"Well ... I hung around for a while and you didn't come back," said Wobbler. "And then-"

"But we did! I mean, we will!" said Kirsty.

"This is where it gets difficult," said Wobbler, patiently. "Johnny knows. Supposing you didn't go back? Supposing you were scared to, or you found that you couldn't? The possibility exists, and that means the future forks off in two different ways. In one you went back, in one you didn't. Now you've ended up in the future where you didn't go back. I've been here since 1941. Don't try to think too hard about this, because it'll make your brain hurt.

"Anyway ... first I stayed with Mr and Mrs Seeley," he continued. "I'd met them that first day. Their son was away in the Navy and everyone thought I was an evacuee who was a bit daft and, what with one thing and another, there's too much to worry about in a big war for people to ask too many questions about one fat boy. They were very nice people. They sort of... adopted me, I suppose, because their son got torpedoed. But I moved away after a few years."

"Why?" said Kirsty.

"I didn't want to meet my own parents or anything like that," said Wobbler. He still seemed out of breath. "History is full of patches as it is, without causing any more trouble, eh? Changing my name wasn't hard, either. In a war ... well, records go missing, people get killed, everything gets shaken up. A person can duck down and pop up somewhere else as someone else. I was in the Army for a few years, after the war."

"You?" said Bigmac.

"Oh, everyone had to be. National Service, it was called. Out in Berlin. And then I came back and had to make a living. Would you like another milkshake? I personally wouldn't, if I were you. I know how they're made."

"You could've invented computers!" said Bigmac.

"Really? You think so?" The old man laughed. "Who'd have listened to a boy who hadn't even been to university? Besides ... well, look at this ... "

He picked up a plastic fork and tapped it on the table.

"See this?" he said. "We throw away millions of them every day. After five minutes" use they're in the trash, right?"

"Yes, of course," said Kirsty. Behind Wobbler, the staff were watching nervously, like monks in some quiet monastery somewhere who've just had St Peter drop in for tea.

"A hundred years ago it'd have been a marvel. And now we throw them away without a second thought. So ... how do you make one?"

"Well ... you get some oil, and ... I've think there's something about it in a book I've got-"

"Right," said Wobbler, leaning back. "You don't know. I don't know, either."

"But I wouldn't bother with that. I'd write science fiction," said Kirsty. "Moon landings and stuff."

"You probably could," said Wobbler. A tired expression crossed his face, and he started to pat the pockets of his coat as if looking for something. "But I've never had much of a way with words, I'm afraid. No. I opened a hamburger bar."

Johnny looked around, and then started to grin.

"That's right," said Wobbler. "In 1952. I knew it all, you see. Thick shakes, Double Smashers with Cheese'n Egg, paper hats for the staff, red sauce in those little round plastic bottles that look like tomatoes ... oh, yes. I had three bars in the first year, and ten the year after that. There's thousands, now. Other people just couldn't keep up. I knew what would work, you see. Birthday treats for the kids, the Willie Wobbler clown-"

"Willie Wobbler?" said Kirsty.

"Sorry. They were more innocent times," said Wobbler. "And then I started ... other things. Soft toilet paper, for a start. Honestly, the stuff they had back in the 1940s you could use as roofing felt! And when that was going well, I started to listen to people. People with bright ideas. Like "I think I could make a tape recorder really small so that people could carry it around" and I'd say "That might just catch on, you know, here's some money to get started". Or "You know, I think I know a way of making a machine to record television signals on tape so that people could watch them later" and I'd say "Amazing Whatever will they think of next! Here's some money, why don't we form a company and build some? And while we're about it, why don't we see if movies can be put on these tape thingies too?...

"That's dishonest," said Kirsty. "That's cheating."

"I don't see why," said Wobbler. "People were amazed that I'd listen to them, because everyone else thought they were crazy. I made money, but so did they."

"Are you a millionaire?" said Bigmac.

"Oh, no. I was a millionaire back in 1955. I'm a billionaire now, I think." He snapped his fingers again. The chauffeur in black, who had silently appeared behind them, stepped forward.

"I am a billionaire, aren't I, Hickson?"

"Yes, Sir John. Many times."

"Thought so. And I think I own some island somewhere. What was it called now ... Tasmania, I think."

Wobbler patted his pockets again, and finally brought out a slim silver case. He flicked it open and took out two white pills, which he swallowed. He grimaced, and sipped from his glass of water.

