Johnny and the Bomb (16 page)

‘Why're you wearing that fur coat, Kirsty?' said Johnny. ‘You always say that wearing the skins of dead animals is murder.'

‘Yeah, but she only says it to old ladies in fur coats,' muttered Bigmac under his breath. ‘Bet she never says it to Hell's Angels in leather jackets.'

‘
I
took some care,' said Kirsty, ignoring him. She adjusted her hat and shoulder bag. ‘This is pretty accurate.'

‘What, even the shoulders?'

‘Yes. Shoulders were being worn wide.'

‘Do you have to go through doors sideways?' said Yo-less.

‘Let's get on with it, shall we?'

‘What's worrying me is when old Wobb … I mean,
old
old Wobbler … said we've got to do the
right things to bring him back,' said Yo-less. ‘What things?'

‘We'll have to find out,' said Johnny. ‘He didn't say it was easy.'

‘Come on,' said Bigmac, opening the door. ‘I miss old Wobbler.'

‘Why?' said Kirsty.

‘'Cos I don't throw straight.'

The keep-fit people had long ago staggered home. Johnny shoved the trolley into the middle of the floor, and stared at the sacks. Guilty was still asleep on a couple of them.

‘Er … ' said Yo-less. ‘This isn't
magic
, is it?'

‘I don't think so,' said Johnny. ‘It's probably just very, very, very strange science.'

‘Oh, good,' said Yo-less. ‘Er … what's the difference?'

‘Who cares?' said Kirsty. ‘Get on with it.'

Guilty started to purr.

Johnny picked up a bag. It seemed to wriggle in his grasp. With great care, he loosened the string.

And concentrated.

It was easier this time. Before, he'd just been dragged along like a cork in a current. This time he knew where he was going. He could
feel
the time.

Minds moved in time all the time. All the sacks did was let your body come too, just like Mrs Tachyon had said.

Years spiralled into the bag like water down a plughole. Time sucked out of the room.

And then there were the pews, and the scent of highly-polished holiness.

And Wobbler, turning around with his mouth open.

‘
What
—?'

‘It's all right, it's us,' said Johnny.

‘Are you all right?' said Yo-less.

Wobbler might not have been the winner of the All-Europe Uptake Speed Trials, but an expression of deep suspicion spread across his face as he looked at them.

‘What's up?' he said. ‘You're all looking at me as if I'd gone weird! And what're you all dressed up for? Why's Bigmac wearing a German uniform?'

‘See?' said Yo-less triumphantly. ‘I
said
so, and does anyone listen?'

‘We've just come back to fetch you,' said Johnny. ‘There's no problem.'

‘That's right. No problem at all,' said Yo-less. ‘Everything's fine.'

‘Yeah, fine. Everything's fine,' said Bigmac. ‘Er … you're not feeling …
old
, are you?'

‘What? After five minutes?' said Wobbler.

‘I've brung you something,' said Bigmac. He took a square, flat shape from his pocket. It was
rather battered, but it was nevertheless the only styrofoam box currently existing on the planet.

It was a BigWob … One with Everything.

‘Did you nick that?' said Yo-less.

‘Well, the old bloke said he wasn't going to eat it,' said Bigmac. ‘So it'd only get chucked away, all right? It's not stealing if it'd only get chucked away. Anyway, it
is
his, isn't it, because—'

‘You're not going to
eat
that, are you?' said Kirsty quickly. ‘It's cold and greasy and it's been in Bigmac's pocket, for heaven's sake.'

Wobbler lifted out the bun.

‘I could eat it even if a giraffe'd licked it,' he said, and bit into the cold bread. ‘Hey, this isn't bad! Whose is it?' He looked at the face printed on the box. ‘Who's the old fart with the beard?'

‘Just some old fart,' said Johnny.

‘Yeah, we don't know anything about him at all,' said Bigmac.

Wobbler gave them a suspicious look.

‘What's going on here?' he said.

‘Look, I can't explain now,' said Johnny. ‘You're … stuck here. Er. Apparently, er, something's gone wrong. Er. There's been a snag.'

‘What kind of snag?'

‘Er. Quite a big one.'

