really important, the voice paused, then pressed on. You wont believe me, but I beg you to hear me out. Grab a pen and paper and write down what I saythere isnt much time. Iwell, Im you. From the future. I know it sounds mad, but please, just do as I ask. Its really important. Do you have that pen and paper now?

Tommy, mindful of the manners drilled into him, hesitated. Besides, gran always said it was no use arguing with foolshear them out, then do what you like anyway. And this bloke was clearly off his rocker. Or maybe he was just a prankster. He and his mates sometimes phoned random numbers and asked, Do you have running water? Great, fill your whole bathwere bringing round an elephant to give it a wash. Silly, but harmless fun. Maybe this was the same sort of thing.

Got it, Tommy answered solemnly. So, in the future, do I have a TARDIS?

A TARD Tommy, Im not mucking about! The man caught himself. Listen, if you do what I say and write it all down carefully, youll have more than a TARDIS. Youll have an iPhone, a car, anything you want.

Alright, Im writing, Tommy replied, glancing impatiently at the window and picking his nose absent-mindedly. His mates would be losing patience.

Best to get this nonsense over with quickly, especially as this future voice claimed he was pressed for time.

The caller rattled off dates and years, told him to avoid some Sarah from the year below, and to steer well clear of a dodgy firm called Barings. Something about buying American dollars and selling them, then buying again, something called Black Wednesday, fruit machines and casinos, Bitcoin, property, and a load of gibberish Tommy barely understood.

All written down? the voice asked.

All down, Tommy lied.

Im counting on you, mate. Guard that scrap of paper like its treasure. Show no one, and whatever you do, dont lose it, said the voice, then there was only the broken drone of the disconnected call.

Tommy chucked the receiver down and made for the green. That evening, when his mum and dad got in from work, he remembered the call and told them about the mysterious future Tommy.

Never speak to strangers on the phone, his dad replied firmly. Especially ones yammering on about buying dollars. Next time, threaten to ring the police and hang up.

Exactly, agreed his mum. And who wants American dollars, anyway? What would you do with them?

***

Time passed, and Tommy forgot all about the strange phone call. Life washed away things like Black Wednesdays and Bitcoins. School took over, and boyhood worries made the outlandish advice a distant memory. In Year 10, a girl moved to their school, and almost at once Tommy liked her, despite her being in another form. Notes exchanged, brief walks homebefore long, something more began to blossom.

After his National Service, Tom and Emily got married. The heady glow of the early 90s, when dreams had seemed so close, soon wore off, replaced by disappointment and bitter reality. Surviving one economic crisis seemed only to lead them into the jaws of the next. Hed hoped to buy Emily smart boots like the advert had promised, but in the end there wasnt enough for basic slippers. The pressure from the mortgage on their tiny flat mounted

***

One afternoon, Tom found himself sitting on a bench in the park. He pulled a can of beer from his shopping bag, opened it carefully, and took a measured sip. Fishing out his battered pack of cigarettes, he lit one, his gaze wandering over strangers and surroundings without really seeing.

He didnt notice the elderly gentleman whod parked himself next to him, wearing round spectacles and clutching a timeworn briefcase.

Mind if I sit here? the old man asked politely, already having made himself comfortable.

Tom glanced briefly at him, nodded, and raised his can for another drink.

Bit of a grey day, isnt it? the man remarked, as if to no one in particular.

Like most of life, Tom replied.

Funny, though, isnt it? The man turned, studying Toms face. Its as if grey days only arrive with age. Childhoods always goldenspring runs are rivers and boats, summer is fresh-cut grass and river coolness, autumn dazzles with its colours, winter crunches underfoot. Not a single grey day back then.

Children dont have real worries, Tom said thoughtfully. Its worries that make the world grey. Did I ever think, as a kid, life would turn out this way?

Almost without knowing why, Tom started sharing his disappointments with the strangerhow every scheme to get ahead ended in disaster. Barings, fruit machines on every corner, whatever he invested in, somehow he was always left worse off. Advertisers promised instant happiness, and he ended up with long-term debt. Emily had eventually left him, taking only the new bloke and her suitcase for a fresh start in Spain. Now Tom survived on odd jobs, just about making it to payday each month.

