Soonhope, with fewer than two thousand inhabitants, he knew of at least five churches, all of different denominations. It occurred to Jack that he hadn’t actually been inside any of them, and he wasn’t sure how many of the local population had either.
The High Street was busy but Angus managed to squeeze the bike right in front of Gino’s and, as they went in, the welcoming smell of warm coffee and ice cream wafted over them. Gino was manning the espresso machine while Francesca, his daughter, polished glasses grumpily. Gino was as jolly as ever.
“What can I get you, lads?”
“Hi, Gino.” Angus looked up at the endless menu of drinks and snacks pinned to a board above the counter. But he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have the double Gino-chino, extra shot, full fat, with caramel and extra cream… and don’t forget the cherry.” He looked over at Francesca and winked provocatively, adding in a deep voice, “Shaken, not stirred.”
Francesca rolled her eyes and tutted loudly. Gino glanced up. “You have no chance there, the Turinelli family’s outta your league.”
Angus shrugged. “Oh well — I’ll have four chip butties as well, please, Gino.”
“Cutting back?” Jack asked.
“Not exactly. We’re playing Melrose the day after tomorrow — last game of the season. If we win, we’re champions. Need to bulk up.”
“And Jack, my friend, what are you having?”
“Thanks, Gino. I’ll go for a Gino-chino as well — but without the bells and whistles and make it just one chip butty.”
“Coming right up. Take a seat, boys.”
Gino had recently tried to convert his popular Italian bistro into an American diner — he had even got himself a juke box (which didn’t work). It had been a brave attempt, but somehow it all looked a bit out of place in the traditional High Street of Soonhope. Jack and Angus settled into one of the booths and soon, in hushed tones, they were discussing their favourite subject.
“Do you think we did the right thing?”
It was Angus’s first question. Jack thought for a moment and came up with his usual answer.
“Yes — we did the right thing. I’m sure of it. Dad and Pendelshape created brilliant computer simulations to test out the changes they wanted to make in history, but you could never be certain that by going back in time you might not do something that would have unforeseen consequences for the future. That’s the risk. That’s the whole reason VIGIL was set up. And that’s why we had to side with them.”
“Suppose. Pity though.”
“Why?”
“Well… I know going back to 1914… Well, it was dangerous and stuff, and a lot of bad things happened…”
“Yes, Angus,” Jack said slowly, making sure the point sank in, “that’s why nobody wants to be doing it again. Time travel and especially using the Taurus to make changes to history… it’s a bad idea. Remember your great grandfather Ludwig in the trenches? If that bayonet had been a few inches to the right, he might have died and, you wouldn’t be here.”
“I know, but…” Angus grinned. “You’ve got to admit, it was pretty cool.”
Jack shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder about you. We can say that, sitting here now. But it didn’t feel cool to me at the time. We were lucky to get away with our lives. Meddling in time is definitely to be avoided. VIGIL — and their leaders — the Rector, Councillor Inchquin — all of them — they’re trying to do the right thing. Dad and Pendelshape, the Revisionists, for all their brains and good intentions, are just plain wrong. We’re on the side of VIGIL now.”
Angus shrugged.
Gino ambled over to their booth. “Two Gino-chinos, one chip butty for you and… four for you.”
“Great Gino. Thanks a lot.”
Jack looked at Angus’s plate, “You’re not seriously going to eat all that are you?”
“I don’t really want to… I’m doing it more out of a sense of duty to the team,” Angus replied regretfully, as if he were making some terrible sacrifice. He opened one of the butties and poured salt, vinegar and ketchup onto the chips inside before quickly re-sealing them within the bread. Then he took a large bite and the contents leaked out from each side.
“Gross.”
“Actually, very tasty,” Angus replied, his mouth full. It didn’t stop him from continuing their conversation.
“But what about your dad? Don’t you feel bad about him? If VIGIL ever gets hold of him, they’ll do him for sure.”
Angus was never one for subtlety and Jack grimaced. “Thanks for reminding me.” There was an awkward silence and then Jack shrugged. “I try not to think about it.” He swallowed. “And, I don’t know, maybe one day there will be a way… a way that VIGIL and Dad can be reconciled.” He looked down at his plate. “Maybe then Mum and Dad could even get back together.”
Angus swallowed and took a swig of his Gino-chino. “Sorry Jackster — didn’t mean to…” He shrugged. “Well — you know.”
“It’s all right. Anyway — we’re fully signed-up members of VIGIL now. Don’t forget what that means.”
Angus wiped his mouth and his eyes lit up. “How could I forget?”
Jack remembered the VIGIL inauguration ceremony that he and Angus had taken part in after their return from Sarajevo. As things settled down, they learned that VIGIL’s aim was not only to be ready to counteract any Revisionist attempts to meddle in history, but also to identify and train promising students and enrol them into VIGIL. This recruitment was one reason for secreting the Taurus complex and VIGIL headquarters in an ordinary school: it was easy to identify potential candidates. In this way, VIGIL would ensure the continuation of its cause from one generation to the next and ensure the future safety of mankind as well. This was critical, particularly while the Revisionist threat was still alive. Jack and Angus’s experiences in 1914 had made them instant VIGIL veterans and obvious candidates for enrolment.
Jack’s mobile went off and he pulled it from his pocket. “Text from Mum probably, wondering where I am…”
Angus returned to his chip butty.
Jack peered at the screen. “Don’t recognise that number…” He opened the message. “Funny…” Jack’s brow furrowed. “What do you reckon to this?”
“To what?”
Jack read out the text. “Jack — meet at old lookout. Very urgent. Come now.”
“What can that mean?”
“You’ve got an admirer — finally.”
“Hilarious.”
“The old lookout — that’s the fire tower, isn’t it? You know, top of Glentress… we used to go up there on the bike.”
“Yeah — but who’s this from? There’s no name.”
Angus grinned mischievously. “Only one way to find out.”
“But I can’t do that without alerting VIGIL… I’ve got this stupid tracker on my ankle — remember?” Jack pulled up one leg of his trousers a little to show Angus the discrete wireless tracker that ensured VIGIL always knew his whereabouts. Jack was a valuable asset to VIGIL, and the tracker was just one of the ways they made sure he was properly protected. Most of the time he forgot about it, but sometimes it made him frustrated and even angry about the responsibility that rested on his shoulders.
“Oh yeah.” Angus thought for a moment and then a twinkle came to his eye. “On the other hand, it might be a laugh to see how quickly they send in air support when they know you’ve gone AWOL. It’s good to keep them on their toes.”
Jack was not sure. “I don’t know, Angus.”
“Come on, Jack, who dares wins and all that.” He nodded at Jack’s butty and stood up. “Scoff that and let’s