Wobbler stopped eating. It was
that
serious.

‘How big?' he said.

‘Er. You're not going to be born … er.'

Wobbler stared at him. Then he stared at the half-eaten burger.

‘Am I eating this burger? Are these my teeth marks?' he demanded.

‘Look, it's perfectly
simple
,' said Kirsty. ‘You're alive here, yes, but when we first came back, something must have happened which changed history. Everything anyone does changes history. So there's two histories. You were born in one, but things have been changed and when we got back it was into a different history where you weren't. All we have to do is put things back the way they should be, and then everything will be all right.'

‘Hah! You haven't got a shelf of Star Trek videos as well, have you?' said Wobbler.

Kirsty looked as though someone had hit her.

‘Well, er, I don't, er, what?' she said. ‘Er … one or two … a few … not many … so what, anyway? I hardly ever look at them!'

‘Hey,' said Yo-less, brightening up, ‘have you got that one where a mysterious force—'

‘Just shut up! Just shut up right now! Just because the programme happens to be an accurate reflection of late 20th century social concerns,
actually
, it doesn't mean you can go around winding people up just because they've been taking an academic interest!'

‘Have you got a Star Trek uniform?' said Yo-less.

Kirsty started to go red.

‘If any of you tell
anybody
else there'll be big trouble,' said Kirsty. ‘I mean it!'

Johnny opened the door of the church. Outside, Wednesday afternoon was turning into Wednesday evening. It was raining gently. He took a deep breath of 1941 air. It smelled of coal and pickles and jam, with a hint of hot rubber. People were
making
things. All those chimneys …

No one made anything in Blackbury in 1996. There was a factory that put together computers, and some big warehouses, and the Department of Road Signs regional headquarters. People just moved things around, or added up numbers.

‘So I watch some science fiction films,' said a plaintive voice behind him. ‘At least I do it in a spirit of intelligent deconstruction. I don't just sit there saying “Cor, lasers, brill!”'

‘No one said you did,' said Yo-less, managing to sound infuriatingly reasonable.

‘You're not going to let me forget this, are you?' said Kirsty.

‘Won't mention it ever again,' said Yo-less.

‘If we do, may we be pulled apart by wild Vegans,' said Bigmac, smirking.

‘No, vegans are the people who don't eat animal
products,' said Yo-less. ‘You mean Vulcans. Vulcans are the ones with green blood—'

‘Will you lot shut up? Here's me not even being born and you're goin' on about daft aliens!' said Wobbler.

‘What did we do here that changed the future?' said Johnny, turning around.

‘Practically everything, I suppose,' said Kirsty. ‘And Bigmac left all his stuff at the police station.'

‘They shot at me—'

‘Let's face it,' said Yo-less, ‘
anything
we do changes the future. Maybe we bumped into someone so he was five seconds late crossing the road and got hit by a car or something. Like treading on a dinosaur. Any little thing changes the whole of history.'

‘That's daft,' said Bigmac. ‘I mean, rivers still flow the same way no matter how the little fish swim.'

‘Er …' said Wobbler. ‘There was this … kid …'

He said it in the slow, plonking tones of someone who is afraid that he might have come up with an important piece of evidence.

‘What kid?' said Johnny.

‘Just some kid,' said Wobbler. ‘He was running away from home or something.
To
home, I mean. All long shorts and bogeys up the nose.'

‘What do you mean, running to home?'

‘Oh, he was goin' on about being evacuated here and being fed up and running off back to London. But he followed me back into town throwing stones at me 'cos he said I was a spy. He's probably still outside, 's'matter of fact. He ran off down that road there.'

‘Paradise Street?' said Johnny.

‘What about it?' said Wobbler, looking worried.

‘It's going to be bombed tonight,' said Kirsty. ‘Johnny's got a thing about it.'

‘Hah, can't see any Germans wanting to bomb
him
, he was practically on their side,' said Wobbler.

‘Are you sure it was Paradise Street?' said Johnny. ‘Are you
sure
? Did you have any relatives there? Grandparents?
Great
-grandparents?'

‘How should I know? That was ages ago!'

Johnny took a deep breath. ‘It's right now!'

