3. Secret Plans - 454 words - 9 tpe

Randolph steps out of the locker room as the match ends. A loss for the Citadelles.
“Not good enough,” he mutters to himself, his coat trailing behind him. “Not good enough at all.”
A black car, resembling a London Hackney Cab, rounds the corner, and stops, just as The Gentleman reaches the edge of the pavement, and he steps in, squatting into the back.
“Where to Guv?” asks The Driver in a thick Cockney accent, an unusual thing to hear in Quebec, but not as unusual as the cab itself, seemingly plucked straight out of London.
“Home, for now.” answers Randolph, as he leans back into the seat and closes his eyes.
“Not good enough.” He repeats in his head “I have to improve. First home, to watch myself on replay, then research.”

Randolph opens his eyes and finds himself outside his house. As he approaches the door, it is opened by a man dressed in a sharp black suit, who says in a received English accent “Good evening sir.” as he bows his head. Randolph nods to The Butler, as he enters his study, and begins watching replays of his games, scrawling notes as he pays attention to his gameplay and where he went wrong. He shifts in his chair, stretching his arms and legs, and returns to studying.

Two hours later, The Butler arrives at the study. “Tea, sir?” he asks, his head once again bowed,
“Of course,” replies The Gentleman, his eyes staying fixed on his studies. “I need the energy to improve myself.” he flexes his fingers, as though curling them around a stick. “I cannot allow this to be how we are defeated.”
“Very well, sir.” responds The Butler, as he produces a cup of tea, to which he adds two teaspoons of sugar, and stirs. He leaves the cup on the desk next to The Gentleman and leaves the room.

Another three hours pass, as The Gentleman continues his studies. The sun long since set, and the cold, dark night set in. Randolph stands, stretching one last time. He turns to leave the room, and heads to the room at the back of the house.

The next day, Randolph takes a chartered jet to London Gatwick, where he is met by The Driver
“Back ‘ome, guv’nor?” he asks, in the familiar Cockney accent.
“Yes, thank you.” replies Randolph, as he sits back in the seat, and closes his eyes, picturing the images from the previous night. Some time later, the cab stops, and he opens his eyes to the familiar sight of Carter House. His home, and the place he will now spend the next few months preparing for his return to Canada. This time, far better prepared.