‘Well? Old people like pickles.’

‘Yes, but these are … kind of new and old at the same time. And there was fish and chips wrapped up in a newspaper.’

‘Well?’

‘No one wraps up fish and chips in newspaper these days. But they all looked fresh. I had a look because I thought I might as well give the fish to the cat, and the newspaper …’

Johnny stopped.

What could he say? That he knew that front page? He knew every word of it. He’d found the same one on the microfiche in the library and the librarian had given him a copy to help him with his history project. He’d never seen it apart from the copy and the fuzzy image on the screen and suddenly there it was, unfolded in front of him, greasy and vinegary but undoubtedly …

… new.

‘Well, let’s have a look at them, at least. That can’t hurt.’

Kasandra was like that. When all else failed, she tried being reasonable.

The big black car sped up the motorway. There were two motorcyclists in front and two more behind, and another car trailing behind them containing some serious men in suits who listened to little radios a lot and wouldn’t even trust their mothers.

Sir John sat by himself in the back of the black car, with his hands crossed on his silver-topped walking stick and his chin on his hands.

There were two screens in front of him, which showed him various facts and figures to do with his companies around the world, beamed down to him from a satellite, which he also owned. There were also two fax machines and three telephones.

Sir John sat and stared at them.

Then he reached over and pressed the button that operated the driver’s intercom.

He’d never liked Hickson much. The man had a red neck. On the other hand, he was the only person there was to talk to right now.

‘Do you believe it’s possible to travel in time, Hickson?’

‘Couldn’t say, sir,’ said the chauffeur, without turning his head.

‘It’s been done, you know.’

‘If you say so, sir.’

‘Time’s been changed.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Of course, you wouldn’t know about it, because you were in the time that it changed into.’

‘Good thing for me then, sir.’

‘Did you know that when you change time you get two futures heading off side by side?’

‘Must have missed that in school, sir.’

‘Like a pair of trousers.’

‘Definitely something to think about, Sir John.’

SirJohn stared at the back of the man’s neck. It really was very red, and had unpleasant little patches of hair on it. He hadn’t hired the man, of course. He had people who had people who had people who did things like that. It had never occurred to them to employ a chauffeur with an interest in something else besides what the car in front was doing.

‘Take the next left turn,’ he snapped.

‘We’re still twenty miles from Blackbury, sir.’