He realigned the files on his desk. I decided to take the initiative.
‘I’m really very grateful for your hospitality, Dr Bairstow, but I think I should return to Rushford as soon as possible. I’m anxious about Leon’s flat.’
‘I don’t think that would be a wise move, Dr Maxwell. I’m certain we haven’t seen the last of them and, thanks to their efforts, your flat is not, at this moment, habitable. I’m sorry.’
I sat, dismayed. So just to recap, no home, no possessions, no identity, no job, no money, no Leon … Normal people reaching my age have usually acquired houses, mortgages, jobs, cars, families, pets – I had nothing. I had even less than I started with all those years ago. I didn’t even own the clothes I was currently sitting in.
‘I have a proposal for you, instead. We recently received an assignment I think might interest you. 14th-century London. Southwark, to be precise. The Tabard Inn. An in-depth investigation into medieval pilgrims journeying to Canterbury. You might even catch a sight of Chaucer himself. You and Dr Peterson. Would you be interested?’
I smiled. ‘This is a test, isn’t it? After I shot my mouth off in the dining-room the other day. You want me to put my money where my mouth is.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind, yes.’
‘And will I come back?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’
But he did. He knew exactly what I was saying.
‘Well, it’s all over now, isn’t it? Everyone’s pretty well off the hook. And if you can get rid of me then even if they do come back, their star suspect is dead in an unfortunate accident in the 14th century. How sad. Still, probably a blessing in disguise, don’t you think? Of course, Leon will take it badly, but he must be getting used to it by now.’
Oh my God, did I just say that? I wondered if, perhaps, I was becoming a little unhinged.
Time ticked on. As it does. I could hear a motor mower outside. That would be Mr Strong giving the South Lawn a Brazilian. The lovely smell of fresh-cut grass floated in through the window and still we stared at each other. It crossed my mind again that I really should have died at Agincourt.
‘I am sorry you feel that way. It has not been my intention …’ He stopped. ‘Perhaps it is time we all put our cards on the table. As a mark of good faith, I shall go first. You are obviously aware of the Time Police and their function. Leon will have told you. You will know that Leon and I are from the future. That we were sent back to set up and then oversee St Mary’s. To keep it safe.’
I nodded.
‘The Time Police are formed a long time in the future. To combat a very real threat. They presented themselves at various incarnations of St Mary’s, all of whom voluntarily signed the Charter. We did not, initially, foresee any problem with them. Then. But when the threat disappeared, the Time Police did not. And then they became the threat. You know all this, I believe?’
I nodded again.
‘I have sent Leon to visit every incarnation of St Mary’s. It is difficult and it is dangerous. I don’t know for how long he will be gone. His mission is to persuade every Director to reject the presence of the Time Police in their unit. Even to foster rebellion if he has to. I hope that, up and down the timeline, the Time Police are being evicted from every St Mary’s even as we speak. Some will be easier than others, of course. And by now he will have a price on his head.’
He hadn’t left me. He hadn’t run away and left me. The dreadful black fear living inside me, the one I hadn’t acknowledged, even to myself, shrivelled and died. For a moment, just for a moment, my heart soared. And then crashed back to earth again.
He stared out of the window.
‘It is very possible he will not return.’
‘He might already be dead?’
‘He might be, yes.’
‘And we’ll never know.’
‘If the Time Police ever do return here, then we will know that he failed. We will be preparing for that event. In the meantime, after discussion with my senior staff, we are all of the opinion that you might, for a while, be safer in the 14th century than here at St Mary’s. However, this is a genuine assignment with a genuine purpose. I hope very much that you will accept it.’
Outside, the motor mower roared past again. We were talking about Leon dying and the end of St Mary’s and outside, life carried on as normal.
It was my turn to speak.
‘My name really is Madeleine Maxwell, but I’m not your Madeleine Maxwell. I really did work at St Mary’s, but not your St Mary’s. I was appointed Deputy Director and chose Agincourt for my last jump. It all went wrong and I received a fatal chest wound, as I’m sure Dr Foster has reported. I fell and when I opened my eyes, I was bleeding on Leon’s carpet, in Rushford.’