Chapter 50

Chapter 50: The Story Now Comes To An End

I will need to introduce myself, I am Jennifer, Paul Smith's daughter. We are now 50 years into the future. My father died 10 years ago and left me with the task of finishing the Strange Tale of Slippery Jake. He never got round to finishing the story obviously. My father left me the task of completing it and trying to get it published. I copied over all his documents onto my computer. Yes, these are still being used now, but their power and versatility are way beyond anything that could have been imagined at the start of the 21st century. There was one constant where there seemed to be little real change, just continued refinement. That is of course the Bull Public House.

The role of the pub in London life has remained the same as well. Excellent cask-conditioned real ales are still produced there. The food served at the Bull is still of the highest standard. Jane's son, Beryl, and Sid's grandson, Lorenzo Rossi Higgins, was now the landlord. He had married. Yes, you guessed it, a bonnie lass from Glasgow Scotland, Ella McTavish. She was the landlady.

The 'Old Major's' grandson's. both retired merchant bankers, now took up the seats of their grandfathers at the Bull, on the same leather sofas. Even, the grandsons of Detective Chief Inspector John Higgins, and the sons of Inspectors, John Franks and William Russel were frequent visitors to the Bull. They were both police inspectors as well.

Much had happened. The CLOVID 19 virus had left the world more or less, but some more viruses had passed through. As my father reported, the world did get to grips with Global Warming. This was across the board from fusion power plus most houses had solar panels. Religious animosities diminished, but small wars continued, sadly. The 'macho male world leaders' found at the start of the 21st century had gone. World cooperation was the keyword now. Those meetings at the Bull and all the accompanying media attention had helped in all of this.

Yes, there were two new cats, Ginger and Sandy along with a new 'Wee Jock', a full white West Highland Terrier.

As for the Right Hon Jake Horatio Higginbottom, Old Slippery. There had been no sign of him for years. Pretty barmaids and handsome barmen were still the order of the day. Ella kept up Beryl's tradition of getting the barmaids to polish up Old Slippery's chairs. This did produce the odd rattle and blast of cold air. He was still present. However, for the most part, he was now a legend, a myth.

Things were to change spectacularly.