The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue (35 page)

‘No sword then, sir?’ he asked.

Oddly, for someone who’d previously shown little interest in the subject, King was staring at the box of artefacts with a puzzled expression on his face.

Winters looked up from the papers on his desk. ‘Curiosity peaked at last eh, Julian?’

‘Yes, sir,’ King said slowly. ‘I was just wondering. Isn’t it a bit strange? There’s no sword or shield in here.’ The boy looked almost dazed. ‘There ought to be a sword.’

‘No, no sword,’ Winters replied. ‘But that’s not so unusual. Often weapons were thrown into rivers or lakes, rather than buried with the dead.’

‘Sounds like ruddy waste,’ said Tank. ‘Why would they do that?’

Winters looked surprised at the sudden interest. ‘Some scholars think that weapons were given as offerings to the local spirits or water gods. Others believe that it was a way of them trying to take their most prized possessions with them to the afterlife. Certain rivers, lakes and springs were regarded as doorways to the world of the dead, you see,’ he said. ‘Think about that next time you go for a dip in the Dribble, eh?’

Ralf and Seth stared at each other. Ralf almost felt as if there should be a little light bulb, glowing above his head.

‘It’s the water,’ he whispered simply.

‘It has to be the water,’ Seth’s hand strayed to the map in his blazer pocket. ‘The Falls only ever appear next to water!’

The Turnarounders sat in the living room of Springfield cottage slurping tea and nibbling some melt in the mouth shortbread Alfie had found in a tin in the kitchen.

‘They won’t keep,’ he’d said. ‘We’ll be doin’ that Hart fella a favour to eat ‘em.’

Seth spread his well-worn map out on the table, using their cups to pin down the corners. He’d spent the journey home marking it and by the time the train had pulled into King’s Hadow he’d been able to confirm their theory.

‘Every single Fall has appeared right next to water of some sort. There’s the Fall by Sparra’s Pond,’ he said pointing to the place he’d marked. ‘Another one in King’s Meadow that’s surrounded by all that marshland and the one we came through, at the station, backs on to the River Dribble. Chax Forest has a mess of little rivers and streams.’

‘And Gloria is talking to someone through the lake at Hawke’s Manor,’ said Leo.

‘What about the High Street, though?’ asked Alfie.

‘And the ones in the Church and on the Green?’ asked Valen.

‘There’s a st
ream that runs right under the village. It follows that line and comes out down the back of Merle Farm,’ said Ralf running his finger over the map. ‘Poor Urk has also got a couple of small ponds on his bottom meadow as well.’

‘Yep, any number of Falls at his place,’ said Seth. ‘It’s no wonder the guy is Hatter Mad.’

‘Hey, you don’t think it could be him, do you?’ Valen asked. ‘The King’s Hadow Spirit? Maybe he’s the one playing all these vile tricks? He’s a pagan too,’ she said, as if that proved everything. ‘He might even know The Old Speech. Maybe it was him who did that bloody graffiti in the Hall!’

Ralf shook his head. ‘No
, Valen. Urk’s a pagan and a loner. But let’s not burn him as a witch just yet! I still think the poor bloke’s actually doing his best to look out for us. We all got rabbit’s feet for Christmas, remember?’

‘You’ve heard him though around the village and what he said about us!’ said Val. ‘He was deliberately trying to frighten everyone!’

‘You think so? To me he just sounded like a very scared person trying to convince everyone to believe him.’ Leo nodded slowly. ‘In fact, I think he’s so scared he might have been the one who opened the Fall that let the galleon through.’

‘Anyway’ said Ralf, ‘we’ve got to remember that there’s two things going on here. There’s the supernatural ghosts, Falls and timeline business that we can’t explain and then there’s the man-made evil pranks and scary things stuff –’

‘Which we also can’t explain,’ interrupted Valen laughing.

‘Talking of which,’ said Seth, looking at Ralf. ‘You making any headway with the whole Elk Cub Rat Rah thing?’

‘No,’ said Ralf slamming his cup down on the table. ‘I’m not!’

‘I’ve had no joy on the numbers yet, either,’ Seth admitted.

