It is the middle of July, and we are sitting in our last lesson at school. It is an average classroom for the twenty-first century. Still, it is nearly silent despite the number of students in it. For those of us in year ten, we still have one more year to go. But we will prepare for our GCSEs, taking practice papers and revising. Our form tutor, Mr Cunningham, tells us it's critical we get our GCSEs right; they are our way to get the lives we want.

I stare out of the window as the teacher talks. A lot of the students aren't paying him any attention. Besides, it is the last lesson before the summer. Why would students want to waste it by paying attention to a teacher? As I look out onto the playground, my mind wanders to my GCSEs. I already have one science GCSE. I hope the rest of my GCSEs will have impressive results.

But will they help me get the life I want? GCSEs will not determine whether I get a crown or not. GCSEs will not play a factor in my job at White Star Line. After year eleven, my GCSEs will mean nothing to me. Besides, there are more important things I need to focus on, like keeping history on track, so my friends and I will exist. Okay, the other queens will exist, but they will live and die in Tudor England. They will never get the chance to live their lives in the twenty-first century. But it is not just my fellow queens I think about now. If I get something wrong, Sky will cease to exist. The Bane may never create Luke, the best brother I could ask for.

As I think of Luke, I glance over at him. As usual, he is one of the few that give their full attention to the teacher. His blue eyes stare intently at the board, and he scribbles a few notes down. He finally meets my gaze. "Why aren't you paying attention?"
"It's the last lesson of school," I whisper back. "Besides, none of this will matter eventually."
"Yes, it will. Our GCSEs will determine whether we go to the sixth form here or if we go elsewhere."
"My future's already decided; I have no say in what I do. So, what is the point of doing my GCSEs anyway?"
"You will regret saying that." Luke turns back to the teacher.

I open my bag to locate the book I brought to school with me. It is a book about the Titanic- I know I wanted to keep away from it, but I cannot hold it off for much longer. Within a year, I will be in 1509. At that point, I can't rely on history books for support. I will be walking into the Tudor Court almost blind. I need to get all the help I can now, or it will all be for nothing. I can't fail my mission, not when billions of lives are at stake, including my own.

The bell finally rings, and everyone starts packing up. Anne is cheering as she finishes packing her bag. "Roll on the summer!"
"We'll be back before you know it." Catalina pushes her chair under the table. "Besides, aren't we supposed to study this summer? We only have months to prepare for our GCSEs."
"Spoilsport." Anne heads towards the door, followed by her cousins and Anna.
"Do you think I'm a spoilsport?" Catalina asks Clyde.
"Absolutely not! Anne's just pulling your leg. Come on, or they'll beat us out!" Clyde grabs his backpack, and he and Rani walk out the door. Catalina, Luke, and I follow behind.

Hundreds of students are in the playground, many starting to walk home. Some are waiting to catch the bus or walking toward their parents. As expected, someone is waiting for us. Since Harry came back, he started walking us to and from school. He said he wanted to make sure we're safe, but I think most of it is because he wants to spend as much time with Catalina as possible. Honestly, I don't blame him. Catalina mourned him for decades, and she deserves as much happiness as possible.

But today, another person stands beside Harry. Both men have their hands behind their backs and seem deep in conversation. While Harry is wearing his usual white shirt and black tie with matching trousers, the man he's talking to looks out of place, and I don't just mean looking out of place in the playground. He is wearing a navy reefer jacket with matching trousers and a cap on his head. Most of us stop walking to try and take the situation in, but Anne doesn't. She bounds right up to Harry. "Hey, French Fries," she says, calling him the name almost all the queens started using since he returned, "who's your friend?"
"Hilarious, Boleyn." Harry chuckles. "Do you not recognise him?"
Anne looks between Harry and the man beside him. As the man turns, I see a gold glitter on his hat. It's a logo that's become so familiar to me that it's almost burned into my brain. His cap has the White Star Line logo on it. "Hello, Annie," the voice says.

Anne doesn't need any more evidence. "James? Oh, my!" Anne turns to us. "Everyone! James is here!" The other queens start running over to the trio.
"James?" Clyde turns to me. "Do you recognise the name?"
"James Moody, the sixth officer on the Titanic," I say. "No wonder Anne's excited. Maybe Harry's theory is right."
"It could be a fluke," Luke points out. "Or maybe it happens every decade."
"But then it would have started ages ago," Rani says, "not this year. What's so important about this year?"
"Maybe James knows. But I'm still sticking with the theory that it's a fluke. Just because Harry gets it right one time doesn't mean he'll always be correct."
"Let's see what happens next year. Come on; I'm pretty excited to meet James if nothing else." Rani hurries on ahead, and I dash after her.

