by Rob Childs
‘Get started on those tins, lad. Time is money, remember. Third law. I don’t want to be here all night.’
‘No, and I bet you don’t want to spend it in hospital either,’ Chris muttered under his breath.
As Chris set about his tasks again, he was planning how to prevent the accident. But he still remembered to put the tin of soup the wrong way round to test his father’s powers of observation. He also took the chance to go and tell Becky about the steps, realising that this time she had not travelled back in time with him for some reason.
‘Why didn’t you come with me?’ he said, almost accusingly.
‘I didn’t even know you’d gone,’ she retorted. ‘It hasn’t happened yet.’
Chris nodded slowly. It all seemed very confusing. ‘Anyway, it just shows how useful this watch is,’ he said. ‘Y’know, the way it can let us stop people getting hurt, for instance.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘So long as we do only use it in emergencies.’
‘Depends what you mean by emergencies.’
Becky looked at him suspiciously. ‘And just what do you mean, little brother?’
Chris turned away to avoid having to confess all the things that would be added to his list – like having enough time to finish his homework, for a start.
Dad’s own work was interrupted by the occasional customer coming in for drinks or items of food that had run low over the weekend.
‘Just sold Mrs Brown that loaf I thought I’d have to throw out,’ he chuckled. ‘Her old man’s going to get some stale sandwiches in his packed lunch tomorrow.’
‘You didn’t have to sell it,’ Chris said, knowing the answer.
‘First law of shopkeeping, lad. The customer is always right,’ Dad said and then gave a grin. ‘Even when they’re wrong. Business is business.’
Having worked a little quicker this time around, Chris was already dealing with the cereal boxes when Dad called him over to help.
‘Come and give us a hand a minute, lad. Need you to hold these steps steady while I tidy that top shelf.’
‘Isn’t it about time we got some new steps, Dad?’ Chris said for the second time.
‘If they were good enough for your old grandad, they’re good enough for me.’
That was the cue for Chris to take decisive – and dramatic – action. Before his dad could mount the steps, he jumped up onto them and deliberately made them wobble.
‘Be careful!’
Dad’s warning was to no avail. The steps tottered and then collapsed, but Chris was ready, leaping off and rolling away across the floor so they wouldn’t land on top of him. The crash brought everyone running, as before, and a noisy, nosy Tan was soon on the scene, licking Chris’s face.
‘Get off, daft dog,’ he cried, struggling to get up.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Dad anxiously as Mum fussed over him too.
‘I’m OK,’ Chris insisted, putting on a brave act, but slipping Becky a sly wink. ‘Just a few bruises in the morning, I expect, that’s all.’
‘What on earth were you doing?’ said Mum.
‘Just doing my bit,’ he said. ‘Y’know, trying to help Dad, like.’
‘Aye, well,’ Dad sighed. ‘You were probably right about those old steps. Should’ve got rid of ’em years ago.’
‘I’ve been telling you that, too,’ said Mum. ‘If it’d been you falling off them, you might have broken your neck.’
‘Or a leg,’ put in Becky. ‘Dead easy!’
‘Right, come into the kitchen, Chris,’ Mum told him, ‘and let me have a look at that arm, just to make sure there’s no real damage done.’
‘Oh, just one thing before you go, lad.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Put that tin of soup the right way round, will you.’
Chris grinned. ‘Sorry, Dad.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Extra Time
‘What’s this?’
‘Er … it’s my homework, Mr Samuels,’ said Chris.
The teacher held up the dirty, crumpled sheets of paper for the rest of the class to see. ‘It looks like something the dog’s dragged in.’
Chris reddened as he felt all eyes turn towards him, with Luke’s laughter louder than anyone’s. The teacher wasn’t far wrong. It was true that Tan’s wet paws had walked over the top page that morning when it had fallen onto the floor at home, but the real damage had been done by Luke.
As Chris had been sorting through the pages in the classroom, hoping that Mr Samuels would not mind the paw prints too much – and perhaps even make a joke of it – Luke had snatched the sheets from him, screwed them up and then tossed them into the waste bin.
