Out of Sync

Chapter 1

The Breeze family lived in Middlesbrough, a reasonably large industrial town in the North East of England, not far from some of the most beautiful coastlines in the country, which provide a western boundary for the icy North Sea, and equally not far from the outstanding countryside of the North Yorkshire Moors. Once at the heart of the country’s steel and shipbuilding industries, in 1990 the town lay in the shadow of the many chemical works which had developed into large and sprawling industries along its borders. Their chimneys churned colourful clouds of smoke into the skies, which cast an odour across the town such that you could taste the toxicity hanging in the early morning air. Middlesbrough was moving steadily forward towards the 21st century and benefited from a considerable amount of environmental investment, particularly in the town centre, where upmarket shops were attracting consumers with larger disposable incomes, and on the riverbanks of the Tees, where fish had been reintroduced and sustained cleanup operations had made the areas pleasant once more. In 1990 Middlesbrough was probably best known for its Premiership Football Team, however, one of the town’s most redeeming features was its location. The breathtaking countryside surrounding the town was never more than a fifteen minute drive away.

Mark was Charlie’s father, a policeman working at Middlesbrough Police Station. He had been in the Force for fifteen years and held the rank of Detective Sergeant. He was good at his job and he worked hard. He was a local man born and bred in the town, and from a family of police officers; he had followed in the footsteps of his father and grandfather in joining Cleveland Constabulary as soon as he had left college with some reasonable A level results. Mark was a modern copper, a thinker and a man with high ideals about the community he served, with an unshakeable focus on what was right and what was wrong. He had no grey areas. He was a tall man with appealing features in an interesting face. His large nose was somehow endearing and had recently begun to support a pair of rimless glasses; ‘A sign of age creeping up on him’ he told his friends. With a full head of black hair, which he wore longer than most of his colleagues, he had an appearance younger than his thirty three years.

Diana was Charlie’s mother. She had held a number of local waitressing jobs, before finding her way to manage Teesside University’s Student's Union Canteen. She enjoyed her job and the students loved her. Diana was a local too, having been brought up in Marton, one of the suburbs of Middlesbrough. Diana had short blonde hair, a pretty face and a tiny frame. She had inherited her mother’s stature and she stood five feet and two inches against Mark’s six feet and three inches. They were totally mismatched in height, but an exact match in love and life. All was good with Diana and Mark, except that they desperately wanted a child. They had decided to wait for the right moment in their life before trying for a family. Unfortunately their moment could not have been more wrong.

Money wasn’t a great problem for Diana and Mark, nor was it in abundance. They had been careful and had put savings by for the day when they would be blessed with a son or daughter. Charlie came along in the winter of 1990. It was a short labour, and Diana found the birth to be easier than she had thought it would be. Charlie was not particularly large when he was born, at six pounds and seven ounces. Just one thing seemed irregular during the birth, when Charlie made a peculiar noise in the delivery room. Mark, Diana, the midwife and the doctor, who was also present at the birth, will never forget that noise made by Charlie as he first entered this world.

A cry was anticipated, perhaps a strong one, perhaps a weak one. Any cry is welcome at the moment of birth. The cry came sure enough, and on time, just as the opportunity to gasp at air arose. What stunned them all, though, was the juddering repetition, which occurred in the middle of it. The noise was like a CD which was stuck in mid-play and repeated rapidly five or six times. It lasted for less than a second but the effect was so startling that it caused a moment of stunned silence among the adults in the room as they exchanged wide eyed glances. Mark looked quickly towards the doctor in the hope of seeing some reassurance but all he caught was the confused momentary exchange in the eyes of both the doctor and the midwife. This strange cry was very quickly followed by a stream of conventional cries, and the midwife quickly resumed business as usual. Charlie was weighed, airways checked and cleared, given a quick clean after some attention to his umbilical cord, and in time honoured fashion he was very soon in the arms of his exhausted mother with his doting father hovering above. The juddering cry was almost forgotten. It was briefly mentioned in the midwife’s incident log of the birth which read weight good, airways clear, unusual cry upon birth – no cause for concern.

The cry was not completely forgotten, as it would feature in stories throughout the lives of Diana and Mark whenever peculiar tales of births were discussed with friends. What no one would ever do would be to attribute it to the unusual, tragic and in some cases quite remarkable events to follow in the life of Charlie Breeze.

