He is the kind of guy you would cross the road to avoid. The shambling, smelly old man pushing the shopping trolley full of newspaper and broken toys – talking to an imaginary friend.
Kids laugh at him, calling him names, ridiculing his army surplus clothes, his unkempt hair and the raggedy beard – he is the weirdy beardy, the nutter, he is the Colonel.
But this is no homeless vagrant, the Colonel has a large house on Churchill Avenue, much to the dismay of the neighbours whose neatly trimmed hedges have been grown high to hide the piles of useless junk stacked in his front garden. His house has been a magnet for the local children, rumours of what goes on inside have taken on a life of their own. Those brave enough to have ventured inside the habitually unlocked front door have reported of rooms full of useless tat, clothes and piles and piles of newspapers.
What no one knows is that the Colonel has a secret, sitting amongst the jumble and bric-a-brac that he has hoarded are Vestiges, special artefacts whose history can be used like a map to move back through time, or that he is a Watchman of the Oblivion Order and that he has been keeping a close eye on Josh for many, many years.