‘We’re doing about as well as the police are trying to find Hart,’ said Leo. The actor’s mysterious disappearance was still playing on his mind.

‘What about them Muntons, though?’ said Alfie.

‘They’re petty crooks,’ said Seth, dismissively.

‘They’re definitely wrapped up in this though,’ said Valen. ‘Else why would they have chloroformed me? It must be them, surely?’

Ralf nodded. ‘We should watch them. They’ve definitely got a base somewhere in Tarzy Wood.’

‘Well I might be able to help you on that one.  I have kinda been keepin’ an eye out already like we said.’ said Alfie, looking sheepish but speaking quickly before the others could react.

‘No, it made sense. You were all in school during the day and you’ve been busy most evenings. I’m the only one here in the village. I finish earlier and I can see
The Lot's Lady
from my school desk. I look out the window quite a bit anyway, to be fair. I’ll just up the effort and get me crew workin’ 24/7.’

‘Your crew?’ Valen sniggered. ‘Twenty under elevens with a liking for gob stoppers! Look out Gadd!’

‘We’ve done alright so far!’

Ralf looked at the others who were nodding in reluctant agreement. Each of them would have liked to do it, but Alfie was the man on the spot.

‘Alright,’ said Ralf. ‘Do what you can. But be careful. I don't–’

Alfie looped his gas mask box string across his body and knelt to tighten his laces. ‘I know what I’m doing,’ he said grimly. ‘Watch the Muntons. Locate their hideout. Find out what they’re up to. Don’t get caught.’

Ralf grinned. ‘Couldn’t have said it better myself!’

‘Serious. We’ve got ‘em surrounded but, most of the time, they don’t even know they’re being watched. It’s like Cowboys and Indians Kent style!’

Seth raised his eyebrows at this and Ralf and Valen chuckled but Leo’s reaction took everyone by surprise. He burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. He snorted and hiccoughed until tears rolled down his cheeks and he had to hang on to the mantelpiece for support.

‘Am I missing something?’ Valen looked at Ralf for an explanation.

Ralf shrugged helplessly.

Eventually, after a couple of false starts, Leo managed to spit it out. ‘Today Tank told me to go back to Africa where I came from!’ he sniggered.

Valen’s face clouded. ‘And that’s funny how, exactly?’

‘I don’t get it, either,’ Alfie frowned.

But Leo shook his head. ‘No, it’s hilarious,’ he gasped, clutching his stomach. ‘Tank’s just done us a huge favour.’

‘He has?’

‘Yep. ‘Go back to Africa where you come from!’ he said,’ said Leo, calmer now. ‘As far as he’s concerned every black person is an African.’

‘Honestly, Leo, you should knock him out!’ Valen spat.

‘No! Think about it,’ said Leo, beaming from ear to ear. ‘Say Gloria’s language is just as out dated as Tank’s, which as we’re in 1939 is a good bet.’

‘Yes?’

‘She said ‘Indian’, didn’t she? Well, that makes us think someone from India. What if Gloria didn’t mean from India? What if she actually meant Indian, as in Cowboys and Indians like Alfie said? Red Indian. Native American?’ He threw his hands in the air and looked at them triumphantly. ‘What I’m saying is, I think her ‘Indian’ in the lake was one of the Hidden!’

Ralf’s mind whirled with the possibility. It made sense! Even Winters had said ‘Red Indian’ when he was talking about the bow from the
Barrow!

Leo pulled his cards from the pocket of his overalls and fountained them from one hand to the other, grinning. ‘Ambrose couldn’t get to us, but one of
the Hidden has been trying to help!’

A week after their breakthrough at Springfield, Ralf, Seth, Leo and Valen were on the train home, watching Leo’s latest attempts to make a coin crawl across his fingertips when Will Tomkins came over with a small gang of village kids.

‘Have you decide
d? Will you be running for the Village or the School?’ he asked.

‘Do say it
’s Village, Ralf, do!’ squealed an apple-cheeked girl excitedly.

Ralf turned to the group. Their anxious faces made him hesitate to say ‘no’.

‘I haven’t decided if I’m even running yet,’ he said firmly.

