Sentence The Fourhundredandthirtyfirst 

“Where,” she demanded, “where has she gone? where has she gone? where has Gertie gone? Where, where, where has she gone?” and as Professor Sir Clement Dane, or at least one of them, blinked, Isa continued: “has she gone with him? has she gone with him? has she gone with Pan? has she gone with him? has she really, truly, gone with him?” and she shook him again – she felt like Alice shaking

the kitten! “spit it out, man, you must tell me what you know, or think you know, it's a matter of Life and Death!” and he blushed, and stammered: “I'm rather afraid it's more than that, Isa, my dear, much, much, more than that, more than a matter of Life and Death, in fact, it's even more than Football!” and even as he said it he could almost feel Bill Shankly's eyes piercing him, from The Great Dug-out in The Sky, and he blushed to the top of his shiny domed head, took hold of Isa's arm and pulled her away from the house, lest Aunty Crist or one of the lodgers might hear his hissing: “you know that The Eildon Hills are a magical place, a meeting point for Ley Lines which run from all over the Earth and where past and present merge? remember Jasmine's theory about Quantum Collisions, about Past, Present and Future all happening at the same time, everywhere – surely a better explanation of glimpses of ghosts than any supernatural mumbo-jumbo? don't you ever get the feeling of being watched when there's no-one there? of hearing music, when there's no-one there? or of something or someone brushing against you when there is definitely no-one there? haven't you always sensed something like that? you do know that, don't you?” and he stared into Isa's eyes, until: “no, I can't say that I did, but I do now, cos you've telt me,” the sterling WPC quipped, and Dane gripped her tighter, until a shadow fell across his hand and he relaxed his grip, and turned to see the other Sir Clement standing hard by: “you'll just have to tell her now, or if you won't, I will,” said the second Dane; and Isa turned the full force of her famous Death Stare on to him, which may be why he took a couple of steps backwards, leaving the goalmouth to yawn before his other self, who coughed, hesitated, and then said: “your Uncle Pantagruel has gone back to 1938 and it's all my fault, I'm the one who had been telling him about some of my dearest friends and not a few relations – almost my entire family in fact,” and the other interjected: “and mine too, don't forget,” but was shooed away by whichever Dane was closest to Isa, who then continued, “our entire family, almost, between Dachau. Buchenwald, Auschwitz and Belsen, all gone, ashes to ashes, and you see, dear Isa, he said that he felt guilty for doing nothing about it when he had the chance, in 1938, when Daisy went home to help Dandy organise Duncansby's wedding and Pan took a month from his work at the Foreign Office and went to Arabia, travelling and site seeing; he said that he should have made better use of his one opportunity to have a direct effect on History, instead of just reading about it - Future History, he meant; and he said, just yesterday, that he'd made up his mind to do what he should have done that summer, that he believed he had found a way of using the power of The Eildons and a psychotropic drug he'd been experimenting with to enable him to make contact with his younger self to that end,” and Isa stared at him: “are you mad? are you absolutely bonkers? are you saying he's gone to travel back in time to do something bloody dangerous? and the same thing has happened to Gertie?” and now both Sir Clement Danes reached for her hands and said together: “look at us!” and did a little dad-dance which would have been funny if Isa's mind wasn't whirling with the hurly-burly

 

of all this new and fantastic information – had the same thing happened to Tavish, and Tammy and Bernie – to one of these two whirling dervishes and the Americans from Vietnam? it was all so impossible, yet it was terribly real, as she watched the two Danes jig and jump to some kind of internal, shared, rhythm, the very antithesis of the nonpareil she had always believed human beings to be: they weren't twins they were the same person, it was madness but also, unbearably true! and she was overcome by a dolorous longing for Gertie, acutely aware of her own responsibility for the welfare of her young cousin and Trainee WPC – “some mentor I am,” she muttered bitterly, wondering what would happen to the girl and if she would ever see her again – and then a sudden idea struck her!