‘Sorry, Mr Samuels,’ Chris said, running a hand through his hair. He had no intention of telling tales. He wasn’t like that, as Luke knew only too well.
‘I should think so, too, Christopher,’ said the teacher. ‘But I’m afraid being sorry isn’t enough. You will have to stay in at lunch and write this out all over again.’
Luke sniggered. ‘Serves you right, Jacko,’ he hissed across the table. ‘And I haven’t finished with you yet.’
Chris glanced across the room at Becky. She was about the only one not smiling at his discomfort. He wished now that she hadn’t persuaded him to leave the Timewatch at home.
‘Who wants to have an extra hour of school?’ she had said to convince him that she was right.
It was a fair point, but he could have gone back an hour and made sure that Luke had no chance to get him into trouble. Now he would have to miss the lunch-time game of football in the playground.
Chris tried to keep a low profile for the rest of the morning, not wanting to attract the attention of his teacher again. Luke, however, had other ideas. He kicked Chris under the table, making him yelp in pain and surprise.
‘Was that you making that noise, Christopher?’ demanded the teacher.
‘Sorry, Mr Samuels.’
‘Sorry, Mr Samuels,’ mocked Luke out of the corner of his mouth.
‘Then please be quiet. Some people here are trying to work.’
Luke sniggered. ‘Not exactly Sammy’s blue-eyed boy this morning, are you, Christopher?’ He kicked out again but Chris was ready for him, grabbing Luke’s foot and yanking him off his chair.
Mr Samuels put the blame on Luke this time. ‘You can join Christopher in here at lunch,’ he told him, ‘and get on with that Maths you haven’t done yet.’
Becky drifted by their table a few minutes later on her way to the other side of the room to return a book to a shelf. ‘You boys having fun together?’ she said, smiling.
Luke swore at her, but she kept smiling. She was also keen to carry out her own little act of revenge for yesterday’s insult in the market. On the way back to her seat, via the sink, she passed behind Luke and tipped some water down the back of his neck.
She sat down at her own table, the very picture of innocence, and resumed her work while Luke’s loud complaints went unheeded by the teacher.
The running feud continued throughout the day.
When Mr Samuels left the room briefly, he returned to find the two boys brawling on the floor and gave them both extra work to do at home. During the afternoon, he had to stop them flicking pencils at each other across the table and then he caught Luke and Becky squabbling over the use of some science apparatus.
The teacher’s patience finally ran out and he sat all three in separate corners of the room with strict orders not to move for the rest of the session.
Despite their differences, the trio still took part as usual in the after-school football practice. Surprisingly, Mr Samuels seemed pleased to see them, but that might have been because Luke was the team’s top scorer that season.
The squad was divided into four groups for a series of five-a-side games and Luke was delighted to find himself playing against Chris in the first match.
‘Sucker for punishment, ain’t yer, Jacko,’ he sneered. ‘Always coming back for mo
re. When you gonna realise you’re useless in goal?’
The criticism stung. Chris would have been the first to admit that the regular first-team goalie, Butch, was better than him, but he certainly wasn’t useless. And neither was he in the mood for any more cheek from Luke.
‘Well you won’t score against me in this game,’ he boasted.
Luke laughed. ‘We’ll see about that.’
Both boys were determined to outdo the other. Chris was in inspired form, saving everything that Luke’s team could fire at him, but Luke was perhaps guilty of trying too hard to score.
‘Don’t be greedy,’ called Mr Samuels when Luke shot straight at Chris from a narrow angle. ‘You should have passed to somebody in a better position.’
Luke scowled. The only thing that mattered right now was that he should put the ball past Chris himself and time was running out. Much to his relief, and Chris’s dismay, the striker finally managed to poke the ball into the net from close range beneath the keeper’s desperate dive.
‘One-nil!’ Luke cried. ‘The winner!’
And so it proved, with Luke taking great delight in taunting Chris further before the teams swapped around to play new opponents.
