‘I’ve got Mr Stickers, the chief compositor,’ he said. ‘He says they’re just clearing the front page and what do we want?’

The captain glanced at the paper, and sniffed at it.

‘Fish? Never mind … is there an advertisement for Johnson’s Cocoa in the bottom left hand corner of the page? Don’t stare. Ask him.’

There was some mumbling.

‘He says yes, but—’

The captain turned the page over.

‘On page two, is there a single column story headed “Fined 2/6d for Bike Offence”? On the crossword, is One Down “Bird of Stone, We Hear” with three letters? Next to an advertisement for Plant’s Brushless Shaving Creams? Ask him.’

The sergeant glared at him, but spoke to the distant Stickers.

‘Roc,’ said Kirsty, in an absentminded way.

The captain raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s a mythical bird, I think,’ said Yo-less, in the same hypnotized voice. ‘Spelled like “rock” but without a K. “We hear” means it sounds the same.’

‘He says yes,’ said the sergeant. ‘He says—’

‘Thank you. Tell him to be ready in case … no, let’s not be hasty … just thank him.’

There was a click when the sergeant put the phone down.

Then the captain said, ‘Do you know how long we’ve got?’

‘Three minutes,’ said Johnny.

‘Can we get on the roof, sergeant?’ said the captain.

‘Dunno, but—’

‘Is there some other siren in the town?’

‘There’s a manky old wind-up thing we used to use, but—’

‘Where is it?’

‘It’s under the bench in the Lost Property cupboard but—’

There was a leathery noise and suddenly the captain was holding a pistol.

‘You can argue with me afterwards,’ he said. ‘You can report me to whomever you like. But right now you can give me the keys or unlock the blasted cupboard, or I’ll shoot the lock off. And I’ve always wanted to try that, believe me.’

‘You don’t believe these kids, do—’

‘Sergeant!’

In a sudden panic, the sergeant fumbled in his pockets and trotted across the room.

‘You do believe us?’ said Kirsty.

‘I’m not sure,’ said the captain, as the sergeant dragged out something big and heavy. ‘Thank you, sergeant. Let’s get it outside. No. I’m not sure at all, young lady. But I might believe that watch. Besides … if I’m wrong, then all that will happen is that I’ll look foolish, and I daresay the sergeant will give you all a thick ear. If I’m right then … this won’t happen?’ He waved the paper.

‘I … think so,’ said Johnny. ‘I don’t even know if any of this will happen …’

Bigmac was on the floor with Wobbler on top of him. Wobbler might not know how to fight, but he did know how to weigh.

‘Get off!’ said Bigmac, flailing around. Trying vicious street-fight punches on Wobbler was like hitting a pillow.

‘I’m still alive in 1996, aren’t I?’ said Wobbler. ‘’Cos I’ve been born, right? So even if I never time travel back I ought to still be alive in 1996, right? I bet you know something about me!’