A Trail Through Time (The Chronicles of St Mary's, #4)

‘I still can’t find it,’ he said and I could hear the tension in his voice.

‘Don’t stop now. Make the incision bigger again. Maybe Helen inserted it lower down. Or, since I’ve had an exciting life, it might have come loose and be lodged somewhere in my armpit.’

He stared at me. ‘You have no idea how these things work, do you?’

‘Of course not. I’m an historian. We concentrate on the bigger picture.’

He frowned. ‘Max, I don’t know.’

‘You must, or we’re screwed. You can do it.’

‘I’m hurting you.’

‘Not a lot. I’m just being a baby.’

He began again.

I jerked. I couldn’t help it. ‘Sorry. Sorry.’

‘I know, love. I think we should stop. I’m going to do some damage if I go any deeper. There are tendons and blood vessels and I haven’t a clue what I’m doing.’

‘No, you can’t stop. If you don’t do this, I’ll insist we split up, because you have to get back to St Mary’s.’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’

‘Then get on with it and stop pissing around.’

More pain. Yuk.

‘So what happens after the thousand pounds an inch bit?’

‘What?’

‘The joke? A thousand pounds an inch?’

‘The … the … doctor says, “ Look, talk to your wife about this. Any … radical … difference in the size and shape of your todger is going to come … as … a bit of a shock … to her. ”’

‘I’ll say,’ he said, calmly. ‘Imagine if I came at you waving something the same size and shape as a fire hose.’

‘I’d really rather not. One ordeal a day is enough.’

‘Against my will, I’m being drawn into this social and medical drama. What happens next?’

‘The doctor calls the … next morning.’

I had to stop for a while.

‘Drink more brandy.’

‘Yes.’ I swigged a mouthful. Then another. ‘Oh God, I hate this stuff.’

I had another mouthful to take the taste away.

Even in the dim glow of our lightstick, I could see how pale he looked. He wasn’t enjoying this any more than I was.

I said, softly, ‘It’s all right, love. You’re doing just fine.’

Just for a moment, we looked at each other …

‘So, the doctor visits the next morning and says, “Did your wife call?” and the man says “ Yes. We discussed everything thoroughly … and came to a decision.” And the doctor says, “Great! What’s it to be then ?” And the man … says … the man says …’

‘Yes? Yes? For God’s sake, I’m on the edge of my seat here.’

‘And the man says, “We’re having a new kitchen.”’

Another long, pain-crowded pause.

Without looking up, he said, ‘I can’t believe you think that’s funny.’

From dim and distant Brandyland, I slurred, ‘Of course it is. It’s … hilarious.’

‘I’m not laughing.’

‘Sorry. Was it too difficult … for you? Should I have dumbed … it down? You know, the techie version?’

‘How could you think that’s funny?’

‘Well, every … one … else just … fell … about. Kal … nearly wet herself.

‘You’re comparing me to that six foot blonde psychopath?’

‘You … wouldn’t … aaaghh … say … that if she was here.’

‘I wish she was here.’

I said, ‘You’re doing … very … well,’ and closed my eyes. Just for a second. Just for a little while.

I awoke several hours later. Leon was lying half under the console, muttering to himself.

I smiled. ‘Hey.’

He lifted his head.

‘There you are. How are you feeling?’

My arm was on fire. My head was on fire. My chest was on fire.

‘I’m never drinking brandy again.’

‘Hangover?’

‘Mouth like the bottom of a dodo cage. Did you get it?’

He shook his head. ‘No.’

I said, ‘Shit,’ and let my head fall back.

Now we were in trouble.

But not anything like the trouble we were going to be in.





Chapter Eight

I love Leon Farrell dearly. He is the still small voice of calm at the centre of my hectic, historian world. He knows me better than I know myself and doesn’t allow that to put him off in any way. He knows when to agree with me. He knows when to argue. He knows when I need to be talked out of something for my own good. And best of all, he knows all this without being told. I trust his judgement more than anyone’s.

So what the hell he was playing at when he let Professor Rapson organise the diversion at St Mary’s was a complete mystery to me.

We presented ourselves at the rendezvous point an hour early – a minor miracle given the condition of the pod.

We were situated just below the woods to the west of the lake. We weren’t camouflaged, but outbuildings and stables would give us some cover. Helios could make his way up through the woods themselves and approach us from the rear.

Leon sat at the console, checking the systems again. Cameras and sound were turned up to the maximum. We needed to know what was happening around us.