‘Right, that does it,’ Chris muttered under his breath. ‘I really will come back for more now. We’re going to play extra time!’
He excused himself from the practice, telling his teacher that he was not feeling very well. As soon as he was out of sight, though, Chris broke into a run and didn’t stop until he reached home. Fortunately, his parents were busy in the store and he was able to enter the house through the back garden, fuss Tan and slip up to his room to collect the Timewatch from the top drawer of his bedside cabinet.
To save his energy, Chris did not bother to hurry back to school. He simply pressed the red button…
Click!
…and transported himself back through time by one hour.
‘Hmm, perhaps that wasn’t a great idea,’ he mused, finding himself sitting in a corner of the classroom again. ‘Should’ve left it a bit longer.’
During the warm-up routine at the start of football practice, Chris managed to snatch a few words with Becky.
‘I’m back,’ he said.
‘What?’ she replied, concentrating on her stretching exercises. ‘You’ve not been anywhere.’
‘Yes, I have. I’ve been home.’
She realised what that meant. ‘I thought we agreed not to bring that thing,’ she said crossly.
‘I needed it for an action replay,’ he said, grinning.
Sadly for Chris, the grin was soon wiped off his face. Having exchanged words with Luke, as before, the game followed a different pattern after Chris himself went and changed the script in the very first minute.
When the striker tried a hopeful, long-range drive, Chris had already moved into position to repeat his earlier save. This time, however, perhaps through over-confidence, he was too casual and allowed the ball to squirm from his grasp and over the line.
‘One-nil!’ cried Luke. ‘Easy!’
Chris held his head in his gloved hands in horror. He could not believe what he had just gone and done. ‘That wasn’t supposed to happen!’ he wailed miserably.
The mistake proved costly. Boosted by the goal, their opponents played with greater confidence and Chris had to pick the ball out of the net three more times in a 4-1 defeat. And to add to Chris’s misery, Luke even scored a hat trick.
‘Told you, Jacko,’ he gloated. ‘You’re useless in goal!’
Chris shook his head in dismay, recalling the final line of the rhyme on the back of the Timewatch, and realising it could indeed work out both ways…
…for better or worse.
CHAPTER FIVE
Time for Action
‘Can’t say I didn’t warn you, little brother,’ Becky chuckled as they strolled along the bank of the river after tea. ‘Serves you right!’
Chris shrugged and tossed a stick into the early evening mist for Tan to fetch.
‘Just unlucky, that’s all,’ he grunted. ‘Anybody can have an off day.’
‘Yes, but they don’t normally want to make it last even longer, do they?’
Chris nodded. ‘Fair enough,’ he conceded, half wishing that he hadn’t told his twin about using – or misusing – the Timewatch to replay a game of football. ‘I’ve learnt my lesson. I won’t do it again.’
By contrast, Becky was in a good mood after scoring a goal in each of her own team’s matches. The best was a left-footed volley which had flown past Chris into the top corner of the net. He would not be allowed to forget that for quite some time.
‘I’m glad you didn’t try to wipe out my goal,’ she said, grinning.
‘Couldn’t be bothered by then,’ he muttered. ‘I was past caring.’
They were quiet for a while, lost in thought, and only Tan’s excited barking disturbed the peaceful atmosphere by the river. She seemed to have picked up the scent of some creature and was following its trail.
‘Weird, the way things can change,’ Chris said suddenly. ‘Y’know, how they can work out differently, if you have a second chance – like recording over something else on a tape.’
Becky considered that for a few moments and then sighed. ‘Well, you can only do what you think is right at the time, even if that turns out to be wrong,’ she said. ‘Life’s not a dress rehearsal. It’s the real thing.’
‘Is it? I’m not so sure any more,’ Chris replied doubtfully and then switched his attention towards the farm on the edge of the village. ‘Now that’s what I call a big bonfire. Just look at those flames!’
Becky stared through the mist. ‘The farmer must know what he’s doing.’
