The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue (26 page)

They stood in their usual spot under the old oak. The Green was covered in frost again and they had to stamp their feet and move about in order to keep warm.

‘No, no, I know but look, listen’ said Ralf
, excitedly, ‘I think I’ve made major progress on the ‘Righteous Echoes’!’ He brandished a page torn from his Latin exercise book. ‘I’ve got a list of possibles. Including the Manor, surrounding farms and hamlets, there are fifty-two people in the King’s Hadow area and twenty-nine of them were born in the village.’

‘Crikey, Ralf!’ exclaimed Valen. ‘How’ja work that out?’

‘Why so surprised? I may not be a genius but I do know how to do a bit of simple research,’ Ralf grinned. ‘I just thought it was stupid us going round asking everyone where they were born, so I went to see the vicar before the service. Told him I was doing a project and he let me look at the Parish records,’ he said. ‘It was easy, actually. Denning is seriously gullible. He lapped it up.’

‘So what did you find?’

‘Well, there were six people who were born here but have moved away: Our old friend Burrows and, here’s a surprise – Captain Keen!’

‘Keen?’

‘Yep. At The Manor. His parents were visiting the Kingston-Hawkes and the baby came early. It was announced in
The Times
.’

‘I knew there was something special about him,’ said Valen.

Ralf went on. ‘Then there’s a Jill Bagshawe, Archibald Buckle, Rosalind Leakey and, wait for it, Noddy Uppity – Yes, that is apparently, his real name.’ He waited for their laughter to die down and then continued. ‘But I did cross off everybody over seventy and under ten as being too old or too young to make a difference to the course of history at the moment.’

‘Blatant discrimination!’ said Alfie. ‘I’m too young to make a difference, is it? I’m considered a grown up by the Brigantes, you know!’

‘Sorry, Alf, I just don’t think it’s likely, that’s all. I’ve also discounted anybody who’s bonkers or obviously nasty. So Brindle, Urk, both Muntons, Tank and King are off the list...’

‘And you can take off Marjorie Bains an’ all!’ said Valen. ‘The snooty cow! I’ve had detention twice because of her!’ She looked so formidable that no one disagreed.

Ralf sighed. ‘It seems a bit arbitrary but we need to start somewhere, I suppose.’

‘So, that leaves us with seventeen villagers,’ said Val. ‘But the poem said Five Righteous Echoes. Captain Keen must be one of them.’

Alfie snorted. ‘You’re joking aren’t you? The man’s an idiot!’

‘He is not!’ snapped Valen. ‘I’m not saying he’s Stephen Hawking or anything. But he’s obviously brave.’

‘Do you luurve him?’

‘Do you want a slap?’

‘Alright,’ said Alfie grudgingly. ‘He talks a good game but we’d be in a massive pile of poo if history depended on the likes of him!’

Valen ignored him and gave Ralf a friendly nudge. ‘Good work, Ralf.’

‘Excellent work, I’d say,’ said a voice behind them.

‘Seth!’ Valen cried as she thumped him enthusiastically on the arm. ‘Feeling better?’

‘I was!’ he grinned, massaging his shoulder. ‘Even better now I’ve been invited to lunch with you lot at the Sedleys’. I think I’ve got something to show you. They’ve already left, by the way, shall we get moving?’

They started walking and Seth fired questions at them as they went. He was thinner and a bit of the shine seemed to have gone from his eyes, Ralf thought, but he was looking much more like his old self.

They hadn’t got more than a hundred yards down the lane when they came face to face with Brindle coming out of the kennel in her yard. She was still wearing her Sunday finery, a shapeless brown dress had replaced the old green one and, in a matching brown coat and hat, she resembled nothing so much as a walking slurry pit.

Ralf felt Leo’s hand on his arm and was wondering why his friend might think he needed holding back when Cabal appeared in the doorway. The dog made as if to bound forward but was pulled up sharply mid-stride by the choke chain round his neck. He yelped and fell back. Brindle smiled.

Angry heat flooded Ralf’s face and he felt his fists clench. He stepped forward, pushing against Leo’s restraining hand.

‘No, Wolf,’ his friend soothed. The others had stopped walking too. None of them said anything but they moved closer in silent support.

Brindle’s smile was slow and satisfied. She yanked on the chain and slapped a birch against her thigh. Cabal whined and slunk to sit at her heel. ‘A firm hand, you see?’ she said. ‘That’s all that’s required.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ said Ralf slowly. ‘He’ll walk at heel if you just reward him.’

