The Time Hunters and the Box of Eternity (The Time Hunters Saga Book 2) Read online

  For the first time, Becky noticed that Bertha’s bodywork was a collage of cavernous dents and scratches, much of the paintwork having been scraped away.

  ‘I believe the Terriflexor Condenser has been damaged,’ Uncle Percy continued, ‘which would explain why I’ve returned to this Time Point and not the one intended. It would also explain why I regrettably materialised in a rather splendid oak tree.’

  ‘I-I don’t understand,’ Mrs Mellor stammered.

  ‘Of course you don’t, my dear woman. But your face does look quite the picture. In fact, why don’t we preserve this moment for prosperity?’ At once, he produced what appeared to be a small digital camera and - click – took her picture. However, instead of the usual white flash, a thick torrent of navy blue light shot from the lens, encircled her head like a mist, and then faded away.

  Becky gave a little squeal. Her mother had become as solid as granite, her eyes vacant, her breathing thin and shallow.

  ‘W-what have you done to her?’ Becky panted.

  Uncle Percy flicked his hand. ‘Oh, don’t worry, she’s been temporalised. No biggie!’

  ‘No biggie?’ Becky barked. ‘You’ve frazzled her brain!’

  ‘This – is - so - cool,’ Joe said, waving his hand in front of his mother’s face, but not getting any reaction whatsoever.

  ‘Oh, it’s hardly frazzled,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘In fact, it’s perfectly safe. I’ll Retemp her in a bit and she won’t be any the wiser.’

  Becky wasn’t convinced, but knew Uncle Percy well enough to know he would never harm anyone, especially not her mother. ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘I am. Anyway, I’d better repair Bertha and straighten out this mess.’ A moment later, he’d clambered up the tree and could be heard tinkering with the van’s control panel.

  Then something else occurred to Becky. ‘And will being temporalised make her forget the last ten minutes?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Then how will you explain the campervan in a tree thingy?’

  ‘She’ll have to be Memorased.’

  Becky felt a flush of panic. ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’ll use a close-range Memoraser to send a nanowave into her archicortex, planting a timodifier that’ll remove short-term recall for a specified period of time.’

  Becky sighed. ‘Stop being - well … you, and remember I don’t speak geek. What does that mean?’

  ‘It means she won’t remember any of it.’ Uncle Percy frowned at Joe. ‘I don’t think you should be doing that, young man!’

  Becky looked over and saw that Joe had folded down Mrs Mellor’s bottom lip, inserted two pebbles up her nose and stretched out her ears so she looked like a monkey.

  ‘Oh, but Uncle Percy …’ Joe’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.’

  Becky snorted. ‘So is death, and that’s precisely what’ll happen to you if she finds out you’ve done that.’ She paused for a moment. ‘On second thoughts, let me get my phone and I’ll film it.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Joe, restore your mother’s dignity, please, or I’ll temporalise you and hang you from this tree like a Christmas decoration.’

  Joe complied at once.

  ‘Now, Bertha’s Terriflexor Condenser is fixed, so let me find a quiet spot nearby to materialise and I’ll be back in two ticks and half a jiffy.’ Seconds later, the time machine had disappeared.

  Five minutes passed before Becky heard Bertha pull up at the front of the house. Racing to the door, she flung it open to see Uncle Percy, beaming from ear to ear. ‘Shall we start again?’ he said, embracing her. ‘Lovely to see you again, my dear.’

  ‘And you,’ Becky replied, returning the hug twofold.

  ‘Now, shall we retemp your mother before Joe does something we’ll all regret?’ He strode through the hall, into the kitchen and on to the patio. Then he stopped and gave a loud, exasperated sigh.

  Mrs Mellor was stood there, as stiff as a board, her arms clamped to her side, and a plant pot set upon her head like a lampshade. Joe’s eyes were fixed innocently on the sky, as if it had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

  ‘That is not funny,’ Uncle Percy said, shaking his head, although Becky wasn’t entirely sure he meant it. He removed the plant pot and scowled at Joe. ‘Can you do something useful for a change and see if you have any lemonade. It’ll help the retemping process.’

  ‘I’ll check,’ Joe said, racing into the kitchen.

