The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue (45 page)

‘...Although facing a sizeable opposition, the troops are supported by the Navy and RAF. Brigadier Nicholson, Commander of the Calais garrison has every faith in the men –’

Abruptly, Ralf was struck by a terrible feeling of claustrophobia. He could sit still no longer. He stood and turned the dial on the wireless, cutting off Mr Addlethorpe in mid flow. He raided Hilda’s basket for the remains of the food and found bread, a little pot of jam and a tin of Pard Dog Meat. Boy and dog wolfed down their breakfast as though it were their last meal. Ralf grabbed his knapsack and headed for the front door.

His eye was drawn to a piece of paper lying in the centre of the doormat. His heart lurched. That hadn’t been there before! Who knew he was there?

Ralf snatched it up and read it with mounting panic.

Wolf,

I can’t wait any longer. We’re doing nothing and going nowhere. I’m sorry, but you need to understand. I’m proud of being Jewish, but until we travelled back in time The Shoah, The Holocaust, was like Remembrance Sunday. A terrible story. A memory of horrific things that happened long ago – to someone else. Now though, I’m living it and being a Jew is important to me, to what I believe, the way I see
things, everything I stand for…

I’m going to France. Hitler will be in Dunkirk in a week or so. That should give me enough time. I don’t think we can change our timeline here but I may be able to make a difference to his. I’m going to st
op Hitler before it’s too late.

I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not just about my family. They’re safe. They made it to Gibraltar but Wolf, hundreds of thousands won’t. Grandfather got a letter. The neighbours that kept my parents hidden those last months have been arrested. We both know what will happen to them. They were normal German people but they saved my parent’s lives and the lives of dozens of others. Now they’re going to die for it. They weren’t very import
ant – but neither was Johan Elser. They tried. Now I’m going to try too.

Seth.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The Road Not Taken

It all made sense now: the Officer Training Corps at school, the short haircut, Seth’s questions about Hitler’s movements, the way he’d been so distracted, his mad behaviour the previous morning when Winters had disappeared. Seth had been planning this
for some time Ralf realised. He crumpled the letter in his fist. Why hadn’t he spotted the signs earlier? He might have been able to do something to stop his friend. This crazy plan to kill Hitler was surely suicide. He stuffed Seth’s note in to his pocket and, forgetting everything except the need to see the other Turnarounders, ran through the front door, slamming it behind him. Within minutes Springfield was far behind him as he Shifted in the half-light towards Sedley’s Farm.

As he hoped, all at the farm were already at work. He foun
d Alfie mucking out the Sedleys’ barn.

‘Psssst!’ Ralf beckoned to Alfie from behind a bale of straw.

‘You can come out, Wolf,’ said Alfie. ‘No worries. The Sedleys are down at Sefton’s field…disinfecting.’

Ralf stepped in to the shaft of light that filtered through the open door. ‘Sorry about Sefton,’ he said.

Alfie shrugged and tried for a grin but it came out crooked and faded as it had arrived.

‘They’re coming for the rest of the herd next week, anyway,’
he croake. ‘Ministry says we have to switch to crops now, ‘cos of the war and that. Mr Sedley’s gutted.’

‘Sorry, Alfie,’ said Ralf. ‘I’ve got more bad news.’ He told him about Seth.

‘Any chance we can stop ‘im?’ Alfie asked.

Ralf shook his head.

‘Perfect timing, eh?’ Alfie said. ‘Today’s the day and brainbox decides to go walkabout.’ He propped his broom in the corner of the barn and adjusted his tam o’ shanter. ‘So, let’s get moving, then. We better track down the others.’

Ten minutes later the remaining Turnarounders were huddled behind fishing baskets and packing crates in the tiny storage yard near Hatcher’s Catch. They were keeping their voices low because Mrs Hatcher was in the shop, only a few feet away.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Leo exclaimed. ‘Ever since we got here Seth’s been going on about acting normal and not altering the course of history.’

Valen snorted. ‘Bearing in mind he’s on his way to France to kill Hitler, I think we can safely say he’s rejected that piece of his own advice!’

Ralf managed a wry smile. ‘But we’re sticking to the plan, okay?

Leo nodded. ‘Watch the Natus. Help them when it all kicks off.’

Ralf cleared his throat. ‘But we’ve got to be careful,’ he said. ‘Stay cool.’

Valen sniggered. When she turned her eyes were merry with laughter.

‘What?’

‘So our plan is basically, ‘keep calm and carry on’?’ she asked.

Ralf shrugged. ‘It really is the best we can do at the moment.’

‘Four minutes past twelve tonight,’ Valen said in awe. ‘Just over eighteen hours, and I feel so helpless!’

