To my horror, my voice wobbled. I was going to cry. This was no good – I still had plenty to say. And I was so tired. And my chest hurt. And my arms. And my shoulders. And I’d held on to him long enough for him to be rescued. And he was yelling at me about it. And I was stuck in this new life. In this new world. And I didn’t know where I belonged. And people were chasing me. That was what I was yelling about. Why didn’t he know that? I leaned on the console for support and the tears just ran down my cheeks.
Of course he knew it. I really should have more faith. In fact, it was time we both had a little more faith in each other. I heard him take a deep, ragged breath.
He said quietly, ‘Sweetheart, don’t cry.’
He put his arms around me. A little awkwardly, but with luck, practice would make perfect.
‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I really should look after you better. I’ve had you for less than two days and already you’re half dead.’
I sniffed into his muddy tunic. ‘You can’t take all the credit for that. I was half dead when I got here.’
‘I know this wasn’t what either of us expected, but we’re stuck with it for the time being. I promise you, Lucy, we will get through this. We’ll find somewhere safe.’
I put my arms around him and closed my eyes. To have the time to stand still, just for a second … This wasn’t about who fell in the ditch and who disobeyed whose instructions. This was about two people pitchforked into a new life together before the wounds of the old life had completely healed. Two people who were scared, exhausted, and hurt.
Actually, more hurt than they realised.
‘Max, where’s all this blood coming from?’
‘What blood?’ I stepped back and looked at my hands, sticky with blood. There were smears on the console, too.
He held me at arm’s length. ‘Are you in any pain?’
‘Yes, all over, but it’s not me. I think it’s you.’
He pulled his tunic over his head, twisting to see his back. A huge red and purple bruise blossomed under his shoulder blade. A small cut oozed with enthusiasm.
I said. ‘I’d better take a look at that before it gets infected. Take a shower while I check the First Aid box.’
Actually, it’s not so much a First Aid box, more a First Aid cupboard. Historians can be a little accident-prone, sometimes.
He emerged, drying his hair. I washed my hands and peered at the wound.
‘Can you lie down?’
‘With pleasure. It’s been a long day.’
He stretched himself face down on the floor with a groan.
I cleaned the wound and applied antiseptic spray. He barely flinched.
‘It’s OK. You can be a baby if you want to.’
He turned his head to the side. ‘I’m being a Man. Show some appreciation, will you?’
‘Sorry. I’m very impressed. Just a small dressing for the cut and I have some anti-inflammation stuff that should numb the bruised area, as well. Just hold still.’
I used two fingers to apply the cream in small circles, being as gentle as I could. Taking my time. The bruise was the size of a dinner plate. He must have fetched himself a real wallop when he fell.
‘I never noticed,’ he said. ‘Too busy hanging on.’
‘Does it hurt?’
‘No,’ he said, being Manly again.
I finished and passed him his T-shirt, but he didn’t move.
‘Shall I help you up?’
‘Can you give me a minute?’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Was that supposed to reduce stiffness?’
I read the label again.
‘Yes. Is there a problem?’
‘I might need to write a letter of complaint.’
‘Why? Does it still hurt?’
A pause.
‘Yes. Let’s go with that, shall we?’
Chapter Five
An hour later, we’d indulged in the traditional St Mary’s ritual for dealing with any sort of crisis, which is to imbibe vast reservoirs of tea. People laugh, but it works. By the time the kettle has boiled, the tea made, the amount of sugar added has been silently criticised, the tea blown on and finally drunk … all this takes time, and if you’re a member of St Mary’s with the attention-span of a privet hedge, then you’ve forgotten what you were arguing about in the first place.
We’d established where and when we were. In 8th-century Scandinavia. It was impossible to be more precise, and that was something else to worry about. We’d had five jumps now – one after the other in quick succession and a couple of those had been emergency extractions.