‘Reward him!’ Brindle exclaimed. ‘And what will that teach him? Laziness and greed! Punish them when they don’t obey and you’ll soon have a useful animal.’

Ralf was speechless with rage and Brindle seemed to sense it.

‘Dogs are the same as children, you see?’ she smiled. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child.’ She opened the gate and walked through on to the lane. ‘It’s an expression that some in the village would do well to remember. Your guardians in particular, I might add!’

And with that, she marched back towards the village with Cabal walking miserably at her heels.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Friendship Foiled

The Sedley
s were outraged by the whole Cabal affair.

‘She always wa
s a wrong ‘un,’ said Mrs Sedley darkly, as they sat down to lunch at their scrubbed kitchen table.

Walter grinned at his mother’s turn of phrase. ‘She butchers her own pigs, you know,’ he said. ‘Enjoys it too.’

Seth cringed and Valen, seeing his queasy expression, poured him a glass of water from the jug on the table.

Old Jack came through the back door just then and chuckled. ‘S’true,’ he said. ‘I baint never seen no one smile so much over sharpening
a butcher knife. Not since her father, that is.’ He kicked off his boots and went to the sink to wash his hands. ‘What’s to eat, Wife?’

Mrs Sedley ducked into the pantry and reappeared a second later. She pulled the muslin off the platter she was carrying with a flourish. ‘I’ve got some nice Kent cheese, hard boiled eggs and –’ she said beaming, ‘a lovely pork pie!’ 

Walter roared with laughter at the looks on their faces.

Despite the grim build up, the pie was delicious, though Seth said he’d take their word for it and helped himself to a liberal portion of cheese instead. To accompany it there was fresh bread, thick yellow butter, homemade pickles then stewed blackberries and cream to follow.

After they’d finished, Seth looked pointedly at the others. ‘So are you going to show us your Andersen shelter, Alfie?’ he asked.

Alfie nodded vigorously and, as one, they got up to leave. It was cold out and very windy but none of them
felt like sitting in the Sedleys’ parlour when they had so much to talk about. They hurried to the Andersen, which was sturdy, watertight and most importantly, warm.

‘All this stuff in the village. It’s got to be Brindle, hasn’t it?’ Ralf said. ‘Who else is capable of being that cruel to animals?’

‘And up at the Manor. She’s the bloomin’ Post Mistress, isn’t she?’ said Alfie. ‘She’s in and out delivering every day. She’s got the opportunity.’

‘Forget about her for a minute,’ said Seth. ‘I’ve had some time on my hands and I’ve been thinking about the Falls.’

He pulled out Ralf’s map of the area on which he’d plotted all the new Time Falls they had heard about. Seth mumbled something about ‘adding a few more ghosts,’ ‘common factor’ and ‘having a working hypothesis’ and then admitted: ‘It’s eluding me at the moment...’

‘It seems pretty random to me,’ Ralf interrupted. ‘Look at the ones in Chax Forest. They are all over the place! From what Gloria says there have been Falls to a whole load of different points in history. And they’ve all appeared in different places, some in quiet, out of the way spots and some right in the middle of the army base.’

Seth shook his head. ‘No. There’s symmetry to everything, Ralf. It’s all about numbers. Ice, leaves, sand dunes, the spots on a leopard…they look random but each is precisely organised, each has its own sequence. Even snowflakes are mathematical in formation. Euclid wrote about it.’ He looked down at the map again and frowned. ‘There’s a pattern to this too. We just have to find it.’

The others nodded sagely and pretended to understand.

‘What about these?’ Ralf handed Seth the number sequence Gloria had given him

Seth studied them for a few seconds and then scratched his head.

‘They’re not part of the Fibonacci Sequence, which would have been my first guess…’ He waited for the others to look impressed but their faces were blank.

‘Carry on, mate,’ said Leo, eventually. ‘No one understands you, but we’re sure you’re giving it your best shot.’

‘Right, okay.’ Seth squinted down at the numbers again, biting his thumbnail. He whistled. He tutted. He turned the paper over and then upside down. Eventually he looked up.

‘They don’t seem to be any basic code I can work out manually. If I had my laptop I might be able to run a program…’ He sighed. ‘467260414000. It’s not a telephone number or tide time or latitude and longitude, unless it’s pinpointing somewhere in the middle of the ocean and I can’t see why Gloria’s Indian would tell us that. I’m going to need time to work it out.’