‘Oh
come on, Osborne!’ said an oily-looking Dark Ferry boy. ‘Everyone knows you’re the only one who’s got a cat in hell’s chance of winning against those Crispin’s boys. Are you running or aren’t you?’

‘Firstly
, I
am
one of
those Crispin’s boys
and secondly…’ Exasperated, Ralf gave up trying to explain. ‘I’ll tell you what, Albert, you go out and catch a hundred weight of mackerel for me that day and I’ll do the flipping race, alright?’

Grumbling, the inquisitive group backed away and
the Turnarounders were left alone.

‘Why is everyone going on about it?’ Ralf asked Leo and Val. ‘I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.’

Leo stared at him. ‘Really?’

When Ralf didn’t answer Val launched into an explanation in a tone that would have been more suited to talking to a five year old. ‘I thought you Crispin’s lot were supposed to be clever!’ she exclaimed ‘The District Run’s really massive and this year it’s more combat than a competition. It’s Village versus School.’

‘Just what we need,’ said Ralf. ‘More bad feeling. We haven’t even got over the raffle yet.’

Sensing his mood, Seth extracted his Latin book and started mouthing silent conjugations. Leo went back to his coin trick as Valen watched and offered quiet advice. Ralf pushed the race to the back of his mind and, once again, tried to make sense of Gloria’s message. Could it really be one of
the Hidden she’d been talking to? And if it was, what on earth were they trying to tell him? He stared out at the flooded fields until, in a flurry of books, pipe and umbrella, Winters appeared.

‘Sorry to do this to you, chaps! Use
d to hate having to sit with a master!’ he said, not sounding sorry at all. ‘But First Class is chock-a-block with chattering ladies and clothing – WVS and a large number of Bundles for Britain,’ he added when he saw their blank faces. He turned to Ralf. ‘You’ve signed up for the run, of course?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Mind if I ask why?’

Well, he could ask, but there was no way Ralf was going to tell him the truth. He loved running but he had to get time back on track and get all of
them back to the twenty-first century. The raffle ticket nonsense had been distracting enough but he’d been forced into that. This time he had a choice and, let’s face it, he didn’t really have the time to be training for a race.

‘Bit busy, sir.’

Winters raised a bushy black eyebrow. ‘Busy, eh?’ He wagged his finger. ‘Listen, Osborne, The Dark Ferry and King’s Hadow District Run has been happening for over a century. Did you honestly think that Major Kingston-Hawke and the Headmaster would let a little thing like a war prevent it?’

Ralf blinked in surprise. ‘Er – No sir,’

‘Then, Osborne,’ Winters stopped and looked at him sharply. ‘I fail to see how your responsibilities are any greater than theirs. If they can do it, you can.’

Ralf squirmed. He hated to say no to Winters but it was ridiculous to even think about it. He had Falls to check, fish to catch, the five Righteous Echoes to find and despite what Burrows had said, he was determined to catch Brindle red-handed. He was pretty
swamped, to be honest.

‘Yes sir.’

His little lecture complete Winters unfolded his newspaper and settled himself for the journey. ‘Don’t mind me,’ he winked. ‘I won’t hear a word!’ He unscrewed the cap of his fountain pen and got to work.

‘One down,
‘It’s in charge’
, six letters...’ Winters muttered. ‘Hmmm, anagram? Ha! Lev-it-y!’ he chortled, rapidly filling in the squares. Ralf froze as a thought struck him. It couldn’t possibly be that simple, could it?

He rummaged in his satchel for pencil and paper and wrote down the letters that were now etched on his brain:

ELK CUB RAT RAH

With furious speed, he scrambled them, writing them in new positions, reordering them to see if he could make them make sense. With a trembling hand he stared down at the paper, too shocked to gasp, too stunned to move.

ARBUCKLE

Prefixed by T and R for Tom and Ron. And just to be completely clear, their Hidden friend had provided their middle initials as well – A for Amos and H for Horatio.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Two in One

‘Can you believe it?’ Ralf gasped. ‘It was just back to front! It’s so simple!’

