The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue (10 page)

‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said shortly. ‘He comes and goes when it suits him. What d’you want him for, Ralf?’

‘You know me?’ Ralf tried for a friendly smile but succeeded only in looking like he had a nasty case of indigestion.

The girl pulled a face and dragged off her feathered headdress to reveal a mass of wildly curly red hair. ‘It’s me – Kat.’

‘K– Kathleen?’ Ralf stammered. ‘I know you!’

‘I haven’t changed that much since primary school, have I?’ she laughed. ‘I used to be in your class, when I could be bothered to go that is. Who are your friends?’

‘Oh, er, Leo, Valen, Seth and Alfie. Evacuees.’ The six exchanged nods. ‘And this is –’

Kathleen burst out laughing. ‘What’s the matter with you, Ralf? You know we’re camped in the Big House back field.’ She bobbed a curtsy at Gloria. ‘Hullo Miss.’

Gloria, who’d been fishing around in her bag, produced a sugar lump for the horse and stepped forward to pat him briskly and kiss his nose. ‘Good to see you back, Kat,’ she said. ‘If this Ambrose chap turns up, will you get word to me at the house?

‘I’ll come myself, Miss,’ Kat reassured her and with a nod and a wave to Ralf, she led the animal away. ‘Bye all!’

Gloria gave the horse a last pat on the rump and, straightening her blouse, turned back to Ralf. ‘Now what is he doing here?’ she asked, frowning.

The dashing army officer they’d seen earlier had ducked out of a nearby tent to join a portly looking Corporal. He glanced quickly left and right and then caught sight of Gloria. He strode over.

‘Miss Kingston-Hawke! Lovely!’ he said clicking his heels together.

‘You were supposed to be at the station ten minutes ago,’ said Gloria dryly.

The Captain slapped his free hand to his forehead and then struggled with his sling to look at his watch. ‘Am I late? Again! Ridiculous of me,’ he said grinning. He waved his good arm around. ‘I just couldn’t resist a look. Marvellous isn’t it?’

Gloria gave a wry smile. ‘Everyone. This is Captain Keen.’

‘And who’s this?’ Alfie murmured, as the red-faced soldier joined them. ‘Corporal Can’t-Wait-To-Get-Going?’

Ralf shot Alfie a look but Captain Keen seemed to think this hilarious. He actually slapped his thigh as he guffawed. ‘Rather!’ he chortled. ‘Raring to go aren’t we, Jenkins?’

‘Sir,’ the Corporal agreed with no enthusiasm.

Captain Keen thrust out his good hand for them all to shake. He gave Leo an especially enthusiastic one that made his teeth rattle. ‘Excellent to see one of our friends from Overseas!’ he gushed.

‘He’s from Southwark,’ Valen shot back defiantly.

The Captain took a step back, astonished. ‘Well I never! Marvellous!’ he said and then turned to Gloria again.

‘Well, you’d better go now hadn’t you?’ she said.

‘Quite,’ said Captain Keen, suddenly serious. ‘Wouldn’t do to keep your brother waiting any longer.’ He took Gloria’s hand and kissed it gallantly. ‘Until next time.’ He turned to Valen, executed a dazzling smile and clicked his heels once more. ‘Come along, Jenkins.’ The two men marched off.

Gloria gave Ralf a sly look. ‘There’ll be no need to mention that in your next letter to your brother, all right?’

Ralf blinked. She was the second person who’d mentioned he had a brother and as he stared at her the penny dropped. A brother! He had a brother! For a second he forgot everything else. He couldn’t help himself. He wondered desperately what the Muntons had meant by gone. Where had this brother gone and when would he be back? Wouldn’t it be great if Ambrose held back rescuing them long enough for Ralf to meet him, or see him at the
very least? There was a lot he hadn’t remembered about his life in this time and he was suddenly desperate to know everything.

Valen’s eyes followed Captain Keen and Jenkins as they left the field. ‘Wow!’

‘Astonishing isn’t he?’ said Gloria. ‘The whole thing hasn’t affected him at all. If anything he’s more cheerful now than before but I tell you, if I’d spent two nights down a denehole I’d be a gibbering wreck when they got me out, not cracking jokes like he was.’

‘Denehole?’ Alfie repeated.

‘Old chalk workings,’ said Gloria. ‘Ralf can tell you.’

‘What happened?’ Ralf asked.