‘I can’t help wondering whether the numbers are the same as the ones on the note the Munton’s had,’ said Ralf.

‘They’re not,’ said Alfie.

‘Be quiet, Alfie,’ said Val.

‘But they’re not!’ Alfie cried. ‘And stop telling me to shut up the whole time. I’m not
an idiot! I’ve been running my dad’s betting numbers for years. Besides if you want to know Gadd’s numbers they’re here!’ He held up a rumpled slip of paper.

‘You’ve still got it? You’re kidding!’

‘Habit, innit man? I never throw stuff away. Never know when you might need it to prove something to the Old Bill,’ he said. He handed the note to Ralf who read it aloud:

‘TR133354 DTF’

Seth was astounded. ‘But that’s brilliant!’ He slapped Alfie on the back. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘Finally,’ said Alfie. ‘But it don’t do us much good.’

‘On the contrary,’ said Seth, a huge smile lighting up his face. ‘They mean a lot! The numbers aren’t the same and I’ve still no idea about the ones Gloria’s Indian sent us, but this number is very simple. I’m guessing DTF is short for ‘date to finalise,’ or maybe, ‘details to follow’ but the number starts with TR so it’s an Ordinance Survey map reference. And I think it’s somewhere close.’ He spread the map on the shelter wall. They all crowded round.

‘Something is going to happen about...’ Seth’s finger travelled along the grid until he found the point they were looking for on the eastern edge of Tarzy Wood. ‘Here.’

‘That’s just south of the Army no-go zone,’ said Ralf.

‘About two hundred yards that way,’ said Alfie, pointing.

Valen smiled grimly. ‘Urk’s place!’ she and Leo cried together.

‘Okay,’ said Ralf. ‘We know that something’s going to happen and we know where. What we don’t know is what’s going to happen or when!’

‘If it’s anything to do with the Muntons,’ said Alfie, ‘chances are it’s just a delivery of black market whiskey.’

‘It isn’t!’ said Leo. He said it with such certainty that the others stopped to look at him. ‘I’ve got a feeling that this is important.’

‘So what do we do?’ Valen asked. ‘And don’t say ‘Nothing’! Unless,’ she said, glaring at Seth, ‘you want a poke in the eye.’

‘I was just going to say that we mustn’t let it distract us from finding out who the Righteous Echoes are,’ said Seth. ‘That’s got to be our top priority.’

‘Agreed, but
The Lot's Lady
was the only boat out of the harbour when the lines were cut!’ said Ralf.  ‘That’s way too much of a coincidence.’

Leo nodded. ‘We definitely need to find out what the Muntons are up to.’

‘I am so volunteering for that duty,’ said Alfie. ‘Our school’s been collecting scrap for the war effort an’ all and those lowdown, rotten crooks have only gone and nicked it. Can’t prove it but I know it was them. What?’ he asked, when he saw their surprised faces. ‘You don’t nick stuff for the war effort, okay? It gives thieves a bad name!’

There was laughter at that and Valen ruffled Alfie’s hair until he shrugged her off, blushing.

‘I’m not going to tell you not to,’ said Ralf. ‘But be careful. Those two could turn nasty very quickly.’

Seth took a deep breath. ‘So, getting back to the Echoes then,’ he said. ‘We need to narrow down Ralf’s list a bit further. I don’t want to do it,’ he grimaced, ‘but I think it’s about time we had a talk with Mr Fitch.’

‘You’re right,’ Leo nodded. ‘I know everyone says Urk’s bonkers, but there’s more to it than that. Old Bill says he’s been different since war was declared. He was odd before, kept himself to himself, was known for being a bit grumpy but he was never raving.’ He frowned as he tried to put his feelings into words. ‘It’s like that whistle Brindle uses on her dogs. The sound is too high pitched for humans to hear but it drives Cabal crazy. Well, I think it’s the same with Urk. He’s in tune with something that no one else seems to understand. Something from the Old Times, you know, something primitive. It’s like there’s all this noise and information flying around and only he can hear it.’

‘He definitely knows more than he’s let on,
’ said Ralf. ‘If we talk to him calmly, maybe we’ll find out what.’

‘Though whether we’ll get any sense out of him is a different matter,’ decl
ared Valen.

Ralf suddenly realised he had to squint to see her properly. ‘What time is it?’