They hadn’t talked about it on the train. One look at Ralf’s white face told the others a breakthrough had been made. They rushed from King’s Hadow Station to find Alfie, in sou’wester and gumboots, sheltering from the driving rain under a tree. Four long Shifts and they arrived; dripping but exhilarated, at Springfield and Ralf filled them in on his discovery.

‘Gloria said he was a reflection,’ Seth breathed, when Ralf finished. ‘She
told
us that she had had to read everything backwards! Why didn’t we work it out sooner?’

‘Because Gloria
said
she was turning the messages round as she wrote them down,’ said Valen.

‘But, she was in such a state the day her Spirit Guide disappeared, she must have forgotten,’ said Leo.

‘She was so upset she didn’t think to reverse the letters and I didn’t check,’ said Ralf. ‘Doh! How stupid am I?’

‘Do you want us to answer that?’ Leo chuckled.

Ralf ignored him. ‘It’s not like I don’t know Gloria can be a bit scatty!’

‘You’re not wrong!’ Seth sniggered. ‘God help us all, if she really does end up parachuting into France!’

‘She parachutes in to France?’ Alfie exclaimed, laughing. ‘So, is that to help the Allies or just to get her out of England?’

‘Before she wrecks everything here, you mean?’ said Valen,
sniggering.

‘Give her a break,’ said Leo. ‘She forgot to turn the message round. It’s not like she organised a riot. Think of all we know! We’ve now got the name of ‘the greatest of them.’

Ralf slapped a hand to his forehead as, abruptly another chunk of the rhyme became clear. ‘‘Two in one’!’ he cried. ‘It means two brothers, one name. Both the Arbuckles! That’s why we got both sets of initials too. It couldn’t be any clearer!’

‘Oh yes it could!’ said Seth, his face lighting up ‘Quick! Paper! Pen!’

‘What now?’ Alfie asked.

Seth scribbled furiously. ‘I’ve spent I don’t know how many hours trying to work out what these numbers mean. But, Gloria didn’t turn the messages round that day! The numbers are backwards too. And – er – let’s see, if you reverse them you get: 000414062764!’

‘Yeah, and it’s still as clear as mud!’ Alfie cried.

‘Im gegenteil – sorry,’ Seth was laughing again. ‘I mean, on the contrary. It means everything! It’s a time and date!’

‘Eh?’

‘Break it down. 00:04 is four minutes past midnight. Then you’ve got the 14th day of the sixth month –’

‘So that’s June?’ said Valen doubtfully.

‘No,’ Leo shook his head, his brow furrowed in concentration. ‘Not June…’

‘No!’ Ralf clapped a hand to his forehead. ‘The rhyme!’

‘And Urk,’ said Leo.

‘Urk?’ Valen repeated.

‘Yes!’ Ralf was hopping from foot to foot in excitement now. ‘Urk!’ he cried. ‘He kept telling us! I was fixating on the trees but he was telling us a time!’ Leo grinned as Ralf no
dded furiously. ‘The Old Calendar! Elder and Hawthorn are months of the year!’

‘In the Old Calendar, Hawthorn
is the sixth month, which runs from the thirteenth of May! So the 14th of Hawthorn would be – would be the twenty-seventh of May!’

‘I get it!’ said Alfie excitedly but then his face fell. ‘But the year? Tell me we don’t have to wait till 2764 to sort this. I don’t think we’ll be able to Shift that well with Zimmer frames!’

‘No,’ said Seth smugly. ‘If you go by the Old Calendar, the Hidden Calendar…the calendar we used to know, for goodness sake, you get something much closer!’

‘Yes!’ Leo exclaimed. ‘The Hidden began their Calendar again from
The Battle of Darkling Vale, which makes the year…I dunno…?’

‘
This year!’ Seth exclaimed. ‘2764, by Hidden reckoning, would be 1940!’ Seth’s eyes shone in triumph. ‘We know when it’s going to happen!’

Leo slapped Seth on the back. ‘You’re a genius, mate.’

Seth did a little bow. ‘I wouldn’t have got it without you,’ he acknowledged.

‘So we know something’s going to happen at the end of May and the Arbuckle boys need to be safe till after then,’ said Ralf. ‘But that’s almost two months –’

‘But how are we supposed to keep them safe?’ Valen wondered.