Chapter 2

Charlie was an attractive baby who followed all of the usual developmental patterns to be expected of a child. His coordination was normal, not outstanding, his intelligence was in the average banding, as were his eyesight and hearing. Charlie was declared by the nurse in the Health Clinic to be a perfectly normal and healthy boy and Diana and Mark were two very happy and extremely proud parents who doted on their only child.

What nobody knew was that Charlie was the only person on earth at that time to be out of synchronisation with the Eternal Clock in a way which was expanding, in tiny increments, by the minute. Differences in Charlie would soon start to present themselves.

Diana gave up work, which the family could only just afford, to live the dream of being a full time mother to Charlie. Every minute of her day revolved around him, ‘and why not?’ she thought. Mark enjoyed his time at home with both of them. He made every effort not to get held behind at work processing prisoners or dealing with matters which could wait until he was next on duty.

The intense relationship which built up between mother and baby made Diana more aware of Charlie’s development than she might have been as a working mum. Charlie loved to watch his mobiles and play with his many soft toys. He was now six months old and his development was good. Diana was no different to any other doting mum, and in her eyes, her baby was very special; she was inwardly content that in spending so much time with him she knew all of his little quirks in detail. She adored him and everything about him. Only such an attentive mother would notice the moments when Charlie would, ‘drift’. This was the only way she could describe it. His attention would cease from whatever was happening, whether it was feeding, or sharing a laugh with his mother, or crying at some discomfort or annoyance, he would appear to momentarily freeze and drift. It was always a moment of complete calm for Charlie and it appeared to be some kind of internal reflection time for him. At first Diana was concerned and spoke to the Health Visitor about it. She was reassured that Charlie was well, healthy and normal but she later became intrigued as she caught this moment more and more. It was a private moment for Charlie and not one which he shared at all with his mother. In their intense relationship it was the moment when Diana felt least in tune with him, as he entered an internal world where he was alone and thoughtful.

Diana could not possibly have known what was actually happening during this time. This was Charlie’s ‘catch up time’, and the reflection was caused by his mind working through thoughts and emotions as he experienced feelings which were unusual to him even in his early years of development. What neither Charlie nor Diana knew at this stage was that the gap between Charlie’s life clock and the Eternal Clock was approaching one eighth of a second. Charlie’s thought processes were already almost one eighth of a second ahead of all of the occurrences in his tiny life.

****

Diana and Mark were enjoying an evening in front of the TV. They were sharing a bottle of their favourite Pinot Grigio and catching up on the day’s events.

‘There’s just that one little quirk of Charlie’s that worries me sometimes Mark’, Diana sighed heavily.

‘I know what you’re going to say love’ Mark said, ‘did you see it again today?’

‘Yes, and that’s the fourth time in two weeks’ (what Diana didn’t know was that it had actually become a daily occurrence which she would often not witness because her attention was not on Charlie at the time he was ‘reflecting’) ‘he was eating his breakfast and we were laughing at the mess he had made on his face, when he stopped looking at me and looked right through me, at nothing’. Diana had recounted such events to Mark on several occasions now and Mark always listened intently. ‘He looked like he was deep in thought and as usual it went on for about ten seconds, but it felt like forever. I gave him a wave in front of his face but I don’t think he could even see me. I had to give Jenny at the clinic a call’

‘Oh not again love, they’ll think you’re losing your grip. I’ll bet they’re still not worried’ Mark too was a little concerned that Diana might be losing perspective on this apparently insignificant event.

‘Well, no they’re not, but they’ve never seen it, they just hear it from me, and I know I must be starting to sound mad but I’m not. It is strange and it’s not wind like they keep telling me. Anyway, Jenny said that she would come over tomorrow and have a good look at Charlie to make sure that he’s doing OK, so it will be nice to see her and we’ve got lots to talk about’. Diana was now back on track and was looking forward to Jenny’s visit. She really liked Jenny who had been her midwife throughout her pregnancy, and Jenny had a real interest in Diana and Charlie. Sometimes she would overrun several appointments because they chatted for so long, mostly about babies, but often they just talked like friends.

