Jemima was getting the hump over the man's strange Scottish accent. She wished he'd leave them alone. She didn't really want to go back to her ''Home World''. To be honest it was pants. This new place, on the other hand, seemed WELL nice.
Patricia was enjoying his company, it seemed. She was laughing at everything the fat man said - and, this is the thing - not even nervously. Perhaps she ought to slip away and leave her friend to it. It might even take the silly girl's mind off that Boris.
Jemima looked at the new-best-friends laughing with their heads close together - for the first time hit with a small bolt of jealousy.
''I'm not sure we should even be talking to you,mate.'' she said. Patricia giggled, nervously this time.
''We don' even know yer name, nor nuffink.''
The man stepped forward, extending his hand to Jemima and bowing slightly.
''My name is Kennedy.'' he said, graciously. ''But you may call me Charlie.''
Jemima and Patricia locked eyes and gasped. Patricia emitted a half-strangled, involuntary giggle.
''But...but...'' she said. ''We've got one of those. Or we did have. He disappeared. They say Ming the Merciless got rid of him.''
Charlie raised one eyebrow, but said nothing.
''So...'' asked Jemima. ''Are you him? I mean...here? Are you a Whig?''
''Aah. So we're THAT again now,are we?'' he said quietly. ''Yes I suppose that is what I am. We call it something different in my world though.'' He turned away so the girls could not really hear his next words, but Jemima thought they sounded like ''Lead 'em''
He tipped his straw hat forward at a rakish angle, put his hands in his pockets and stuck his elbows out at his sides, inviting the girls to link their arms through his. Patricia slipped her arm through his left one, but Jemima hesitated. She was still unsure of this strange, jolly little bloke.
''I dunno if I even wanna GO back anyway!'' she whined. ''Why can't we stay?''
Charlie unlinked his arm from Patricia's and walked over to the petulant girl. He bent slightly and put his hands on his knees, leaning in conspiratorially.
''Come with me if you want to live.'' he said, so quiet that Jemima had to lean in still further. She was pretty sure she'd heard those words in a movie, sometime in the past, but they sounded less corny and more sincere from Charlie's mouth. Maybe Patricia had good judgment after all.
Charlie leaned further in, putting his hand up to cup Jemima's ear, he whispered.
''We're not staying here.'' he hissed. ''But we're not going back to your world either.''
He offered his arms again, and this time Jemima accepted.