But Ive got a new idea, Tom said with a glimmer of hope. Saw this courseits called Millionaire Mindset. Bloke teaches you how to invest in crypto, says you can make five hundred percent in a week. Must be bulletproof. He took another drag. Just goes to show, I was doing it all wrong before.

My dear fellow, the old man said, adjusting his glasses. Tell me, whats your profession?

Workings for mugs, Tom replied. You have to make money, not earn it. If only you could know the sure bets in advance.

For a while neither spoke. Tom dreamed of incredible windfalls from crypto exchanges, while the old man seemed lost in thought.

So, you believe having knowledge of the future is enough to fix your life? the man asked at last.

Absolutely, Tom nodded.

You interest me, said the old man, eyes twinkling. Would you mind trying my device? With that, he unfastened his briefcase and pulled out an ancient rotary phone. You see, theres a theory: time isnt linear or cyclical, but all at once.

I dont follow, Tom admitted.

The man took off his glasses, rubbing his forehead. Theres no past or futureits all happening at once. Right now, you exist at every point in your lifepast, present, futureall at this moment.

Still lost, Tom said.

No matter, the old man aimed the phone towards him. This phone lets you ring yourself in the past, forty years ago. I tried it myselfbit unsettling, phoning young me to ask, What year is it? Odd thing, I dont recall that happening when I was a boy. Cant quite work out if present repeats, or if you change things.

Tom thought the old gent was batty, but on the off chance Well, stranger things were happening all the time, especially online; the people preaching these things seemed to have plenty of money. Maybe they really did know something.

All right, lets do it, Tom said bravely.

Do you remember your childhood number? the man asked. And were you home forty years ago at this time?

Tom recited the old home phone, still etched in his memory. At this hour, forty years ago, hed just have got in after school. Gingerly, he picked up the heavy phone, ready to dial.

Youll only have a minute or two. Batterys weak, the old man warned him. I cant be responsible for any consequences, mind.

Ill be quick, Tom said and spun out the number; the sound of ringing filled his ear. Come on, Tommy, lets set things straight once and for all.

Hed almost given up, thinking no one in the past would answer, when suddenly a childs grumpy voice barked down the line.

Hullo?

Hello! Tommy? Toms palms sweated with nerves.

My parents arent in, young Tommy replied. Tom needed to act fast.

Tommy, listen to me. Please dont hang up, its really important. Tom faltered, unsure what to say, but pushed on. You probably wont believe me, but listen. Find a pen and write down everything I say. Im you, but from the future. Theres not much time. Have you got a pen and paper?

Got them, young Tommy said. Do I have my own TARDIS in the future?

Never mind that now Tom bit back his irritation, reminding himself he was speaking to his younger self. This isnt a joke. If you listen closely, youll have your iPhone and more.

Im writing, the boy promised patiently.

Tom spilled out everything he rememberedhow, after National Service, he landed a good job, but youth and fun with Emily consumed all their money. Look, avoid Emily! Shell only break your heart. Ill teach you, and youll have your pick of girlfriends. Buy US dollars with every pay cheque!

He warned about Black Wednesday, gave the date to sell off, to buy again after, stay clear of fruit machines and casinos, and told him to invest in one if possible to guarantee years of income. Steer clear of Barings. Buy up property while it was cheap, and in 98, in August, swap everything back to dollars. In 2009Bitcoin, and as much as possible. Whatever advice he could squeeze into the brief window, Tom delivereda crash course in the wisdom of hindsight, to try shaping a better future for himself.

All down? Tom asked, his voice tight with hope.

All down, said young Tommy.

Im counting on you. Guard that paper like its a treasure map. Never show anyone, never lose it. The line cut before Tom could say more.

***

Of course, young Tommy hadnt written down a word. He waited for the madman to stop babbling, then put down the receiver and ran outside to join his friends. If it was a prank, it was a boring one.

Best tell Mum and Dad about the weird call, just in case, Tommy thought as he darted out onto the pitch bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

***

Sometimes, the most valuable lesson isnt knowing what to do with your life, but learning that no advice can spare us from choices that shape who we become. Some things we must discover ourselvesmistakes and all. Only then does the sunshine of childhood truly linger, hidden behind the grey, waiting for us to remember.