"You haven't touched your One with Everything," said Johnny, watching him.

"Oh, I asked for it just to make the point," said Wobbler. "I'm not allowed to eat them. Good heavens. I have a diet. No sodium, no cholesterol, low starch, no sugar." He sighed. "Even a glass of water is probably too exciting."

The manager of the burger bar had at last plucked up the courage to approach the table.

"Sir John!" he said, "This is a such an honour-"

"Yes, yes, thank you, please go away, I'm talking to my friends-" Wobbler stopped, and smiled evilly. "Fries all right, Bigmac? Properly crisp?" he said. "What about that milkshake, Yoless? Right sort of texture, is it?"

The boys glanced up at the manager, who suddenly looked like a man praying to the god of everyone who has to work while wearing a name-badge saying "My name is KEITH".

"Er ... they're fine," said Bigmac.

"Great," said Yoless.

KEITH gave them a relieved grin.

"They're always good," said Yoless.

"I expect", said Bigmac, "that they'll go on being good."

KEITH nodded hurriedly.

"We're genially in most Saturdays," added Bigmac, helpfully. "If you want us to make sure."

"Thank you, Keith, you may go," said Wobbler. He winked at Bigmac as the man almost ran away.

"I know I shouldn't do it," he said, "but it's about the only fun I get these days."

"Why did you come here?" said Johnny quietly.

"You know, I couldn't resist doing a little checking," said Wobbler, ignoring him. "I thought it might be ... interesting ... to watch myself growing up. Not interfering, of course." He stopped smiling. "And then I found I wasn't born. I'd never been born. Nor was my father. My mother lived in London and was married to someone else. That's one thing about money. You can buy any amount of private detectives."

"That's nonsense," said Kirsty. "You're alive."

"Oh, yes," said Wobbler. "I was born. In another time. In the leg of the trousers of time that we were all born in. And then I went back in time with you all, and ... something went wrong. I'm not sure what. So ... I had to come back the long way. You could say I had to walk home."

"I'm sure that's not logical," said Kirsty.

Wobbler shrugged. "I don't think time is all that logical," he said. "It bends itself around humans. It's probably full of loose ends. Whoever said it shouldn't be? Sometimes loose ends are necessary. If they weren't, spaghetti would be merely an embarrassing experience." He chuckled. "Spoke to a lot of scientists about this. Damn fools. Idiots! Time's in our heads. Any fool can see that-"

"You're ill, aren't you," said Johnny.

"Is it obvious?"

"You keep taking pills, and your breathing doesn't sound right."

Wobbler smiled again. But this time there was no humour in it.

"I'm suffering from life," he said. "However, I'm nearly cured."

"Look," said Kirsty, in the voice of one who is trying to be reasonable against the odds, "we weren't going to leave you there. We were going to go back. We will go back."

"Good," said Wobbler.

"You don't mind? Because surely, if we do, you won't exist, will you?"

"Oh, I will. Somewhere," said Wobbler.

"That's right," said Johnny. "Everything that happens ... stays happened. Somewhere. There's lots of times side by side."

"You always were a bit of an odd thinker," said Wobbler. "I remember that. An imagination so big it's outside your head. Now ... what was the other thing? Oh, yes. I think I have to give you this."

The chauffeur stepped forward.

"Er ... Sir John, you know the Board did want-"

There was a blur in the air. Wobbler's silver-headed cane hit the table so hard that Bigmac's fries flew into the air. The crack echoed around the restaurant.

"God damn it, man, I'm paying you, and you will do what I say! The Board can wait! I'm not dead yet! I didn't get where I am today by listening to a lot of lawyers whining! I'm having some time off! Go away!"

Wobbler reached into his jacket and took out an envelope. He handed it to Johnny.

"I'm not telling you to go back," he said. "I've got no right. I've had a pretty good life, one way and the other-"

"But," said Johnny. Through the glass doors of the mall he could see a car and four motorcycles pull up.

"I'm sorry?" said Wobbler.

"The next word you were going to say was "but"," said Johnny. Men were hurrying up the steps.

"Oh, yes. But ... " Wobbler leaned forward, and began speaking quickly. "If you go back, I've written a letter to ... well, you'll know what to do with it. I know I really shouldn't do it, but who could pass up an opportunity like this?"

He stood up, or at least attempted to. Hickson rushed up as Wobbler caught the edge of his chair, but was waved away.