Kirsty’s patience, which in any case was only visible with special scientific equipment, came to an end.

‘Don’t you patronize us, you ridiculous buffoon!’ she screamed.

The sergeant went red and took a deep breath. Then it was let out suddenly.

‘Hey, where do you think you’re going?’

Tom had scrambled over the desk. The soldier stood up but was pushed out of the way.

The young man reached the switch, and pulled it down.

Chapter 11

You Want Fries With That?

Wobbler and Bigmac skulked behind the church.

‘They’ve been gone a long time,’ said Bigmac.

‘It’s a long way up there,’ said Wobbler.

‘I bet something’s happened. They’ve been shot or something.’

‘Huh, I thought you liked guns,’ said Wobbler.

‘I don’t mind guns. I don’t like bullets,’ said Bigmac. ‘And I don’t want to get stuck here with you!’

‘We’ve got the time trolley,’ said Wobbler. ‘But do you know how to work it? I reckon you’ve got to be half mental like Johnny to work it. I don’t want to end up fighting Romans or something.’

‘You won’t,’ said Bigmac.

He froze as he realized what he’d said. Wobbler homed in.

‘What do you mean, stuck here with you? What does happen if I don’t go home?’ he said. ‘You lot went back to 1996. I wasn’t there, right?’

‘Oh, you don’t want to know any stuff like that,’ said Bigmac.

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘You come in here and act cheeky—’ the sergeant began.

‘Be quiet!’ snapped Captain Harris, standing up. ‘Why doesn’t your siren work?’

‘We tests it every Tuesday and Friday, reg’lar—’ said the sergeant.

‘There’s a hole in the ceiling,’ said Yo-less.

Tom stood looking at the switch. He was certain he’d done his bit. He wasn’t sure how, but he’d done it. And things that should be happening next weren’t happening.

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he mumbled.

‘Your man fired a gun,’ said the sergeant. ‘We never did know where the bullet went.’

‘We know now,’ said the captain grimly. ‘It’s hit a wire somewhere.’

‘There’s got to be some other way,’ said Johnny. ‘It mustn’t end like this! Not after everything! Look!’

He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and held it up.

‘What’s that?’ said the captain.

‘It’s tomorrow’s newspaper,’ said Johnny. ‘If the siren doesn’t go off.’

The captain stared at it.

‘Oh, trying to pull our leg, eh?’ said the police sergeant nervously.

The captain turned his eyes from the paper to Johnny’s wrist. He grabbed it.

‘Where did you get this watch?’ he snapped. ‘I’ve seen one like it before! Where do you come from, boy?’

‘Here,’ said Johnny. ‘Sort of. But not … now.’

There was a moment’s silence. Then the captain nodded at the sergeant.

‘Ring up the local newspaper, will you?’ he said. ‘It’s a morning paper, isn’t it? Someone should still be there.’

‘You’re not seriously—’

‘Please do it.’

Seconds ticked by as the policeman huddled over the big black phone. He muttered a few words.