Page 20 of Right Place, Right Time
‘I don’t think so,’ Adam says, taking the photographs from me and comparing them. ‘And definitely not two Archies who look exactly the same. Someone must have got it wrong. Maybe heisin fancy dress?’
‘That wouldn’t explain the horse and cart next to him, and all the other people in Victorian clothing in the background, would it? And here’s another odd thing – I’m not sure photography was even invented by 1850. Even if it was, it wouldn’t have been a common thing, and I highly doubt there would have been a photographer roaming the streets of Cambridge in 1850 using a portable camera – even an early prototype – and the end results would never have been as clear and sharp as this photo is.’
‘But why would someone write 1850 if it wasn’t?’ Adam asks. ‘It doesn’t make sense?’
‘Maybe your great-grandfather liked recreating scenes from different eras through Cambridge for some reason? Was he a bit of an eccentric, do you know?’
‘Not that I know of. But then I don’t know all that much about him, to be fair.’
‘I wonder if there are more hidden photos in the album?’ I say hopefully, turning the page over. To my delight, yet again behind some other smaller photos, we find another larger picture hidden between the two layers of the thick black page. ‘It’s exactly the same size as the last one,’ I tell Adam as I gradually uncover the picture bit by bit. ‘And it looks like the same man again.’
‘Where is he this time?’ Adam asks.
‘It’s Cambridge again. Down by the river – he looks like he’s about to go punting.’ Our mysterious Archieis this time wearing a striped blazer, a straw boater and pale trousers in the black-and-white photo. In his hand he’s holding a long punting pole. ‘He looks like he’s wearing twenties clothing this time. But it’s definitely him again.’
‘How can you tell?’ Adam looks at the latest photo.
‘Look just here,’ I say, pointing at Archie’s face. ‘He has a mole on his cheek. You could see it in the Victorian photo too. You can’t quite make it out in the 1939 photo because it’s much smaller, but on these big ones you can.’
‘Well spotted. You must have good eyesight; I can hardly see it.’
‘It’s definitely there. I’m convinced this is the same man. Does it say anything on the back this time?’
Adam turns over the photo. ‘Archie, The Backs, Cambridge, 1928. What’s the Backs?”
‘The Backs is what we call the river here in Cambridge where it runs along the back of the universities,’ I say.
Adam nods. ‘It looks real enough once more. But why take photos of yourself in all these different outfits? And why go to the trouble to mock up the backgrounds too. I mean, look at the girls in the punt behind him on this photo – they look just like flapper girls, don’t they?’
‘Their outfits are pretty accurate, yes, with their cloche hats and short hair. I should show these to Luca – he’d soon tell us if they are genuine outfits or not.’
‘Are there any more hidden photos?’ Adam asks. ‘Or is this it?’
We look through some more of the albums and find another four hidden photos – all taken from different eras, but all featuring the same man who, without doubt, looks exactly like Adam’s great-grandfather, Archie.
‘That’s six altogether,’ I say, laying them all out next to each other. ‘There’s something else that’s just occurred to me.’
‘What’s that?’ Adam asks, still looking over the photos.
‘If these photos are all of Archie, I wonder if it’s also the same person taking them?’
‘You mean the person holding the camera?’
‘Yes. Someone had to be taking the photos. Even if this is a hobby that your great-grandfather had, recreating different time periods for photographs, he must have had an accomplice. The selfie certainly wasn’t invented until mobile phones became popular, and there weren’t cameras around in the forties that could take a timed photo without a photographer.’
‘But why go to so much effort and then hide all the photos away in the albums like this if they were just a bit of fun?’ Adam looks over the photos again.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps he was embarrassed by them for some reason?’
‘And why are they all so big, when all the other photos of Archie are smaller? I’m sure it wasn’t common to get … what …’ Adam lifts one of the photos up. ‘A4-size photos as standard back then?’
‘Unless they were printed out by someone with their own photographic studio, or even just a darkroom,’ I reply, thinking about this. ‘If someone had access to their own developing process, the results could have been as large as they wanted them to be.’
‘True, I suppose.’ Adam sighs. ‘I guess we’ll never know now.’
‘Well, I’m sure he had fun taking the photos. I told you attics could be interesting places, didn’t I? I guess weought to get on with sorting through your grandfather’s things, though – time is getting on.’
‘Yes, I suppose we had.’ Adam glances at his watch. ‘But I could sit quite happily looking through these old photos all afternoon. I’ve never seen them before. Look at this one, for instance.’ He lifts another photo from a pile. ‘This is Archie again. It says on the back he’s in 1940 this time, which makes more sense. Cambridge again, and he’s with a woman.’