  Uncle Percy turned to Becky. ‘Shall we get her inside?’ At once, he hoisted Mrs Mellor onto his shoulder like a roll of carpet and carried her into the house. Entering the lounge, he propped her against the mantelpiece and took out the Temporaliser. With a mixture of dismay and amusement, Becky watched her mother sway slightly as Joe joined them, carrying a glass of dark brown liquid.

  ‘We haven’t got any Lemonade,’ he said, holding up the glass. ‘Will Dandelion and Burdock do?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ Uncle Percy replied, adjusting a large shiny dial on the Temporaliser. ‘Now, we’ll have to retemp and memorase her almost simultaneously.’ He produced what looked like a small black torch with a series of numbers etched on its casing. ‘I think a fifteen minute memorase should do the trick.’ He trained the Temporaliser on Mrs Mellor and - click – a shimmering emerald haze surrounded her. At the same time, he switched on the Memoraser. Humming lightly, it sent a narrow ray of silvery light into her eyes. Uncle Percy gave a satisfied smile and pocketed both gadgets.

  Becky watched, her heart thumping. What if it didn’t work? What if she couldn’t be revived? However, before she had time to worry further, her mother stirred slightly and gave a low moan. Then, with a start, her eyes snapped open and she snatched at the air, colour returning to her cheeks.

  ‘There, there, Catherine…’ Uncle Percy said softly. ‘You’re fine now.’

  ‘P – Percy?’ Mrs Mellor gasped. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You bumped your head. Here, sit down.’ Uncle Percy steered her gently on to the couch and took the glass from Joe. ‘Drink this. It’ll help.’

  Mrs Mellor drained the glass. ‘I – I don’t understand!’

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘But I’ve given you a once over and you’re perfectly fine. There’s not even a lump.’

  ‘I don’t remember a thing.’

  Uncle Percy gave a sympathetic nod. ‘That’s just a spot of amnesia. You’ll be right as rain in a few minutes.’

  Mrs Mellor looked confused. ‘When did I bang my head?’

  Uncle Percy blushed slightly. ‘Er, during the tornado.’

  ‘T – Tornado!’ Mrs Mellor exclaimed.

  Uncle Percy nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. It’s done some terrible damage to the tree in your back garden. But no one was harmed and that’s all that matters.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Mrs Mellor sank into the chair as she processed this strange news. ‘And why were you so late, Percy? Is everything all right?’

  ‘Ah, sorry about that. Yes, I’m fine. I was involved in something of an accident and had to be towed to a garage. I’ve been there for hours. It was a mammoth job, apparently.’ He winked at Becky. ‘Anyway, my mobile phone was damaged in the accident, so may I use your landline to call Maria to say we’ll be leaving shortly?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Uncle Percy left the room.

  Becky joined her mother on the couch. ‘You sure you’ll be okay, Mum?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ her mother replied distractedly, her fingers probing her scalp. ‘I’ve never lost my memory before. What did I bang my head on?’

  Becky hesitated for a moment. ‘A plant pot.’

  ‘Really?’ her mother replied. ‘I must say this whole thing is very odd.’

  When Uncle Percy returned, Becky knew from his brow-beaten expression he’d been given a serious ear-bashing even before he mumbled, ‘Maybe I should bu
y some flowers on the way home? Maria’s not in the most forgiving of moods…’

  Over the next ten minutes, as Uncle Percy patched up his own injuries, Becky and Joe finished dinner, loaded their suitcases into Bertha and gathered on the driveway. Rain cracked against gravel and a bitter wind whipped Becky’s face as she approached her mother, only to see her eyes were dampening.

  ‘No crying, Mum,’ Becky said. ‘We’re only going for a week.’

  Mrs Mellor gave a loud sniff. ‘I know. I’m just being stupid.’ She hugged Becky before turning to Joe. ‘You take care of each other. And remember, Uncle Percy shouldn’t have to tolerate your squabbling, so please behave.’

  ‘We will, Mum,’ Joe said.

  ‘They always do, Catherine,’ Uncle Percy said, giving Mrs Mellor a kiss on the cheek. Then he looked at Becky and Joe. ‘Anyway, shall we make tracks? There’s a German lady who is rather keen to see the two of you again, and equally keen to smash my face in with a Königskuchen pan.’

  Becky and Joe clambered into the campervan as Mrs Mellor stared anxiously at Bertha’s exterior. ‘Are you sure that’s fit to drive, Percy?’