‘And safe from what?’ Seth asked.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Leo, staring out into Springfield’s walled garden. ‘We’ll know when it comes.’

‘What do we do until then, though?’ Valen asked.

Leo turned to face them. ‘We wait,’ he said.

‘Don’t let’s get all down and low wiv the details. We got two of the Righteous dudes!’ said Alfie a little later. ‘So, what about the other three?’

‘Actually, bizarrely, I think we’re almost there on that too,’ said Ralf. ‘Remember what Ambrose told us. We’ve lived before. We have an affinity with Time. The Righteous Echoes will have too. I reckon they’ll be close to Falls and ghosts and stuff. It’ll have happened around where they live.’

Seth produced his now rather battered looking map and spread it out before them once more. ‘So if you tie in the most active Falls with where people live you get Hawkes Manor, Sedley’s Farm, Chax Forest and the High Street.’

‘All the shrieks and wails and Gloria’s Spirit Guide at the lake mean it must be Gloria or her Dad,’ said Leo pointing to the cluster of dots marking Hawkes Manor.

‘Yes, but you have to consider Keen too,’ said Val. ‘He’s staying up at the Manor and he’s to and from the Army Base in Chax Forest all the time’.

‘True,’ said Alfie, ‘Keen’s a div but he’s a Falls magnet.’

‘But if you go by that logic what about Urk Fitch?’ Valen asked. ‘He’s seen loads and there are Falls right next to his property.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Ralf.  ‘He may be an Echo but we’re looking for Righteous Echoes and he’s way too crazy to fit in to that category.’

‘And look,’ said Seth, marking a line on the map with his finger. ‘All the Falls are on the North side of Merle Farm, right where it meets the Sedleys’. Taken together with all the trouble they’ve have had since September, I think Walter’s our best bet out there.’

Leo frowned down at the cluster of dots in the village proper. ‘It’s the High Street that’s the tricky one.’

‘From the position of all the things happening round the Church and the Village Hall,’ said Seth, ‘I think the short list would have to include Mr and Mrs Kemp, the Hatchers, Hettie Timmins and Denning.’

Seth frowned at the map then tapped it meditatively. ‘Falls are causing the Fear, right?’ he said. ‘So let’s assume they’re kind of targeted. Say, it’s the Righteous Echoes who are meant to be affected. Who’s seen most ghosts?’

‘That’s it,’ said Leo suddenly. ‘Most of the sightings have been in the graveyard or inside the church! Only a couple of houses have a completely unobstructed view – The Bakery and Thrace Cottage.’

Valen’s eyes sparkled. ‘So it’s down to The Kemps and Winters.’

‘Winters?’ Seth started. ‘That is not good.’

‘I would’ve thought you’d be arguing it
was
him,’ said Ralf surprised.

Seth shook his head. ‘He’s a good person and he’s seeing plenty of ghosts but he’s suffering. Nightmares. Shakes.’ Seth’s brow crinkled in concern and
he bit a chunk out of his thumbnail. ‘I like him a lot, despite the long home works, but I really hope it’s not him. I’m not sure he’s up to it.’

Cracking the frustrating Elk Cub Rat Rah clue and working out their deadline went a long way towards improving all their spirits. Despite the general depression in the village and the continued escapades of the ‘King’s Hadow Spirit’, the Turnarounders felt more hopeful. March gave way to April and for the first time since they’d arrived in the village they felt as if they were really getting somewhere. Though where they were headed remained as much a mystery as it had before at least now they knew the date and time of their destination.

Even the weather failed to dampen their spirits. The rain continued to fall. The Dribble flooded its banks
. King’s Meadow became King’s Swamp and water bubbled from drains to turn the High Street into a filthy stream, which gurgled down to meet the sea. But it didn’t bother Ralf. He was used to getting wet and was more comfortable now with the long, hard days on
The Sara Luz
. He had caught some dab, dog and whiting and, although he knew his 1940s self would have felt he was doing a lot of work for very little return, having finally made some headway Ralf was just enjoying being out there. He was even getting accustomed to being continually badgered about the District Run and over the next two weeks added a jog to his daily routine – just in case.

