The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue by Lou Heneghan

The feeling of embarrassment he’d had about The Knowing abruptly left him. He met Ambrose’s eyes and realised suddenly they were the eyes of an old friend. His final acceptance of all this was such a relief he felt weak. But if Ambrose had come to find them that could only mean one thing – Britain was under threat.
    Ralf’s heart was still racing but he felt a cool rush of blood through his veins, a sudden energy that needed to be used. ‘Right,’ he said, rubbing the sweat from his palms. ‘What’s happening? Why now?’
    Ambrose clapped his hands then sprang into action, ‘Come and look at this!’ He reached for a huge, calfskin bound book, took a moment to search for a page and thumped it down on the table triumphantly. ‘There!’
    Leo, Valen and Alfie clustered round to gawk at the pages in front of them. There were mass of minute black letters and symbols in an impossible number of lines threading across the vellum’s surface. ‘I don’t get it,’ Alfie mumbled.
    Seth, who’d been pacing the wall of the tent, stopped to listen.
    ‘I don’t expect you to be able to read it,’ said Ambrose. ‘This is The Book. The Book where all the possibilities are written.’
    ‘O–kay…,’ said Alfie, not understanding at all.
    ‘Initially events and possibilities are seen as a faint moving thread, but as each decision is made it is recorded indelibly in this book and the past becomes fixed. All fine and dandy, except that three weeks ago, on the twenty-first of June, to be precise, I opened the book and found this.’
    Ambrose turned more pages and then stopped, somewhere in the middle of the book and tapped at the open page. ‘This is the page for May 1940,’ he said grimly.
    ‘I still don’t...’ Alfie began.
    On this page the writing was alive, writhing, moving of its own accord, constantly changing and developing in front of their eyes. For a second Ralf felt like he was back in Science class, peering down a microscope at minute sea worms undulating across a slide. His brow furrowed and he beckoned Seth over.
    Seth didn’t have to be asked twice. He nudged Alfie to one side and stared down at the book. ‘It’s alive!’ he breathed. ‘How is it doing that?’
    ‘That’s not all. Look,’ said Ambrose. The next few pages were worse. The letters were still moving but, more than that, they were faded, as though the pen they’d been written with was running out of ink. A couple of pages further on, the writing disappeared altogether. The page marked ‘1945’ was as crisp and white as snow.
    ‘What’s happened to it?’ Leon asked. He reached forward to touch the page with his finger. ‘Why is it blank?’
    ‘History is being re-written,’ said Ambrose gravely. ‘Three weeks ago something happened which had a profound effect on the past. The past is no longer unchangeable and that’s dangerous.’
    ‘Is it?’ said Alfie.
    ‘Absolutely. We haven’t started to feel the effects yet because things in 1940 haven’t gone sufficiently off course. But if they do – if someone dies who shouldn’t or someone doesn’t go somewhere they’re supposed to – the effects could be catastrophic. And this is all happening just as the Second World War kicks off. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
    ‘But how can you change the past?’ Ralf asked.
    ‘Well, that’s just the point, you see,’ said Ambrose. ‘By rights, the only person who has enough power to do this kind of thing is me. But three weeks ago someone, I don’t know who, did something so terrible, and I don’t know what, that Time itself is now under threat.’
    ‘And you’re asking us for help?’ Ralf said, real fear now clutching at his belly.
    ‘Not yet,’ said Ambrose. ‘But I had to warn you. Time is in flux. You all saw what happened on the way here. The effect was magnified because you were with me. Things are changing. The general population is in no immediate danger. But you’re all Turnarounders. You’ve lived