"I never had any children," said Wobbler. "Never got married. Don't know why, really. It just didn't seem right."

He leaned heavily on his stick and turned back to them.

"I want to be young again," he said. "Somewhere."

"We were going to go back," said Johnny. "Honestly.,

"Good. But, you see ... it's not just a case of going back. It's going back and doing the right things."

And then he was gone, walking heavily towards the men with the suits, who closed in behind him.

Bigmac was staring so much that a long rivulet of mustard, tomato sauce, special chilli relish and vivid green chutney had dripped out of his burger and down his sleeve without him noticing.

"Wow," said Yoless, under his breath. "Will we be like that one day?"

"What? Old? Probably," said Johnny.

"I just can't get my head around old Wobbler being old," said Bigmac, sucking at his sleeve.

"We've got to go and get him," said Johnny. "We can't let him get ... "

"Rich?" said Yoless. "I don't think we can do anything about the "old" bit."

"If we bring him back, then he - the old one - won't exist here," said Kirsty.

"No, he'll exist in this here, but not in the other here. I don't think he'll be existing anywhere for very long anyway," said Johnny. "Come on."

"What's in the envelope?" said Kirsty, as they left.

Johnny was surprised. Usually she'd say something like "Let's see what's in this, then," while snatching it out of his hand.

"It's for Wobbler," said Johnny.

"He's written a letter to himself? What's he say?"

"How do I know? I don't open other people's letters!"

Johnny shoved the envelope back into his inside pocket.

"The keep-fit club should have finished by now," he said. "Come on."

"Wait," said Kirsty. "If we're going back to 1941, Let's go prepared this time, shall we?"

"Yeah," said Bigmac. "Armed."

"No. Properly dressed, I mean."

"Every Little Girl

It was an hour later. They met behind the church, in the damp little yard where they'd left the trolley.

"All right," said Kirsty. "Where did you get that outfit, Johnny?"

"Grandad's got loads of stuff in the attic. These are his old football shorts. And he always wears old pullovers, so I thought that was probably okay, too. And I've got my project stuff in this box in case it helps. It's genuine 1940s. It's what they carried gasmasks in."

"Oh, is that what they are?" said Bigmac. "I thought people had rather big Walkmans."

"At least take the cap off, you look like Just William," said Kirsty. "What's this, Yoless?"

"Me and Bigmac went along to that theatre shop in Wallace Street," said Yoless. "What do you think?" he added uncertainly.

He shuffled round nervously. He was wearing a broadbrimmed hat, shoes with soles like two bumper cars parked side by side, and tight trousers. At least, what could be seen of the trousers looked tight.

"Is that an overcoat?" said Johnny critically.

"It's called a drape jacket," said Yoless.

"Bright red," said Kirsty. "Yes, I can see no-one will notice you at all. And those trousers ... you must have had to grease your feet to get them on."

"It looks a bit ... stylish," said Johnny. "You know ... jazzy.

"The man in the shop said it's about right for the period," said Yoless defensively.

"You look like you're about to play the saxophone," said Johnny. "I mean ... well, I've never seen you looking so ... you know ... cool."

"That's why it's a disguise," said Yoless.

Kirsty turned to Bigmac, and sighed.

"Bigmac, why is it I get this feeling you've missed the point?"

"I told him," said Yoless. "But he wouldn't listen."

"The man said they wore this in 1941," said Bigmac defensively.

"Yes, but don't you think that people might notice it's a German uniform?"

Bigmac looked panicky.

"Is it? I thought Yoless was trying to wind me up! I thought they had all swastikas and stuff!"

"That's the Gestapo. You're dressed up like an ordinary German soldier."

"I can't help it, it's the only one they had left, it was this or chain mail!"

"At least leave the jacket and helmet off, all right? Then it'll probably look like any other uniform."

"Why've 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 Yoless.

"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 Yoless. "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 Yoless. "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 Yoless. "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 Yoless.

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 Yoless 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 Yoless. "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 Yoless.

"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's 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 Yoless, 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!"