Now it was Gloria’s turn to look puzzled. ‘You didn’t hear?’ she asked. ‘How odd. Well, you know the army has taken over all of the old Hodge Farm? They’ve cordoned off the whole of Chax Forest now – firing ranges and what not. Preparation for this ghastly war business. Well, Captain Keen was checking security on the edge of the wood on Wednesday and the ground gave way beneath him. That Hodge was an awful fool and never maintained the door to the chalk pit. Wood had rotted. Anyway, it took them a day to find him and half the night to gather all the equipment together to get him out. He was lucky only to break his arm.’

‘Nasty,’ said Valen.

‘Just so,’ said Gloria. ‘But not half as nasty as spending twenty-two hours alone in the dark at the bottom of a pit. His stories will do a far better job of keeping people away from Chax Forest than all those fences and signs ever could. Especially with all the talk of lights and howling going around lately.

‘Still, your Mr Winters was pleased, Ralf. They found a barrow down there. I expect you’ll be hearing all about it when you get back to school.’

‘A buriel ground? Really?’ Ralf tried to sound enthusiastic but his head was full of thoughts of family and he scanned the crowd hopefully.

Gloria didn’t notice. ‘Crashingly dull if you ask me. Anyway, if Ambrose isn’t here I’ll be off,’ she said. ‘Smashing to meet you all. I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.’ Like a whirlwind she shook hands with the boys, pinched Ralf’s cheek and gave Valen a brisk hug, then rushed off leaving them all a bit stunned.

‘Vot now? I mean what – what now?’ Seth asked, twitching with embarrassment.

‘Hang around and see if Ambrose turns up?’ said Valen hopefully.

‘Maybe he’s waiting for us back at the station? That’s where we came in…’ Leo suggested.

‘Of course,’ said Seth. ‘We’ve been wasting all this time wandering round here and he’s probably been looking for us! We should have just stayed put.’

They dodged the crowds and, ignoring the stares at Leo, hurried out of the circus field, down the hedge-lined lane and back towards the station.

‘Wait!’ said Leo suddenly. ‘Look at that.’

The Munton brothers were lounging on a nearby bench but Gadd’s smile drooped when an old police sergeant appeared from round a corner and called him over.

‘
Af’ernoon, Sergeant Minter,’ Gadd said in an obsequious tone. Then, as the children watched, he extracted something from his pocket and rapidly passed it behind his back to his younger brother. Covering the movement with a yawning stretch, the thin man got to his feet and ambled across the road to meet the policeman.

‘Something he doesn’t want the police to see…’ Seth whispered.

Alfie tutted. ‘Well sloppy,’ he said, shaking his head.

Ralf watched Gadd and
the police sergeant talking and racked his brains for all the memories he had of the Muntons. They were supposed to be fishermen but the rumour in King’s Hadow was that they were crooks. That explained Kat’s concern, back at the circus and King’s comment about smugglers. Ralf watched Gadd’s face as he spoke to Sergeant Minter. He seemed anxious. In fact, both brothers were jumpy. Oyler appeared barely able to control the twitching in his limbs. The paper Gadd had given him was tossed quickly into the hedge and, as he joined his brother and the sergeant, his arms waved around like sails on a windmill. 

As they trooped past the place where the Muntons had been sitting, Alfie seemed to stumble. Like an arrow his hand darted into the hedge, then it was back in his pocket and he was walking along again as if nothing had happened.

‘What was that about?’ Leo asked him as they went back into the station.

Alfie grinned. ‘Couldn’t stop myself,’ he said extracting a rolled up slip of paper from his pocket. ‘Just had to know.’

‘For goodness sake!’ Valen hissed. ‘What are you bothering with them for? We need to find Ambrose.’

‘No, go on, Alfie,’ said Seth. ‘Let’s see.’

They clustered round as Alfie read.
‘TR133354 DTF,’
he said, then grinned suddenly. ‘Maybe it’s his girlfriend’s phone number?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Valen.

‘Why? Too long?’

‘No. There’s no girl alive who’d go out with him.’

Ralf laughed at the look on her face.

‘Well whatever they’re doing, it’s probably not legal,’ said Leo.

‘You’re right,’ said Alfie, with a grim smile. He screwed up the note and thrust it into his pocket. ‘They’re dodgy as hell those two. I’d trust them about as far as I could comfortably spit a rat!’