Wherever he went he was accosted by groups of small children begging him to ‘give the posh boys a whipping’. Grown-ups, temporarily buoyed up by news of an Allied push in Norway, took time out to ask how much training he was doing. Old Jack Sedley advised him to drink a raw egg each morning and Frank Duke suggested he soak his knees in neat whisky before bed each night. Even
the Turnarounders were not immune to the growing excitement.

‘Why don’t you just give it a go?’ Alfie asked
when Ralf called at the Sedleys’ to check in one afternoon.

‘Not you too!’ Ralf exclaimed. Despite his secret training, he hadn’t definitely made up his mind to enter.

‘I’m just saying, it’s not like you got anything to lose, innit?’ Alfie poured the bucket of feed he was carrying into the trough at the edge of the Sedleys’ cow field.

‘Except the race,’ said Ralf grimacing. ‘And the contents of my stomach. I seriously think I’ll puke if I have to look at King’s smug face if he wins.’

‘Well, there’s more chance of that if you don’t run,’ said Alfie, climbing up to sit on the gate.

‘But don’t you think it’s like, I don’t know, massively unimportant with everything else we’ve got to think about. King’s nothing is he? It’s
the Righteous Echoes that matter. I should be doing something to help them, not running round the countryside!’

‘Like what, though?’ Alfie asked. ‘Serious blud, what’s to do? We give it until May and then we kick butt. Until the twenty-seventh it’s a waiting game
, innit?’ He reached over the gate to pat one of the cows on the head as she nudged her way to the trough. ‘And after everything that’s been happening, the villagers could do with cheering up a bit, I reckon. Besides,’ Alfie went on, leaping nimbly off the gate. ‘I’d pay money to see a village kid win it.’ He wiped his hands on his trousers and grinned. ‘If I had any, that is!’

Of all his friends, however, Gloria was by far the worst. Back from her ‘Top Secret Mission’ for a weekend of Rest and Recuperation as she called it, she went out of her way to track Ralf down to nag him about it.

‘Ralf! Thank Heavens I’ve found you!’ she cried one morning as she saw him leaving Hatcher’s after dropping off his catch. ‘Are you alright? Fit? How are the legs? I’ve just seen Julian. The poisonous little insect was positively crowing about how he’s going to thrash you in the District Run. I can’t have that!’ she cried, hugging him awkwardly as she grappled with an umbrella in her other hand. ‘He’ll be absolutely impossible…’

‘But Gloria –’

‘No, no buts, you simply must win! He’s been getting far too big for his boots without you around to keep him sensible.’

‘But, Gloria, I haven’t decided to run yet.’

Gloria slipped an arm through his and leaned in conspiratorially. Her umbrella shaded her face and the drumming rain almost drowned her words. ‘Don’t tell Sergeant Minter but Frank Duke is running a book. I’ve just put two shillings on you to win, so losing is not an option!’ She shot him her familiar wink. ‘Anyhoo, how goes the mystery?’

‘I think we’ve made progress. It turns out the Elk thingy was Arbuckle backwards,’ said Ralf sheepishly.

‘Backwards!’ Gloria looked astonished until the penny dropped. ‘Heavens! Of course it was! I didn’t reverse it. You must think me a frightful twit. I was in such a blue funk when he was talking and that damn magpie was fluttering at me –’

‘Gloria!’ Ralf interrupted remembering something that had been bothering him for weeks. ‘Your Spirit Guide! Tell me –’

He asked her the question.

Gloria blinked in surprise. ‘Well of course he was a Red Indian! That’s what I said, isn’t it?’ she cried. ‘I think he must have been a Chief of some kind. Lots of feathers in his hair. And the most unusual pale eyes. Silver almost. I wish I knew his name.’

‘Bingo!’ said Ralf.

‘Bingo?’ repeated Gloria, missing the point entirely. ‘I shouldn’t think so! Far more likely to be called Black Bear or Sitting Bull, or something!’

Ralf let out a whoop of laughter. He threw his arms around her, kissed her damp cheek and splashed off up the street.

Gloria stared after him through the rain. ‘The boy’s cracked,’ she said quietly. ‘Talking to himself next, I shouldn’t wonder.’