‘Me too,’ said Ralf. ‘But in the meantime, we need to discover who killed Kemp. Alfie you’re on the Muntons, okay? Just watching mind.’

‘Off,’ said Alfie, breaking into a crouched run.

‘Leo, you’re with me.’

‘Valentine!’ Mrs Hatcher called from the shop. ‘Val! I need you to wash the counter!’

‘I know. And I’m here keeping my ear to the ground’, Valen sighed, standing. ‘But go down and check on Alfie every now and then, will you
Ralf? He’s not as careful as he should be around Gadd.’

An hour later, Ralf and Leo had failed once more to find the Munton’s Tarzy Wood hideout. Again, Cabal had prowled across the clearing in the woods and nosed round the entrance to the Zero Station but, despite pulling back branches and peering under bushes, they could find no sign of the Munton’s den. Taking Valen’s advice, they hurried back to the harbour to check on Alfie, Shifting where possible and, aware that Burrowes was still on the hunt for Ralf, keeping out of sight.

Once at the harbour, Ralf left Leo and Cabal aboard
The Fisher King
whilst he hurried down to the moorings to check on the youngest Turnarounder. When he got there he saw Alfie’s Crew were, despite the hour, again in position. Alfie, however, was crouched low on the jetty his back resting on the Munton’s boat. The small boy put a finger to his lips then signalled to Ralf. Moving as quietly as a fox, Ralf darted down the stone steps and crept bent double along the wooden mooring to join him at
The Lot's Lady
’s bobbing hull. Concealed by the stack of half-loaded crates they froze, listening. The windows and hatches were closed tight but over the lap of the waves they could just make out the Munton’s conversation.

‘There’s nothing for it but to go through the back! We can’t use the front!’ Gadd growled. ‘Cheeseman or Sedley could turn up at any time. Damn that bunker!’

Ralf felt a rush of pride. He’d been right! The Munton’s hideout was in Tarzy Wood and it must be very near The Zero Station. He smiled. How frustrated the two smugglers must have been when the Zero Station was constructed on their front door step!

‘It’s too dangerous,’ Oyler whined. ‘Were gonna get our heads blowed off
!’

‘I doubt you’d even notice, you girt plank! You’ve not used your noggin for years!’

‘Shut your neck, Gadd! I may not be bright but I knows enough not to go traipsing through a bloomin’ firing range. ‘Specially in the middle of the night when we can’t see all them craters and barbed wire.’

‘Get hold o’ yerself, yer big looby!’ Gadd barked. ‘We made a bargain, see? And we keeps our end of it!’ A chair scraped and something heavy thudded into the boat’s hull on the inside.

‘Mind me head!’ Oyler squealed. ‘There’s no need to be getting nasty wiv me! I never made a bargain with no one!’

‘Ar, but you were right happy to spend the money, weren’t you!’

‘I din’t know it’d be like this. No more did you!’

‘No, well true as that maybe, He’s seen us right so far. When the
coppers were getting close He sorted it. He said the Bakery fire’d be a distraction and it worked.’

Ralf started and had to hold on to the jetty to stop himself knocking the side of the boat. The Fire! Gordon Kemp! Part of him wanted to leap on to
The Lot's Lady
and scream at the brothers, slinking cowards that they were, but he stopped himself. Alfie was gripping on to the coil of rope next to him his eyes round in angry surprise.

‘We haven’t seen hide nor hair of Burrowes since,’ Gadd went on. ‘I say we follow instructions and handover tonight.’

‘But this is bigger than you bargained for and you know it! You said they’d stop looking for him after a few weeks but they never. I haven’t slept since we took him over on Hallowe’en,’ whined Oyler. ‘He’s got friends in high places. He knows Churchill! And that’s not a man to get on the wrong side of!’ ‘You know what happened to the Sidney Street Gang! Went after them his-self, he did. That Churchill will show no mercy.’

Ralf’s brain was scrambled for a moment. There was far too much information to process. Were the Muntons really talking about what he thought they were? It couldn’t be that it had been them all along? They had kidnapped Charles Hart? He reme
mbered the mysterious figures he and Leo had followed on Hallowe’en. The humped shape he'd seen on Grianstad and looked at Alfie incredulously. It had been right under their noses for months! Alfie nodded.

‘Now listen here,’ Gadd’s voice was urgent. ‘If we don’t do this… If we don’t see it through… If anyone were to find out what we’ve done...we’ll swing for it. A long drop off a short rope.’

Oyler whimpered again. ‘But there’s dark things down there, Gadd! Evil things!’ His wavering voice was pitiful to hear. ‘We’ll be killed! Or worse!’

A little squeal of terror seeped through the wooden hull.