They made their way back to the end of the platform and found their cases where they’d left them. A leathery looking old stationmaster limped along the platform towards them.

‘She’s in a right rage, she is,’ he said cheerfully. ‘But I told ‘er you’d be back.’ He seemed to find the startled looks on their faces very amusing because he started to laugh and clutched at his side. ‘I don’t know! Sometimes you kids just don’t know what’s good for you. Only been here an hour and already in trouble with Miss Brindle!’

‘Who’s Miss Brindle?’ Seth asked.

‘Oh ho!’ The stationm
aster found this question even funnier. ‘You’ll find out!’ They watched in silence as he chortled again at his own joke but eventually he calmed down enough to give Ralf a friendly slap on the shoulder.

‘I’d get ‘em down the Post Office, Ralf, if I were you,’ he advised. ‘And be quick about it!’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Brindle

The argument had started the moment they left the station and continued all the way down the long avenue of oaks, holly trees and closely packed cottages that led to the centre of the village. Ralf pressed his palms to his temples, eyes flickering right and left. Everything was so familiar. He wished they’d just shut up for a minute so he could remember why.

‘What if Ambrose doesn’t come?’ Alfie asked. ‘We’ll be stuck here and it’ll be all my fault.’

‘Yes it will!’ snapped Valen.

‘He will come!’ said Leo.

‘Fat chance!’ exclaimed Valen. ‘How’s he supposed to find us? He had an hour glass in his tent, not a crystal ball!’

‘We’re stranded,’ said Seth, darkly. ‘We’ll be here for the rest of our lives and they haven’t even invented the computer chip yet –’

‘No Xbox?’ Alfie looked like he was about to cry. ‘But they have TV. Right? Tell me they have TV!’

‘Of course they don’t have TV, you moron!’

‘Stop it, all of you!’ Ralf yelled. ‘For the moment it looks like we’re stuck. We will get back, but it might take Ambrose a while to realise we’ve gone and figure out where we are. That’s why we’re going down to see Miss. Brindle. We have to play along with this evacuee business. If we are stuck for a bit we’ll need food and a place to sleep.’ 

Even Valen could see the logic in this and she nodded grudgingly as they trudged past a church where notices next to the lichgate reminded ‘
Choir Practice: six o’clock. Evensong: seven o’clock.
’ On the other side of the road was a billiard-table Green and whitewashed Village Hall. A poster in pride of place on a board by the door advertised ‘
Double Agent!
’ starring Charles Hart, ‘
The Nation’s Favourite Actor
’.

The road began to slope more steeply now and the sun beat down on the backs of their necks. But even the threat of sunstroke could not hurry them. They walked in a kind of daze, taking everything in. It was all so – so 1939.

There was no traffic and that wasn’t the only thing missing: no litter, no pylons, no cables, no fumes, no noise, and no fast food shops. But what shops there were! Dotted amidst a jumble of hobbit sized houses were a Butcher’s displaying pig’s trotters and hung partridge complete with feathers and glassy yellow eyes, a Baker’s with a mouth-watering array of cakes in the window and an open door venting the smell of hot bread. A rosy-cheeked boy emerged from the Newsagent’s clutching a paper bag. ‘I got gobstoppers and shoelaces,’ he said to his waiting friend. ‘Aniseed balls instead o’ lollies. They last longer.’ An old man came out of Picken’s Hardware Store with a proud smile and a gleaming new hoe. A smocked farmer, with crook and dog, crossed the road ahead of them, clicking his tongue over a flock of sheep.

‘This is like, soooo not normal,’ Alfie grinned, wiping his sweaty forehead and stubbornly replacing his tam o’
shanter.

Ralf could not agree. To him, it all felt shockingly normal. The salt tang of the sea smelled more like home than any of the dusty rooms at Janus Gate. The village was more familiar to him, more real somehow, than anywhere he’d ever been.

There, at the edge of the harbour was The Crown Inn… and the landlord’s name… the landlord’s name was Duke – Frank Duke. And there was the fish shop, Hatcher’s Catch. And just here on the left was the Post Office. The memories came in a jumble and he fought to clear his head.

‘I know this place!’ he whispered shakily. ‘I know it.’

Alfie stared at him. ‘Of course you do, you numpty. You live here!’

‘Eh?’

Valen gave him a scathing glance. ‘Everyone knows you! And you’ve no nametag or suitcase,’ she said shifting hers from one arm to the other.