‘I-I-I don't know! One of my grandads lives in Spain and the other one died before I was born!'

‘How?' said Kirsty.

‘Fell off a motorbike, I think. In 1971.' Wobbler brightened up. ‘See? So that's all right.'

‘Oh, Wobbler, Wobbler, it's
not
all right!' said Johnny. ‘Get it into your head! Where did he live?'

Wobbler was trembling, as he always did when life was getting too exciting.

‘I dunno! London, I think! My dad said he came
up here in the war! And then later on he came back on a visit and met my grandma! Er! Er!'

‘Go on! Go on!' said Johnny.

‘Er! Er!' Wobbler stuttered.

‘How old was he when he died?' said Yo-less.

‘Er! Forty, my dad said! Er! He'd bought the bike for his birthday!'

‘So he's …' Johnny subtracted in his head … ten now?'

‘Er! Er!'

‘You don't think he was that boy, do you?' said Yo-less.

‘Oh, yes,' said Wobbler, finally giving up panic for anger. ‘I should have asked him, should I? “Hello, are you going to be my grandad? PS don't buy a motorbike”?'

Johnny fished in his gas mask box and pulled out a crumpled folder stuffed with bits of paper.

‘Did he mention any names?' he said, flicking through the pages.

‘Er! Er! Someone called Mrs Density!' said Wobbler, desperation throwing up a memory.

‘Number Eleven,' said Johnny, pulling out a photocopy of a newspaper clipping. ‘Lived there with her daughter Gladys. I got all the names for my project.'

‘My gran's name was Gladys!' said Wobbler. ‘You mean, because he
didn't
run off back to London,
he's going to die tonight and I'm not going to be born?'

‘Could be,' said Yo-less.

‘What'll happen to me?'

‘You'll just have to stay here,' said Johnny.

‘No way! This is the
olden days
! It's awful! I went past a cinema and it's all old movies! In black and white! And there was this cafe and you know what they'd got chalked on a board in front? “Meat and two veg”! What kind of food is that? Even Hong Kong Henry's takeaway tells you what
kind
of meat! Everyone dresses like someone out of Eastern Europe! I'd go round the bend here!'

‘My grandad always goes on about how they used to have so much fun when he was a kid even though they didn't have anything,' said Bigmac.

‘Yes, but everyone's grandad says that,' said Kirsty. ‘It's compulsory. It's like where they say “50p for a chocolate bar? When I was young you could get one and still have change out of sixpence.”'

‘I think they had fun,' said Johnny, ‘because they didn't
know
they didn't have anything.'

‘Well,
I
know,' said Wobbler. ‘I know about food that's more than two colours, and stereo systems, and decent music and … and all kinds of stuff. I want to go
home
!'

They all looked at Johnny.

‘You got us into this,' said Yo-less.

‘Me?'

‘It's your imagination,' said Kirsty. ‘It's too big. for your head, just like Sir J …' She stopped. ‘Just like I've always said,' she corrected herself, ‘and it drags everyone else along with it. I don't know how, but it does. You got all worked up about Paradise Street, and now here we are.'

‘You said it didn't make any difference if the street got bombed or not,' said Johnny. ‘
You
said it was just history!'

‘
I
don't want to be history!' moaned Wobbler.

‘All
right
, you
win
,' said Kirsty. ‘What do you want us to do?'

Johnny shuffled the papers.

‘Well … what I found out for my project was that … there was a big storm, you see. The weather got very bad. And the bombers must've seen Blackbury and dropped their bombs
anyway
and turned around. That used to happen. There was … there is an air-raid siren. It was supposed to go off if bombers were near,' he said. ‘Only it didn't.'

‘Why not?'

The folder shut with a snap.

‘Let's start by finding out,' said Johnny.

It was on a pole on the roof in the High Street. It didn't look very big.

‘That's all it is?' said Yo-less. ‘Looks like a giant yo-yo.'

‘That's an air-raid siren all right,' said Kirsty. ‘I saw a picture in a book.'

‘How d'they work? Set off by radar or something?'

‘I'm sure that's not been invented yet,' said Johnny.

‘Well, how then?'