‘Really? You’d be all right with that?’
‘I’ve seen you fashion a weapon out of two pieces of toilet paper and a paperclip. There’s no way I’m going to be trapped in a small flat with an angry woman who has access to a vacuum cleaner.’ He put his hand over mine. ‘It really will work, you know.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I do know that, really. And if you changed your mind and didn’t want to do it then I’d be really disappointed. It’s just … I’m …’
‘Of course you are,’ he said, following this without difficulty. ‘But everything will be fine. Yes, there will be days when doors will be slammed and pots will be thrown. But I promise you now, you’ll never have to hide in a wardrobe again.’
As a child, I’d spent a lot of time at the back of my wardrobe, eyes squeezed tight shut, hoping and praying that this time – this time – I would open them to the snow-covered trees of Narnia and safety. It never happened.
I nodded. ‘I am looking forward to it. Not leaving St Mary’s – that’s not going to be fun, but …’
‘You’re not saying goodbye for ever,’ he interrupted. ‘We’ll still see them. They can come for Sunday lunch. Not all of them at the same time, of course, we won’t have enough chairs. We can meet them in the pub. You’re not cutting them completely out of our lives. Remember, they’re my friends too.’
‘You’re right. I don’t know why I’m worrying because I do have a fall-back position. If things don’t work out for us, Professor Penrose has offered to take me on.’
He regarded me severely.
‘Is it not enough that you bounced that poor man all around the universe without threatening his declining years as well?’
‘You can’t blame me for setting up a first reserve.’
‘I’m so glad to see you’re approaching this new phase of your life with total commitment.’
‘He was very keen.’
‘He was very concussed.’
I glared at him.
‘One day you really must tell me why you think I’m so unattractive to other men.’
‘It would take much longer than one day.’
‘It’s not just Professor Penrose, you know. The world is full of men who find me irresistible.’
‘Really? Well, I’ll be blowed.’
‘After that last comment – unlikely.’
Chapter Nine
Everything had changed on our second visit. By our calculations, the war was well into its tenth year now and the Trojans were suffering. Long years cooped up behind their own walls had taken their toll. The arrival of their allies had more than tripled the population. The streets were packed with Lydians, Carians, Phrygians, Lycians, Thracians, and many more, all noisily pushing their way through the crowds and filling every roadside tavern and eating-place.
The rural areas were much less haphazard than during our first visit. Almost every square inch was under cultivation. Livestock no longer roamed free, but were confined and carefully guarded.
Our olive grove was still there, but someone had assumed ownership, pruning the trees and scything the grass. Three haystacks, carefully built around central poles, now stood between the tavern and us.
We had thought long and hard about returning to our original sites. Surely our sudden reappearance would provoke at the very least, gigantic curiosity, if not outright hostility. We were foreign – we left – the war came – and now we were back. It wasn’t hard to imagine their suspicions.
We abandoned Site A as being too public. Too near the heavily guarded citadel. And we needed to be closer together. Just in case.
We eased back into Troy very carefully. First one pod, with me, Guthrie, and Peterson. We waited a day. No one tried to kill us. The second pod, Number Five, landed late at night, so in the morning, there were two of them.
Nothing happened.
We repeated ourselves three days later with Number Three, twenty yards away to the west, on the other side of the grove. No reaction. Finally, and with a certain amount of trepidation, we introduced a fourth, Number Six. So that was twelve of us here and I’d fretted over nothing because it was two days before anyone even turned up to investigate and then it was only a short, scrawny, grubby boy with a shock of dark hair and ears like the wing mirrors on an old Beetle I’d once owned. Helios had grown up.