Chapter 3

A year passed. Charlie was now eighteen months old. Diana could not believe the speed at which time was passing, and how quickly Charlie was getting bigger and more capable. She was a member of the local Mother and Toddlers’ Group, and she enjoyed her mornings drinking coffee with her circle of friends, while the children played with the building blocks and soft toys scattered around the room at the Community Hall, which was just a short walk around the corner from their home.

Charlie had made some great friends too, and was particularly fond of another child of eighteen months by the name of Lizzie. Lizzie had a fire, she was alert and mischievous and Charlie enjoyed this so much. On arrival at the group each day his eyes would light up to see all of his friends gathered, and those arriving. He would enjoy all of their interactions and play, but most of all he loved to play with Lizzie.

Diana always had an eye on Charlie’s size, movement capabilities, alertness and social skills in comparison with the other children there. She would mentally reassure herself each day that Charlie was in the average weight and size range of the group, that he was as capable with the play materials as the others and that he was able to ‘fit in’ with the group. She was right, he was perfect – size, interaction and alertness. Nothing remarkable, except in Diana’s eyes of course, but equally nothing to be concerned about.

‘Diana! Diana! Come quick, it’s Charlie!’ came the high-pitched yell from the Community Hall playroom. It was Annabel, one of the other mums. Diana was in the kitchen clearing away the coffee cups and chatting with some of her friends when she heard the shout. Diana did not think, she acted on instinct, dropping the coffee cup in her hand; it smashed to the floor as she spun around and rushed into the playroom. Other children had started crying at the reaction of the screaming mum, Annabel, who was confused and distressed by what she was seeing. Two of the other mums had sprinted next door to the Health Clinic to see if a nurse or doctor was available, and Diana dived to the floor to where Charlie lay in one of his ‘moments of reflection’. Eyes glazed and frozen, he had actually fallen from a sitting position and onto his back where his head had banged against the laminate wood floor. It was this thud, followed by the lack of movement and vacant stare, which had caused the alarm in Annabel. Diana was, of course, familiar with the state in which Charlie was found, but she was concerned at his fall. No sooner had Diana reached Charlie’s side than he was out of the trance and was reaching his arms out for his mother’s embrace. Charlie was usually very calm on leaving his reflective state, but the chaos around him, with all of the attention, running mums and Annabel now in tears, caused Charlie to burst into tears at the alarm he was sensing.

Things were calming down as Jenny came running in followed by the two other mums and another nurse from the clinic. Jenny was instinctively drawn towards Diana and Charlie who were now becoming the zone of peacefulness in the room as Charlie was soothed by his mum. The other nurse rushed to Annabel and helped to calm the situation. All of the mums and dads were now cradling their own children who had each sensed the tension in the room, and had almost all started crying, and had become needy for their parent’s attention.

Once things had settled down, the coffee morning still had thirty minutes left and the parents all agreed that the children, now calmed, should enjoy their friends’ company until the end of the session. Normality resumed, and Diana took the opportunity to chat with Jenny over what had taken place and to establish whether Charlie was OK. Charlie was playing happily with his friends.

Charlie sat playing with his toys on the floor with Lizzie. They had an assortment of playthings around them. The air in the room was heavy with the conversations of the adults, and the babbling and laughter of the fifteen children all busily building, colouring and organising. The small room presented a safe environment for the children, and the parents formed barriers with their seats ensuring that there was no danger of a child escaping from the area where they were playing. What no-one in the room noticed during this period of play, was when Charlie left his place on the floor and toddled across the room, doing nothing unusual, dragging a large soft cushion behind him. He placed the cushion against the wall which formed one of the boundaries of the play area, and then returned to Lizzie. No sooner had he sat down than an alarmed parent ran across to her son, Tommy, who was lying on the floor near to where Charlie had left the cushion, he was nursing his head and wailing in distress. His mum lifted him up and comforted him. It was nothing serious.

Charlie didn’t see the fall, nor the commotion behind him as he played with his building blocks. Nobody saw the chain of events which began when Charlie placed the cushion against the wall. Tommy was running across the room seconds later, lost his balance and crashed headfirst into the cushion, which appeared to have been abandoned in the very spot where Tommy had fallen. Tommy was shaken but not injured thanks to his soft landing. He was given some cuddles from his mother, and was soon enjoying the last minutes of the play session with his friends.

Jenny had to return to the clinic and her busy schedule of appointments, after a quick chat with Diana, but she agreed that they would meet up for lunch in the park following the coffee morning.