‘I’ve said I’ll carry your case – ‘

‘I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own case!’ Valen snapped. ‘In 1939 or anytime.’

‘Oh!’ Seth stopped walking so suddenly that Alfie walked into the back of him. His face lost colour by degrees and his eyes were wide with horror.

‘Are you going to tell us what’s the matter, then?’ Leo snapped at him. ‘Or do we have to guess?’

‘Wolf’s 1939 self lives here!’

‘So?’

‘So, what if we meet him? There can’t be two Ralf’s running around this village can there? Your 1939 self will go mad if he sees you! What are we doing wandering round so casually like this? What if our 1939 selves really are evacuees and we get to the Post Office in a minute to find them all waiting for us?’ Seth put his case down and sat on it heavily.

‘That’s bad, is it?’ said Alfie.

‘Shut up! Let me think!’ The others watched Seth, head
in hands and eyes screwed shut. They could almost hear the cogs whirring. ‘It’s a Grandfather Paradox…Novikov…Yes, but what about Temporal Modification Negation Theory?’

‘What’s he saying?’ Alfie whispered.

‘Shhh!’

Seth sighed, gnawed at his bitten fingernails, clutched at his hair. ‘Godel? No, no, no…Stick with the physics…Quantum Mechanics. Yes…M-theory. A Brane?’

Valen dropped her own case and sat down. Seth opened his eyes and watched her tugging at her plaits in irritation. His hand went to his own hair, his clothes and the rubber buttons on his mackintosh. His eyes cleared. ‘You can’t step in to the same river twice.’

‘Come again?’

Seth laughed, a short nervous sound. ‘It’s just like Ambrose said. You step into a river, right? And then step out on to the bank. Then you step in the river again but it’s not the same river.’

‘Of course it’s the same river,’ said Valen. ‘You haven’t moved to a different place, have you?’

‘No!’ said Seth excitedly. ‘It’s not the same river! It might have the same name, but it’s completely different from the river you stepped into seconds before. The water round your feet is different water. The particles of sand and bits of weed, the water molecules are different. The fish. Everything! Everything has moved on with the current.’

Alfie stood on his toes to whisper in Ralf’s ear. ‘Why’s he chatting about rivers?’

‘Listen!’

‘It’s the hair, you see!’ said Seth as if this explained everything.

‘Hair?’

‘The hair. The clothes. All of it! If we’d simply travelled back in time we’d either be in our normal clothes or naked.’

‘Gross!’ said Valen wrinkling her nose in Alfie’s direction.

‘But we’re not. We’re in the same river. It’s just a bit different from how it was two hours ago.’

‘Seth, you’re not really making a lot of sense to the rest of us non-geniuses, mate. Do you think you can explain what you’re on about?’ Ralf asked struggling to keep his voice calm.

‘It’s simple,’ said Seth. ‘Actually no, it’s not simple, it’s tremendously complicated but the upshot is this: we’re in 1939 clothes and have 1939 haircuts and we’re starting to get back the memories of our 1939 selves. We’re not going to meet our previous selves because somehow we’ve replaced them!’

‘So where are our 1939 selves?’

‘Either being very confused in our time or somewhere else.’

‘Somewhere else?’

‘There are endless possibilities. But they’re not here.’

‘Are you sure?’ Leo asked.

‘Fairly sure.’

It sounded logical enough but Ralf didn’t really care. He would have come in to the village even if the others had refused, because he simply had to see it. He had to have more of this strange feeling. This feeling of … what was it? Excitement? Happiness? The emotion was so long forgotten he hadn’t a name for it. All he knew was that if what he’d been told was true, if he did have a brother in this life, maybe he had other family members too? And if he did, he would see them in the village.

Seth frowned. ‘If I’m wrong we’ll walk through that door in a minute and come face to face with our 1939 incarnations which would be horrendously bad and might jeopardise the entire space time continuum and life on this planet as we know it.’ He shrugged at the other’s appalled expressions. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m right, though.’

Alfie wiped his forehead again. ‘I’d kill for an ice cold coke.’