‘Not if his daughter’s anything to go by,’ Chris said with a smirk. ‘She isn’t nicknamed Zany Zoe for nothing.’
‘Zoe’s all right really, she’s just a bit…’ Becky paused, struggling to find the right adjective to describe Zoe’s somewhat eccentric behaviour at school, ‘…scatty, that’s all.’
‘Scatty!’ Chris scoffed. ‘She makes even Luke seem sensible – almost.’
‘Let’s go to the farm and see if she’s around.’
‘Why? I didn’t know you two were mates.’
‘We’re not,’ Becky said. ‘I just want an excuse to go and stand near that bonfire and get warm.’
As the twins neared the farm, however, the flames were shooting up even higher and they could hear people shouting and the noise of frightened animals.
‘They might need help,’ Becky cried. ‘C’mon – run!’
Chris managed to grab Tan and put her on the lead to stop her chasing after his sister. By the time he entered the farmyard, the fire was out of control and had spread to the barn. He could make out two or three figures trying to douse the flames with hoses, but their efforts seemed to be having little effect.
Becky came racing back. ‘We’ve got to do something,’ she gasped. ‘Have you still got the watch?’
‘Sure,’ said Chris, fishing it out of his coat pocket.
‘Well use it. Sounds like there are animals trapped in the barn.’
‘Is Zoe there?’
‘No idea,’ she admitted, seizing his sleeve to urge him into action. ‘Just press that red button.’
Click!
The next thing they knew, they were staring at each other in surprise across the kitchen table, feeling strangely disorientated.
‘Come on, you two, eat up,’ Mum told them, bustling by to go into the store and help serve the customers. ‘You must both be starving after all that running about, playing football.’
Becky looked down at her half-eaten meal of sausages and beans on toast and pushed the plate away. She had lost her appetite.
‘What are we doing back here?’ she said.
‘Having our tea – again,’ Chris replied through a mouthful of food. ‘If you don’t want yours, I’ll have it.’
‘How can you eat at a time like this? The far
m’s on fire!’
Chris shook his head and reached for her plate. ‘Not yet, it isn’t, sis,’ he corrected her, jabbing his fork at the kitchen clock and dropping a few beans onto the floor, which Tan licked up. ‘Got plenty of time.’
‘Hi, guys!’ Zoe greeted them, before throwing more wood onto the small bonfire in the farmyard. ‘What brings you here?’
‘Er…’ Chris began lamely, not quite sure how to respond, having arrived at the farm a little early. ‘We were just out walking the dog and … er…’
‘And doing a bit of jogging to keep fit,’ added Becky in support.
‘A dog jog!’ Zoe cackled.
‘Not exactly,’ muttered Chris. ‘Er … so where is everybody?’
‘Everybody?’ repeated Zoe. ‘Everywhere, I guess. Why?’
‘Just wondered who’s supposed to be looking after this bonfire.’
‘What’s it look like, Jacko?’ she sneered. ‘Me!’
‘Do your folks know?’
Zoe stared at him. ‘Course they do. They don’t call me zany here, y’know.’
Becky attempted to come to his rescue. ‘I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Zoe,’ she said. ‘But isn’t it dangerous having a bonfire so close to the barn?’
Zoe lost patience with their questions. ‘Clear off, will yer,’ she snapped, striding away towards her bike which was propped up against the barn. ‘I’m busy.’
The twins left the farm but did not stray far.
‘So what do we do now?’ asked Chris.
‘We wait,’ said Becky. ‘I mean, we know what’s going to happen, if we just leave her to it. We’ll wait a while and then move in.’
‘I don’t want to hang about here in the cold. Let’s go and sort it out now.’
‘Hold on!’ Becky cried. ‘What will we say to Zoe? Tell her she’s going to set fire to the whole place? She’ll just laugh at us.’
‘So what? Better than frying the pigs. Come on!’
Chris marched back into the yard and was relieved that he did not have to say anything. Zoe was nowhere to be seen – and nor was her bike – but the fire was still burning brightly.