  ‘Of course,’ Uncle Percy said, with a casual flick of his hand. He climbed in and rolled down the window. ‘Besides, we’ll be avoiding any busy roads.’ And before Mrs Mellor could say anything else, he had reversed on to the road.

  ‘What she doesn’t know -’ Uncle Percy whispered to Becky, ‘- is that shortly we’ll be avoiding roads altogether…’

  Becky felt her stomach quiver as she stared at the Victorian terraced houses ahead, their brightly lit windows veiling the simple, ordinary lives within. Bowen Hall, on the other hand, was as far from ordinary as you could get. And as Uncle Percy pulled away, she knew the moment she had longed for had finally arrived.

  She was going home.

  - Chapter 4 -

  The Travelling Times

  Uncle Percy steered Bertha out of Lyndon Crescent and on to the main road. Passing a betting shop, a launderette and a Greek takeaway named Abra-Kebabra, they turned down a side street that led to a sprawling park, bordered on all sides by iron railings.

  Becky watch Uncle Percy push a switch on Bertha’s dashboard and with a soft whir, the speedometer flipped over, replaced by a map of the immediate vicinity; a tiny green and white triangle seemed to be edging away from a cluster of purple rectangles. ‘What’s that?’ she asked, intrigued.

  ‘It’s an Alto-radar,’ Uncle Percy said, bringing Bertha to a halt on a deserted stretch of scrubland to the left of the park gates.

  ‘And that’s how you know when other cars are nearby?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Cars, boats, aeroplanes - any type of vehicle, Joe. We’re the green and white triangle … other vehicles are represented by different shapes and colours. For instance, an orange circle would signify a wind-propelled boat, whereas a blue rhombus would symbolise a twin-engine bi-plane. A purple rectangle represents your run of the mill car, all of which, as you can see are moving away from us. The Alto-radar can also indicate any human or animal presence in the area. After all, we don’t want just anyone witnessing our little vanishing act, do we?’

  ‘I guess not,’ Joe agreed.

  Uncle Percy watched as the final rectangle left the screen. Then he typed something on to Bertha’s time pad. ‘Anyhow, I think I’d better go and face Maria’s music, don’t you?’

  Becky’s insides churned as the campervan grumbled and shook. At once, streams of blinding light poured from Bertha’s dashboard, reaching every corner of the time machine. She barely had time to close her eyes when – BOOM.

  Even when she knew it was over, Becky couldn’t bring herself to look, partly for fear that Bertha had malfunctioned again. Her concerns vanished, however, when she heard Joe say, ‘I’d forgotten just how totally awesome that is!’

  For some reason, Becky had expected them to materialise in Uncle Percy’s laboratory, The Time Room, hearing the bleeps and hums of the workstations, its tall, brilliant-white walls alive with the soft ticking of countless clocks, each reading different times from a range of timelines. She was surprised, therefore, to discover that Uncle Percy had plumped for something else entirely.

  They were on a curved path, opposite the ivy-covered boathouse on the banks of Bowen Lake. Only when Becky arched right, did she understand why Uncle Percy had brought them here. In the distance, majestic against the velvety black sky, like something from a fairytale, stood Bowen Hall.

  ‘You know,’ Uncle Percy said, ‘it’s nice when your favourite building is also your home.’ He started the campervan and they drove off.

  Before they reached the Hall, however, the front door crashed open and a short, portly figure raced out. Dressed in a black and white housekeeper’s uniform, Maria resembled a well-fed penguin. ‘My angels …’ she squealed. ‘My angels are here!’ A moment later, her husband, Jacob, limped into view, his kindly face revealing a wide, generous smile.

  Maria continued her charge, her arms flapping manically. Powering towards Bertha, she hurled the passenger door open and heaved Joe out with the force of a mountain gorilla. Then she planted wet kisses over every visible patch of his face.

  Joe knew better than to resist. ‘Hi, Maria.’

  Maria’s eyes widened as Joe stood to his full height. ‘Look how Master Joe has grown! I knew it. The first time I saw him, I said he would be strong … strong as a lion and with a heart to match. And I was right. Maria is always right.’ Then, with equal vigor, she hauled Becky out of the van. ‘And Miss Becky...’ She clasped Becky’s face in her stubby fingers and her eyes moistened. ‘You grow more beautiful with each moon. She looks like a princess, doesn’t she, Jacob?’