‘Yes, there is and yes we may be but I tell you what, brother,’ Gadd said, darkly. ‘I’d rather hang than have to explain to HIM why we never done as we were told. You were there at Christmas when HE came after we restocked! HE won’t show no mercy. HE won’t give us a last meal. HE’s got power that one. Power that Churchill can only dream of!’

There were muffled sobs from aboard the vessel.

‘Crying?’ mouthed Alfie, appalled.

Ralf nodded. He never thought he’d feel sorry for Oyler but the sound of his weeping was pitiful. He signalled to Alfie. The two slid out of their hiding place and inched away along the jetty. They joined Alfie’s Crew on the dockside.

It was a good job they moved when they did because the hatch on
The Lot's Lady
suddenly crashed open. Gadd emerged from the cabin to fix them with his beetle black eyes.

‘Still playing our little game, are we?’ He tried for a smile, an effect ruined by the collection of mossy green teeth the expression revealed, and jumped down on to the jetty. Alice Cheeseman shuddered and took a step back.

‘Got nothing better to do, Osborne?’ Gadd continued, sauntering towards them.

Ralf didn’t reply. He stared back at the man as though he were diseased. Alfie, Alice and her two friends followed suit.

Gadd climbed the steps until he stood in front of them on the quay.

‘Well, it’s been a fine lark for you,’ he said with a syrupy grin. ‘You’ve spooked us proper. But the joke’s over now, see?’

He turned to Alice, who valiantly stood her ground, despite the shiver that ran through her. You kids get off and play somewhere else.’ Gadd extracted a flick knife from his pocket. His faked good humour fell away as he popped the button and the blade slid forward.

‘Clear off, out of it! You’d better not be here when I come back, see? Or things could go nasty.’ He made a show of cleaning a black fingernail with the knife then held it up to glint in the sun. ‘A good knife, that!’ he said locking eyes with Alfie. He closed the knife, turned abruptly and strode off down the
jetty.

Ralf watched him go whilst Alfie reassured his Crew with a nod of thanks for the lads and a wink and a pat on the back for Alice.

‘Keep it up, bluds,’ he said, taking a quick look at his pocket watch, ‘I’ll be back in about an hour.’

Ralf stopped and stared at the deer engraved on the silver watch.

‘Let’s walk,’ he said grabbing Alfie by the arm

‘Oi, watch it, b
ruv!’

‘Look!’ Ralf exclaimed dragging him down the quayside, pointing to the stag on the lid. ‘It’s a deer! A hart! This is Charles Hart’s watch! Look at the engraving ‘from W
.L.S.C!’ Churchill’s initials. 1916.’

‘You know what that means, innit?’

Ralf slapped the side of his own head in a gesture of frustration. ‘The dolls and the wails at the Sedleys’ on Hallowe’en were a diversion! Of course they were! Leo and I saw the car headlights and we followed the Muntons right into Tarzy Wood, right to the clearing by the Zero Station. They must have been moving Hart into their hideout!’

‘And I found the watch on the road
the very next day,’ Alfie said.

‘He must have lost it in the struggle.’

‘Or dropped it deliberate, maybe,’ Alfie suggested. ‘A clue for people looking for him. And I never done nothing! I’ve had it all this time...’ Alfie looked stricken.

‘And there was another diversion on Grianstad. The fireworks and the blood at the Christmas party in the Village Hall! You heard them, right?’

‘They restocked their hideout and whoever’s paying them went with them to check on Hart. They’re well scared of him, whoever
He
is,’ said Alfie with some satisfaction.

Ralf thought back to Grianstad night. The strange humped figure he’d seen right before the
Shadows appeared and he’d Shifted away. He’d
known
it was them! ‘We have to go to Burrowes,’ he said.

‘
Did you hit your head again?’ Alfie exclaimed. ‘He’s more likely to arrest you than listen to you! He didn’t believe us before and he won’t now! He’s convinced you murdered Kemp, probably with our help, and we got no proof that the Munton’s have Hart or that it’s all connected!’

‘But the watch,’ Ralf insisted.

‘Means nothing!’ Alfie shot back. ‘You got to wake up, bruv. All the watch does is point to me being guilty of not handing in lost property. Burrowes won’t care that we didn’t make the connection between the watch and Hart and he won’t give a monkeys that I checked it with the Sedleys neither! He’s got me pegged as a thief and that’s all he’ll see!’

Ralf frowned. Put that way, the case against them seemed very strong indeed. ‘So there’s nothing for it but to try and find proof, or try and solve the problem ourselves.’

Alfie nodded vigorously. ‘It’s our word against the Muntons’, mate. And let’s face it, as a suspected murderer and a known thief; we ain’t exactly pillars of the community.’

Ralf had to agree. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘We keep away from Burrowes.’ He looked up at the sun, which was beginning to climb a clear blue sky. ‘We’ve got a lot to do, you know. And not much time.’