"Hi, Emma," James says when he notices me, "how are you?"
"Good. Still trying to understand the whole time-travel thing. It's doing my head in."
James chuckles. "Younger self?"
"That's right."
"So, where is your older self?"
"At sea, last time I checked," Anne says. "But Emma will be back any day."

It's still weird to hear my friends talk about me like that. Another reason I need to keep history intact is that my older self is still here. Yes, she said once she's only alive on the outside, but it's far better than dead. Right?

We start walking out of the playground, following the students running to get home. Some are taking their time, and we try to lose them quickly. What we want to talk about is not a subject for noisy students like Kelsey Hooper to overhear. We start taking the back roads home. It is quieter that way. There's less chance someone will overhear us. "How are the others?" Harry asks. "Are they getting on alright?"
"As alright as they can be," James nods, "they all insisted I go as I was the youngest. I wish I held more authority so someone else could go, but the others would not listen."
"Well, it would have been someone else who died that night."
"I know. I do not think I will ever forget those voices."
"Me neither."

As we walk, I'm sure I hear another pair of footsteps behind us, and I grab Luke. "What was that for, Em?"
"Shh!" I put a finger to my lips, and the footsteps cease. "I thought I heard another pair of footsteps."
"You sure?"
I nod. "Pretty sure. What do we do?"
"Run for it?"
I nod just as the footsteps start again. "RUN!" I dash past the group, with Luke hot on my heels.
"What's going on?" Catalina asks.
"Emma thinks someone is following us!" Luke calls back as I hear a second pair of footsteps that do not belong to us. Are there two people chasing us?

The others start running, and the pounding of our feet against the tarmac means we cannot hear who's following us. We dart around corners and try to lose whatever is chasing us. We run past garages with white doors until we reach a dead end. "A fat lot of good that was!" Rani says. "Do any of you have your mobiles?"
"What do you mean? Don't you have yours?" Clyde asks.
"It ran out of charge earlier."
Clyde pulls his phone out. "No signal. But that's impossible; there should be a signal here."
"Could whatever be chasing us block it?" James suggests.
"Well, whatever's causing it, there's no way we can call for help."
"So, we're stuck," Luke finishes.
"Pretty much."
"Right, what other resources do we have? Turn out your pockets."
"You sound like the head." Clyde starts emptying his pockets, and we do the same. We also unzip our bags to try and find anything useful.
Anne groans. "Nothing. We're doomed."

The creature- a Slitheen- finally shuffles into view. "Not again," James says. "I do not want it to be a Slitheen."
"Too bad," the Slitheen says. "You've got me."
"What do you want this time?" I snarl. "Surely you remember what happened to your family when you last tried to use Earth as a get-rich-quick scheme?"
"Actually, that doesn't sound too bad."
"It's not a compliment."
"Does it look like I care?" I notice movement behind the Slitheen; someone is there.
"Maybe you need to think about what you are doing here," James says. "Earth is a Level Five planet; you cannot be here."
"Slitheen never listen to intergalactic law."
"Then that explains a lot. So, what is your plan here? What are you going to do? If you are here to get rich from our suffering, it will not happen."
"Are you so sure about that? How can you lot stop me?"
"They might not right now, but I can!" A familiar voice yells. The Slitheen turns around just as my older self throws a bucket of vinegar over him.
"Oh, bum."
"No, no, no!" Harry yells.

The Slitheen explodes into thick, slimy chunks that splatter all over the garages- and all over us. "Let's get out of here before the owners realise what happened," my older self says, and she leads us out of the maze of garages, back towards Bannerman Road. "What were you lot thinking? The Slitheen could've killed you!"
"I have never known you to be so defensive before." James looks slightly amused. "Are you sure you are still the same Emma Murdoch as the one on the Titanic?"
"I had to change, grow up. I don't think I can ever be the same person again, James."
"I guess you are right about that." We round the corner to the driveway of number thirteen.

