‘I seem to remember you mentioning it almost incessantly this last week. You’ve got Number Eight, by the way.’
‘Great! Eight is my lucky number.’ I grinned like an idiot and hopped from foot to foot in my impatience to get going,
‘Go, Miss Maxwell, before you break something.’
‘Bye, Chief.’ And I was gone.
I helped myself to eggs, bacon, hash browns, and grapefruit juice. The others did the same, although Nagley just pushed hers around the plate. I thought she looked a little pale and when I spoke to her she only nodded. Sussman, naturally, was nearly as full of it as me.
As soon as we finished, we set off to Wardrobe. I was issued a thick, coarse, brown woollen dress of ankle length.
‘Forget sweeping around with a long dress,’ said Mrs Enderby, supervising my transformation. ‘This is not the movies. Nothing picks up dust, dirt, wet, excrement, and the occasional dead dog as much as a sweeping hemline. You’ll thank us when you’re tip-toeing through the delights of a medieval street.’ She was kind enough not to mention occasionally having to run for my life as well. The look we were going for was a young, respectable housewife, maybe a journeyman’s wife or an upper servant to a prosperous household. A young, unmarried, and seemingly unprotected girl wandering around the streets would be asking for trouble.
Underneath I wore several linen shifts and, underneath them, a sports bra and modern thermal underwear. There was no way I would be wandering around medieval Shrewsbury in early spring with no drawers on. And, as Mrs Enderby so cheerfully said, if things got bad then the wearing of anomalous underwear was going to be the least of my problems.
I also got a linen coif to show my married status, a pair of stout leather shoes, a dark green cloak, and a basket. We always carry something. It helps us blend in and gives us something to do with our hands.
They showed me the waterproof matches, compass, and water purification tablets all carefully sewn into concealed pockets.
Sussman was off to a Victorian village cricket match, Nagley to Restoration London, and Grant got Roman York. All quiet and unspectacular jumps since we were, for the first and last time, going solo. It only ever happens on the first jump; for all other jumps there are always at least two historians.
Wardrobe checked us over for watches and jewellery and then despatched us to the hangar. Of course, everyone knew where we were going and why. Best wishes and good luck calls followed us down the corridors. I don’t know how the others felt, but my insides were somersaulting and I was equally torn between fear and excitement.
We entered the noisy hangar. All the pods were in on that day so there were a lot of people around.
We scattered towards our respective pods. Number Eight was at the end. Chief Farrell was waiting. The computer read the codes and opened the door. I climbed in and looked around. The console sat to the right of the door in this pod and I could see the co-ordinates already laid in.
‘All done,’ said the Chief. ‘It’s all on automatic for this jump. There’s really nothing for you to do but sit back and enjoy the ride. Let’s just rein you in a bit so we can go through the pre-flight checks.’ He pulled his scratchpad from his knee pocket and began punching keys while I walked around checking everything. Opening a locker door I was surprised to see it fully stocked with rations; lots of rations.
‘What’s all this?’
‘Oh, I forgot to say. We’re turning this one round as soon as you come back, so it’s ready loaded for fourteen days. Is this a problem for you?’
‘No, that’s fine.’
‘Well, the head’s working. Try and keep it that way. So is the incinerator. The tanks are full and the cells charged. It’s the easiest jump you’ll ever have; absolutely nothing for you to do. How long are you going for?’
‘Only six hours. I used to know Shrewsbury quite well, so I’m looking forward to having a good wander round. They won’t let me stay any longer.’
He smiled. ‘Six hours is long enough for your first trip.’
‘Am I going in real time?’
‘No. Six hours for you and thirty minutes for me. After I’ve seen you off, I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee and wait over there for you to come back. You’ll be back here before I’ve finished it.’
‘If you have a cup of tea ready for me, then I’ll tell you all about it.’
He looked at me with his head on one side. ‘Yes, all right.’
I was suddenly embarrassed. ‘Oh, no, it’s OK, Chief. I just thought … you know … of course, it’s nothing special for you, is it?’
‘I shall demand a blow-by-blow account from you in return for a mug of tea. Now, are you all set?’
Putting the basket on the second chair, I settled in the left-hand seat and checked the readouts. I took a deep breath, turned and grinned at him. ‘Yes!’