‘Max, how are you?’
‘Absolutely fine,’ I said, the traditional St Mary’s response to any sort of catastrophe. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Chief Farrell sent me. I want to volunteer and he said that as you’re Head of the History Department, I had to clear it with you.’
Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. To cover my confusion, I sat at my desk and invited her to sit down as well.
She was different. Everything about her was different. She sat straight in her chair. Her grey eyes were clear and direct. Given recent events, she seemed surprisingly calm.
‘Say that again.’
‘I want to volunteer to join Major Guthrie’s team. To hunt down Ronan and bring back Matthew.’
I was at a loss. She’d done everything she could to avoid getting back into a pod and now, here she was, volunteering not only to do that very thing, but to go after the man who’d abandoned her to a nasty death as well.
My confusion must have shown because she smiled sadly.
‘I don’t blame you Max, but this is something I must do. I’ve been mooning about, frightening myself to death, thinking about what could happen to me, and it never once occurred to me that it could happen to someone else. This bastard is a danger and a menace and he must be stopped. I want to help stop him. I must do this. I must go with Chief Farrell and Major Guthrie. I must get him out of my life. And everyone else’s as well. You’ve kept me on here and I appreciate it; you’ve given me every chance to be an historian again, but we both know I’m not making any sort of contribution. Now though, I think I can. May I have your permission to go with Guthrie and Farrell?’
I couldn’t think of anything to say except, ‘Subject to Dr Bairstow’s approval, yes. Thank you.’
She smiled and got up to go. ‘We’ll get him, Max. You just wait and see.’
Leon’s goodbye was brief. We stood outside Hawking in the early morning sunshine. Two black pods stood at the edge of the pan, doors open, ramps down. Waiting for our people.
He took my hand. ‘I hate to go off and leave you looking so broken.’
‘Bring him back. And stay safe yourself. That’s all I ask.’
‘Two days Max. Just two days.’
‘I know. Take care.’
He kissed my hand and my cheek. ‘See you Friday.’
‘I’ll be waiting.’
I stood with everyone else as they set off. I watched Leon, Guthrie and Grey walk across the pan together, and enter the nearest pod. Leon turned briefly and raised a hand to me. Then the ramp came up behind them, the pods blinked out of existence, and they were gone.
All around me, people were dispersing. Getting on with their day. I looked down at my feet and wondered what to do with myself now.
He held out his little arms to me.
Turning to go, I saw Peterson standing some little distance away, staring at the spot where the Time Police pods had been. He looked around, saw me watching, and turned away.
I know that in popular romances, the suffering heroine is always too distraught to eat, thus arriving at the end of the book having not only triumphed over adversity, but gained the hero and a stunning figure as well. I’d never believed it myself. How could anyone ever forget to eat? But now I realised I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten anything. Lunchtime yesterday, I think. Before jumping to the Egyptian desert. This time yesterday. When I still had a family.
I had a sudden memory of Leon, years ago, telling me how he’d lost his first family. ‘I started the week with a happy, healthy family, and by the end of it, I was the only one left.’ Tragedy is that sudden. That unexpected. This time yesterday, I too had had a happy, healthy family. And now they were both gone.
He held out his arms to me…
I went for some food.
When I returned, Miss Lee was in my office, head down, working away. I stood in the doorway and looked at her. She was actually working, but this was not the moment for sarky comments.
She looked up. ‘Max? Any news?’
I shook my head. ‘Not yet. They’ve only just left.’
‘There will be, I’m sure. What can I do?’
‘Actually, I don’t know. Nothing, I suppose. I can’t do anything. Not at the moment, anyway. Thank you for coming in so early.’
‘I can stay late, as well, if you need me. David is taking care of Benjamin.’
David Sands was a former historian with whom she lived and Benjamin was her son. Who must be doubly precious after yesterday’s events.
I sat at my desk and pulled out a mission folder, centred it carefully on my desk, took a breath and opened it.
Two days. Just two days. I could do that.
I don’t know about anyone else, but when confronted with personal tragedy, I’m always slightly affronted that the world seems to carry on as if nothing has happened. I never know whether this is a good or bad thing. True, it can sometimes help to keep things in perspective, but it doesn’t make things easy. The world didn’t stop for me and it certainly didn’t stop for Peterson who remained alone in his room, seeing no one except Markham.
Dr Bairstow sent for me.
‘Good morning, Dr Maxwell.’
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘Thank you for coming.’
‘No choice, sir. In the absence of any other senior staff, we seem to be stuck with each other.’
‘A burden,’ he said gravely. ‘I wonder which of us will crumble first.’
I knew who my money was on.
‘I’ve sent for a new Chief Medical Officer.’
I caught my breath and experienced, once again, the shock of Helen’s loss.
He was watching me carefully. ‘It seems callous, I know, but we cannot afford to be without full medical support.’ He laid a file in front of me. I opened it. The photo was on the inside cover.
A twelve-year-old boy with a bony face, large ears and heavy eyebrows stared back at me. I know I was at the age when policemen and doctors were beginning to look young, but even so … Was he some sort of infant prodigy?
‘Dr Nathaniel Stone,’ he said. ‘He will be with us possibly later today or, more probably, tomorrow. He will certainly be in place before our next assignment.’ He paused expectantly.
‘1064, sir. The shipwreck of Harold Godwinson.’
He knew that. He was just giving me the opportunity to ease myself back in gently and I was grateful.
‘I would appreciate your reassurance that none of you intend actually to participate either in the shipwreck or the rescue.’
‘Happy to give it, sir. Observe and document only.’
‘Excellent. Let us hope then that it is some time before we need to put our new doctor’s skills to the test.’
He paused again and began to align the files on his desk. ‘Dr Peterson…’
I kept myself calm. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘I am grieved to hear that you and Dr Peterson do not find yourselves able to support each other during this time.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Without looking at me he said, ‘I would not, if I were you, assign any importance to anything Dr Peterson does or says over the next week or so. He is, naturally, very shocked and distressed. He has not yet even begun to grieve. There are, I believe, certain stages to be worked through. I am certain that he will prevail, and when he returns to us – as I am sure he will – it will be good for him to find his colleagues ready and willing to offer him the support and understanding he will certainly need. I always think that true friends should never allow a few words, hastily uttered, to sever the ties of strong and longstanding friendships.’
I don’t know how he knows these things. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had the entire building bugged. But then, if he did, he would have seen what was happening in Sick Bay. In time to prevent…
He held out his arms…
‘And you, Max, how are you?’
‘Absolutely fine, sir.’
‘I’m very pleased to hear that. How are you really?’
I hesitated.
‘How are you, Max?’
‘I…’
He waited.