"What on Earth have you been up to?" Mummy asks when she spots us. She is standing in front of the Nissan Figaro, probably about to clean it. But she had forgotten about it when she saw us.
"A Slitheen chased us. Emma's older self had to save us." James tries to explain the situation as best as possible, and Mummy's gaze softens.
"At least the Slitheen didn't kill anyone. I hope that shows you two how dangerous our lives can be."
"I am sure it cannot get any worse than the Slitheen on the Grand Staircase." Harry chuckles.
"I guess not. Right, those living here go and get changed. I do not want Slitheen muck in the house, thank you very much."
"We better head home," Catalina says to the others. "See you later." She, Anna, Kitty, and my older self hurry over the road.
"I have no idea how I will explain this to Mum," Clyde says as he and Rani start walking away.
"What excuse will you use this time?" Rani asks.
"Paintball fight?"
"Did you use that excuse before?"
"I don't remember. Maybe."
Rani chuckles as she and Clyde head over the road. The rest of us head inside to get changed and remove all traces of the Slitheen.

When I finish changing, I throw my dirty clothes in the washing basket when Mummy calls me over. I walk over. "Emma, I want to know where your priorities lie next year."
"My priorities?"
"Your GCSEs are important; they will change your life. They will influence what job you can get in the future. You need to study hard next year."

No, they won't. My future depends on a crown- and Henrat, as much as I hate to admit it. All our futures lie on how well I can perform my tasks. One wrong move can send everything crashing down. I cannot- and will not- let that happen.

"Why is everyone so insistent that GCSEs will change my life?" I look over at a photograph hanging on the wall. It seems like it is from Tudor England, judging from the clothing. All the queens, including myself, are there. I also see faces I only recognised in portraits before, Mary, Elizabeth, Edward, Jane Grey, and Mary, Queen of Scots. I wonder what became of them. Mummy follows my gaze to the photo.
"If you decide you want to change your job, having GCSEs will help."
"I will never want to change my job. I love the sea!"
"What if Cunard fires you? You will have nothing to fall back on if you fail your exams."
"I have MONTHS, Mummy! I have months to remember all of history before I go back and do it all, so GCSEs are at the bottom of my priority list right now!"
"Your GCSEs should be at the top of your list, not-"
"If I get something wrong, we could cease to exist! Is that what you want? Hasn't your travels with the Doctor taught you anything?!"
"You will stop that, Emma. Your GCSEs must take priority now."
"My GCSEs are nothing compared to all of history! Why can't you understand the crisis I'm going through? It's far more important than stupid examinations or whether I will go to prom or not. All our lives are at stake here!"

"What's going on here?" Anne pokes her head out of her bedroom door.
"Anne, tell Mummy all of history is far more critical than my GCSEs!"
"All of history is superior." Anne steps out and closes the door behind her. "Remind me why this is important?"
"So everyone here will exist rather than fade into the void of nothingness?" I suggest. "Or so you and the other queens survive past Tudor England?"
"Why are you two having this conversation now?"
"Please don't ask me. Mummy started it."
"Well, Sarah Jane?"

Before Mummy can reply, more doors start opening. Jane, Luke, Harry, and James emerge. "What's going on?" Jane asks.
"Jane, which is more superior?" Anne asks. "All of history or GCSEs?"
"Why are you having this conversation now and not in September?"
"Blame Sarah Jane; she's the one who brought it up."
"Someone, please explain what's going on," James says as Mum walks up.
"Is there a family meeting I didn't know about?" Mum looks between each of us.
"I'm just trying to remind the queens that their priorities should be their GCSEs," Mummy says.
"Mum?" I ask. "Do you think all of history or GCSEs are more important?"
"What's brought this on?" Mum asks.
"I only have a few months until I travel back in time."
"How many months?"
"A little under a year, so almost immediately after my GCSEs finish."

Mum mumbles a swear word under her breath. "If that is the case, all of history should be your priority."
"But you have time to do that," Mummy says.
"No, she doesn't. If she leaves almost as soon as she finishes her GCSEs, she must prioritise one over the other."
"What are GCSEs?" James asks.
"General Certificate of Secondary Education," Luke says. "Schools, colleges and employers value them after A-levels. We'll do our GCSEs next year."
"I guess that makes sense," James nods. "But I don't get why Emma can't do both? If GCSEs are so important-"
"Surely all of history should be her priority?" Anne asks. "If something goes wrong, you, James Moody, could cease to exist! All it takes is one little nudge for everything to go into meltdown."

What have I done?