  ‘She does, indeed,’ Jacob said.

  ‘Thanks, Maria,’ Becky replied, hugging her.

  Then Maria’s eyes fell darkly on Uncle Percy, who appeared to be tiptoeing towards the door. ‘And you? What have you to be saying for yourself?’

  Uncle Percy smiled feebly. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

  Maria’s face grew scarlet. ‘Late? Late, is what he says! You are not late … You have been missing! Jacob has been worried sick.’ She gestured at Jacob, who looked like he was about to contradict her but thought better of it. ‘Poor man! Look at him. You have taken years off his life.’

  Uncle Percy looked guilty. ‘I’m really sorry, Jacob.’

  Jacob gave an indifferent shrug. ‘There is nothing to be -’

  ‘Bah! There is much to be sorry for!’ Maria interrupted.

  Uncle Percy raised his hands in a gesture of peace. ‘Maria, I’m sorry you were worried, but like I told you on the phone the stampede was just an unfortunate accident.’

  ‘An accident that would never have been if you were not there at all.’ Maria’s voice cracked. ‘You should live for the now and not for what has passed. She has -’

  Unexpectedly, it was Jacob’s stern voice that cut her down. ‘That is enough, Maria. This is not your business!’

  Becky grew alarmed. She’d never heard Jacob raise his voice before.

  ‘It is my business, Jacob,’ Maria insisted. ‘I love him. I want him safe. I want him here, for me to look after until I am in the ground. If he is angry with me then … pah! That is better than losing him.’ And with that, she turned and dashed into the Hall.

  Jacob stared at Uncle Percy. ‘I apologise for my wife. Her intentions are good.’

  ‘I know they are.’

  Jacob gave a half-smile and followed his wife into the Hall.

  Becky was lost for words. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘That is a very long story,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘And it is certainly not one for tonight.’

  Becky was about to press the matter, when a soft voice floated on the air. ‘And what is the cause of this disorder?’ She spun round to see Will approaching them.

  ‘Will!’ Joe raced over and shook Will’s hand.

  ‘How be you, young sir?’

  ‘I’m ace,’ Joe replied. ‘How are
you?’

  ‘I am better for seeing you again.’

  Becky looked at them together and felt an unexpected pang of envy. A unique bond had formed between them, one she could never share. Teacher and student. Before she had time to dwell on this, however, Will had embraced her.

  ‘Miss Becky,’ Will said. ‘It does me good to see you.’

  Becky smiled back. ‘Great to see you, too.’

  Will’s gaze shifted onto Bertha for a moment before finding Uncle Percy. ‘One can surmise you’ve had an eventful day, my friend.’

  ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

  Will’s eyes narrowed. ‘Should I know more?’

  ‘Not really,’ Uncle Percy replied. He turned to Becky and Joe. ‘Anyway, let’s get the two of you settled into your rooms.’

  After unpacking the campervan, they climbed the Hall’s front steps. All the while, Becky couldn’t take her eyes off Uncle Percy, who looked strangely distant; his hazel eyes, usually so full of life, appeared dull and troubled. She knew something was wrong. However, the second she stepped into the Entrance Hall, all thoughts of this disappeared as, with a high-pitched yelp, a bundle of sandy-coloured fur sped across the floor and zigzagged excitedly between her feet, trailed by the identical but considerably larger outline of his mother.

  ‘Sabian!’ Becky beamed, scooping up the Sabre-tooth tiger cub and pressing his head against hers. She felt a delicious shiver as his whiskers tickled her nose. It was then she saw the morning room door stood ajar. Maria was sitting on a chair, her body shuddering as she wept into Jacob’s shoulder.

  Uncle Percy had noticed, too. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I believe I must have a little chat with Maria. Will, would you be so kind as to show Becky and Joe to their rooms?’ He took a heavy breath and entered the morning room, closing the door behind him.

  After a few uncomfortable seconds, Becky said, ‘What’s going on, Will?’

  ‘I believe Maria is upset because of your uncle’s disappearance today. She has lost many in her life, family and friends. I believe she feared she would lose him, too. After all, he is her family now.’