Alfie looked like he’d been waiting for someone to ask this question all day. As they headed back outside, he thrust his hand into his pocket and, with a flourish, drew out a heavy, silver watch and chain.

‘Coming up to three o’clock,’ he said proudly.

‘Alfie!’ Valen exclaimed.

The others looked at him suspiciously. Alfie’s smile faltered as he realised what they were thinking. ‘No! No, bluds. It’s kosher. I didn’t nick it. I found it – honest!’

‘Kosher?’ Seth repeated with a chuckle. ‘You found a solid silver pocket watch just lying around?’

‘I found it on the way to school. It was lying by the side of the lane, you know, just before it forks up to Merle Farm and here? Check it out!’ Alfie took the watch back and flipped it over to show them an intricate engraving of an antlered deer on the back. ‘Silver. Nice bit of work that. And look here!’ He popped the cover once again. Inside the lid was an inscription:
In gratitude. To A.R.B. From W.L.S.C. September 1917.
‘I’ve asked everybody. There’s no one in the village with those initials. Walter said it’s probably been dropped by someone from a passing motor.’ He looked at Ralf, eyes appealing to him. ‘Finders keepers, right? The Sedleys said it was okay.’

‘Don’t see why not, if you’ve asked them,’ said Ralf.

Sefton began lowing. It was a mournful sound and they started back towards the house as the animal’s deep song reverberated through the air. Ralf looked back across the field at the dark shape of the bull, its head stretched towards the slate grey sky. Behind him, black and forbidding, was Merle Farm.

‘Look!’

The others stopped and followed his gaze. There among the shadows at the edge of the wood was Urk Fitch. He lurched towards them. Birds billowed out from the undergrowth in black waves as he clambered through it. Thorns caught at his clothes but he didn’t seem to notice and dragged himself forward to stand a few feet away from them.

Instinctively, Alfie took a step back
and Ralf put out a steadying hand. He knew how Alfie felt. The others didn’t move but he could feel his friends either side of him and their presence gave him the nerve he was looking for.

‘What can we do for you, Mr Fitch?’

‘I takes nothin’ I can’t repay!’ Urk shot back. ‘I knows I shouldn’t ha’ done it but I get so confused with ‘em, see? Them’s following me. Keeping me awake with their scratching! I done made a mistake and I’m sorry for it. Don’t be angry with poor Urk.’

The man was pitiful and for a second Ralf actually thought he might cry.

‘But Mr Fitch, what have you done?’ Leo asked.

‘I was supposed to give you it. But I din’t know, see? I waited but you didn’t come. What was I to do?’ he wrung his hands as he spoke and looked at Ralf hopefully.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Fitch,’ Ralf said. ‘I don’t understand.’

Urk was nearly frantic now. The effort of speaking and keeping his eyes on all corners of the wood at the same time seemed to be taking its toll. ‘The stone! I don’t know what happened to it!’

‘A stone, Mr Fitch?’

‘The stone. I had it safe for so long but you never claimed it. Did he give it you?’

‘Who? What stone?’ said Valen impatiently. ‘Mr Fitch you’re not making sense!’

Fitch shuffled further forward. ‘The stone. The one I gave your brother. He should’a give it to you but he baint. So I’m making amends.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small parcel. It was the length of a finger and from one end of it something dark and red was slowly seeping. As one, they recoiled in horror. Ralf didn’t know what was in the package but, whatever it was, he knew he most definitely did not want it.

‘No. You can’t have it yet. It baint ready,’ smiled Urk, mistaking their revulsion for admiration. He stowed the sticky object back in his coat pocket. ‘But it’ll be ready when it’s time.’ 

‘Time?’

‘End of Elder it’ll start. Hawthorn’ll be the decider.’

‘Elder? Hawthorn
? What about the trees? What will happen?’ Leo asked.

But Urk’s eyes had rolled away. ‘They’re crowding me ‘gen. Shadows comin’
! Creeping and clawing!’ he slapped at himself and stumbled away, greatcoat flapping.

‘Tell us about
the Shadows, Mr Fitch!’ called Ralf to his retreating back.

Urk paused and looked back over his shoulder one final time. He gave a small smile, revealing a cemetery of broken, grey teeth, behind cracked lips.

‘The prickle you feel on the back of your neck…the feeling of someone behind you when there’s no one there…when the tiny hairs on your arms stand up. That’s them. The Shadows are coming. This place is alive with them!’