Chapter 4

‘There must be an explanation’ Diana demanded of Jenny ‘of course I’m afraid of knowing the truth in case it actually is my worst fear’. The two women strolled in the park enjoying the warm sun.

Diana described how she feared that Charlie’s moments of absence might indicate the presence of a brain tumour, based on her own research, such is her nature to do so.

‘Charlie, does not have any indicators which I consider show signs of a brain tumour – I’d stake my career on it’ Jenny said confidently, ‘But you need to know for sure, for your own peace of mind. How about if I make sure that little Charlie here gets an appointment this afternoon? Listen,’ Jenny made sure that Diana recognised the sincerity of her comments, ‘this is not going to show a brain tumour. It is going to prove to you that Charlie here is a perfect little boy, as well as being a little stunner’ She tweaked Charlie’s nose and he chuckled. ‘Are you with me?’

‘I am Jenny, you know I am, and I want to be sure that I am doing the best I can for Charlie’ Diana was interested in hearing what Jenny had in mind. ‘Hey listen, you must be starving, look let’s have a bite to eat before your lunch break is over, I’ve bought us some sandwiches’

‘Great’ said Jenny, searching her handbag for her mobile phone, ‘you get them ready and I’ll make a quick call and see if we can get that appointment for today. You need to register with a new doctor now that Dr Stevens has just retired’

Jenny walked away from Diana and made the call in private; Diana was reassured and set the lunch for all three of them out on the park bench.

‘Hi, Dr Shimming, It’s Jenny………………. I’m well thank you but I need a favour…………. It’s a friend and patient of mine at the clinic……… no you don’t know her, but I’m really worried about her son……………….. eighteen months…………. Yes I delivered him ……………. fine, and all within the above average range …………….. he has moments of fixated staring, glazed expression ………… about ten seconds ………………… observed maybe two times a week but might be more frequent ………………. just about half an hour ago at playgroup. Caused a bit of a stir ………………… well he was sitting when it happened and he actually fell over backwards and hit his head on the floor …………… wood ………….. slight reddening, nothing serious …………….. no the fixated stare continued for another five seconds or so as he lay on the floor ……………… fine. He cried a little, I think because of the noise caused by the other mothers in a panic. He got a cuddle off mum and was ok……………. Fine, I’m having lunch in the park with them both now ……. Well mum’s done some research…………… yes she’s convinced it might be ………… nothing, no, checks out great otherwise, lovely baby …………..Yes she was with Dr Stevens…………. Dr Shimming you’re a star, I owe you one. I’ll let her know now, she’ll be there ………… Diana, Diana Breeze…… Charlie ….. Take care now …….. bye’

Jenny broke a great big smile as she returned to Diana.

‘Is that a sign of good news?’ Diana asked as she spotted Jenny’s expression.

‘It’s a sign of very good news. Dr Shimming, best in the business, will see you at 2 p.m., with Charlie. His surgery is in the town centre, so you’d better not hang about’

Diana decided that to dwell on Charlie’s condition over lunch with one of her favourite people who she doesn’t see enough of was not appropriate. She put it to one side and they spent the twenty minutes they had before Diana had to leave, gossiping and catching up on some much needed conversation.

****

Diana arrived at Dr Shimming's surgery at 1:50 p.m. and waited patiently to be invited in at 2:10 p.m. Dr Shimming was straight out of the same mould as Jenny. He had a demeanour which immediately commanded respect, yet conveyed trust. He was older than Diana had expected, maybe sixty years old, she guessed, unknowingly adding five years to his actual age, and his appearance was stereotypical of a doctor of his years. He wore green corduroy trousers, with a checked shirt buttoned up to the collar where he had an untidily knotted thin green tie. On the back of his chair hung a crumpled tweed jacket. All of his clothing had a very worn look about it. He was clean shaven and wore a pair of half lens glasses, which he peered over. His complexion was rugged and healthy looking. He had thinning grey hair, which was neatly combed back and smartly cut, not short, just resting on his collar.

The office was aged but held an air of knowledge and experience, just as an old library does. Dr Shimming sat in a brown leather chair which had seen better days. The surgery was dull with a green desk lamp providing the majority of light in the room. The smell was very clinical, as expected, and the desk was littered with papers which, if they were in any kind of order, would require a