The church clock was striking eleven as Ralf pushed open the Post Office door. Somewhere above his head a bell tinkled, clashing discordantly with the hour chimes outside. Ralf took a deep breath and, followed by the others, stepped inside. Their eyes darted everywhere for a sight of their previous selves, but the room was empty except for the strong smell of paper, glue, coffee and dog. On the right was the Post Office proper and on the left was an archway leading to what looked like a small teashop. Ralf fumbled with his memory and his neck prickled. Yes, that was it, The King’s Hadow Café, which at the moment held four tables with checked cloths but no people.

There was a movement in the corner of the Post Office section and Ralf spotted the source of at least one of the smells. A mangy looking mongrel with protruding ribs and sad, watery eyes lay in a corner of the room. It raised its head as they came in but slumped down again with a whining sigh a second later. Unthinkingly, Ralf stepped forward to pat it but, before he got close, a sharp voice said: ‘Stay away from her!’

The woman who’d spoken emerged from a back room and stood behind the counter, glaring at them all with narrow eyes. Ralf recognised her ginger hair, ample frame and florid face immediately and was rocked by the intense feeling of dislike that came with the memory.

‘So you’ve decided to turn up, have you!’ she barked. ‘Very nice of you, I’m sure!’ She shuffled papers and stamped documents until the counter shook. ‘I’ve wasted an hour of my morning traipsing round the village looking for these children, Ralf Osborne. I suppose you thought it would be funny to take them gallivanting off around the circus while working people have to chase after you?’ She glared at him with her hands on a set of very generous hips until Ralf realised he was expected to reply.

‘Er – no. I’m very sor –’

‘Spare me the apologies! You’re too big for your boots by far and I, for one, am sick of you. You four!’ Brindle snapped, making the others jump. ‘Pick up those cases!’ She raised a section of the counter top and, by turning sideways and breathing in, eventually managed to squeeze through the gap to stand before them.

They stood to attention, still and nervous, while she checked each of their nametags against her list. She pursed her thin lips when she came to Valen, scowled at Alfie, sniffed at Seth and would not meet Leo’s eyes at all.

‘DOWN!’ she roared suddenly and the five ducked instinctively until they realised she was talking to the dog again. She curled her lip at them.

‘Come with me!’

Timidly they followed her through the archway into the café. In her belted dungarees and boots she looked a lot like a sack tied in the middle and Alfie seemed almost mesmerised by her swaying behind. ‘Line your cases against the wall and sit there,’ she directed, pointing to a table in the darkest corner of the room. ‘And you, Osborne. You’ll be making amends for this morning’s fun and games in a minute, so don’t even think about leaving.’

The thought that she might send him away had simply not occurred to Ralf. Where would he go? He was just thinking about this when he noticed Alfie had his hand up.

‘What do you want, boy? Be quick about it!’ Brindle snapped.

‘Please Miss, could we get a drink? Its desert conditions out there, man and we done enuff walking –’

‘I don’t need to hear your life story!’ Brindle snarled back at him. ‘You!’ She jabbed a finger at Valen. ‘Go into the kitchen and bring glasses and a jug of water.’ Now she turned her finger on Alfie. ‘This boy is to remain in his seat. He is not to go anywhere near the kitchen. I a
m going to collect your billeting families who, I might add, were here two hours ago. I will be back shortly.’ She glared at them through too pale eyelashes. ‘And I know exactly how many oranges there are in the bowl!’ With a satisfied nod at their consternation she slapped her thigh and roared ‘Come!’ to the dog, which limped after her out of the front door.

‘Glad we caught her in a good mood,’ said Leo when she’d gone.

Even Valen had to laugh at that, disgruntled as she was at having to wait on the others. She chuckled as she went into the kitchen and returned a minute later with the much-needed water and a bowl of apples.

‘What?’ she said
, when she saw Ralf’s raised eyebrows. ‘She never said anything about the apples!’

‘Listen,’ said Ralf, when they’d finished gulping. ‘While she’s gone we ought to agree on some kind of plan.’

‘Wolf’s right,’ said Seth. ‘She’s going to come back in a minute with the people we’ll be staying with. We’re probably going to be split up. Some of us might even be on our own.’

All of them looked at Alfie who was polishing off his second apple, core and all. He blanched. ‘What you eyeballing me for? I’m not bothered. I’ve been in and out of care since I was five.’

‘Oh– er– right then, well,’ Ralf wriggled in his seat. ‘Valen?’

She laughed. ‘No worries. I’m on my sixth foster family and believe me, there’s no one alive who’ll be worse than foster father number three. It was ‘cos of him I took up karate.’