Seymour - "Lift going down, or up?" Pt3

Who: Seymour, Rosette
Where: Trapped in the broken lift
"Is this story boring you?" Seymour asked.
Rosette looked up and wiped her eyes. "Yes."
Seymour continued anyway.
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Who: Young Seymour, 17 years old
Where: Earth, England, West Yorkshire, in a grotty farmhouse between two lanes
of the M62
When: 24 years ago
"Seymour!" Snapped the child's father. "That is not a polite thing to say!
Apologise at once to Uncle Pete!"
"No. Look at him, look how bushy those eyebrows are. They're definite paedophile
eyebrows!"
Seymour's dad whacked him with a the latest newspaper, which really hurt as it
was was on an iPad (iPad 1, not an iPad 2, they were poor remember). "Sorry
Pete, I'm not sure what's got into the lad. He's just angry because we want him
to get a job in the SpaceCorps."
Seymour stomped his foot. "I want to be an antique dealer!" he shouted.
His Dad forced him to put on his coat, and practically pushed him out of the
door.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of him. He'll enjoy a day out in London." Said Pete
Tenshal.
They flew to London in Pete's ship. It was an old Blue Midget, one with the
tracks and no legs. It was completely battered and looked like it could barely
fly, but managed to get them to the capital city in one piece. They flew past
Big Ben, which had recently been converted to digital.
"This doesn't make sense." Said young Seymour as they parked up and got out.
"This is a Blue Midget type 388. It's a brand new model that came out less than
6 months ago. But for some reason this one looks like it's a hundred years old.
Pete started to look uncomfortable. "You must be mistaken." He said. "It's
just... had some wear."
"No ship that's only 6 months old can look that battered!" Said Seymour. And
what's this written on it?"
"Please, come this way." Pete said to try and distract him.
"It's got some words written on it, but you've painted over them." Said Seymour.
"It said Dwarf... something Dwarf."
"It's not important." Said Pete.
"Bl... bl... Dwarf." Said Seymour. "Was that the name of the ship you stole it
from?"
"I didn't steal it!" Said Pete.
"Yes you did." Said Seymour. "Space Corps regulation states that if a Jupiter
Mining Corps vessel is to be sold as a civilian vessel it needs to have a valid
tax disc, and I didn't see one on your windscreen.
"Bollocks." Said Pete. "Okay, I stole it." He admitted. "Can you come with me
now. I want to show you something."
Pete started pulling him towards a big crowd.
"Also there's something else peculiar about you." Seymour pointed out.
Pete sighed. "What?"
"That coat you're wearing, It only came on sale six months ago."
"So?"
"So I've seen you with my Dad for years, but you've always been wearing that
same coat."
"What can I say? I'm a trend setter!"
"No." Seymour shook his head. "You're a time traveller."
"What?!" Said Pete, and pulled Seymour away from the crowd that he'd been
leading him towards. "Is it that obvious?"
Seymour tapped his foot. "To a 17 year old with a good imagination, yes!"
Pete breathed heavily through clenched teeth. "This would have been easier if
you would just come with me and didn't ask any questions. I've got something to
show you."
"What is so important that you have to travel back in time to show me?"
"The thing I want to show you is something which will allow you to release your
true... potential."
"Potential?"
"Yes. You have this stupid idea that you want to be a wine taster..." Said
Potential.
<TBC>