by Jodi Taylor
Copyright © 2020 Jodi Taylor
The right of Jodi Taylor to be identified as the Author of
the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain in 2020 by
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
First published as an Ebook in Great Britain in 2020 by
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
1
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may
only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior
permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in
accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication – other than the obvious historical figures –
are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 4722 6680 4
Ebook by CC Book Production
Cover design and illustration by zoedrawsthings.co.uk
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
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About the Book
I would have trusted this man with my life. Until a couple of days ago, anyway.
You know what they say – hope for the best, but plan for the worst.
Max is quite accustomed to everything going wrong. She’s St Mary’s, after all. Disaster is her default state. But with her family reunited and a jump to Bronze Age Crete in the works, life is getting back to normal. Well, normal for St Mary’s.
And then, following one fateful night at the Tower of London, everything Max thought she knew comes crashing down around her.
Too late for plans. The worst has happened. And who can Max trust now?
About the Author
Jodi Taylor is the internationally bestselling author of the Chronicles of St Mary’s series, the story of a bunch of disaster-prone individuals who investigate major historical events in contemporary time. Do NOT call it time travel! She is also the author of the Time Police series – a St Mary’s spinoff and gateway into the world of an all-powerful, international organisation who are NOTHING like St Mary’s. Except, when they are.
Alongside these, Jodi is known for her gripping supernatural thrillers featuring Elizabeth Cage together with the enchanting Frogmorton Farm series – a fairy story for adults.
Born in Bristol and now living in Gloucester (facts both cities vigorously deny), she spent many years with her head somewhere else, much to the dismay of family, teachers and employers, before finally deciding to put all that daydreaming to good use and write a novel. Nearly twenty books later, she still has no idea what she wants to do when she grows up.
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By Jodi Taylor and available from Headline
TIME POLICE SERIES
Doing Time
The Chronicles of St Mary’s series
Just One Damned Thing After Another
A Symphony of Echoes
A Second Chance
A Trail Through Time
No Time Like the Past
What Could Possibly Go Wrong?
Lies, Damned Lies, and History
And the Rest is History
An Argumentation of Historians
Hope for the Best
Plan For the Worst
Short-story collections
The Long and Short of It
Long Story Short
The Chronicles of St Mary’s digital shorts
When a Child is Born
Roman Holiday
Christmas Present
Ships and Stings and Wedding Rings
THE VERY FIRST DAMNED THING
The Great St Mary’s Day Out
My Name is Markham
A Perfect Storm
Christmas Past
Battersea Barricades
The Steam-Pump Jump
And Now For Something Completely Different
When Did You Last See Your Father?
Why is Nothing Ever Simple?
Elizabeth Cage novels
White Silence
Dark Light
Frogmorton Farm Series
The Nothing Girl
The Something Girl
Little Donkey (digital short)
A Bachelor Establishment
Contents
Title
Copyright
About the Book
About the Author
Also by Jodi Taylor
Dedication
Epigraph
Dramatis Thingummy
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
Acknowledgements
For all my lovely readers
‘Sometimes I just sit with my head in my hands and wonder why I’m not in a loony bin. Then I look around St Mary’s and realise I already am.’
Excerpt from Thoughts of an Overworked Chief Technical Officer After a Long Day
Available from any bookshop that can be persuaded to stock it.
Dramatis Thingummy
St Mary’s Personnel
Dr Bairstow
Head of St Mary’s. Always resolute in his determination to protect his people. Until now.
Mrs Partridge
PA to Dr Bairstow. Muse of History. Not above the occasional intervention herself.
Dr Peterson
Deputy Director. Inching his way towards an understanding with Miss Lingoss. Think continental drift with the brakes on.
Thirsk’s new representative
Not sure there’s any more to say.
History Department
Dr Maxwell
Head of the History Department. Hopes for the best but plans for the worst. Major protagonist in the Malevolent Mug of Tea crisis.
Mr
Clerk
Senior Historian.
Miss Prentiss
Senior Historian.
Mr Sands
Newly returned historian, bestselling author, shacked up with Rosie Lee. Living dangerously.
Mr Roberts
Another newly returned historian. Victim of an unexpected passion for Miss Sykes. Another one living dangerously. What is it with historians?
Miss Sykes
Historian. Apparently no longer willing to share her man with a gender-neutral chicken and ready to move on.
Mr Atherton
Historian. Normal. A bit of a contradiction in terms but definitely normal. Within the standard St Mary’s definition of the word ‘normal’.
Miss Van Owen
Another newly returned historian. Eagle-eyed readers will have noted the absence of Miss North.
Rosie Lee
PA to Max. The other protagonist in the Malevolent Mug of Tea trauma.
Security Section
Mr Markham
Apron-wearing Head of Security. Imminent father. Might be in serious trouble. Of course he’s in serious trouble. He’s always in serious trouble. Only the depth varies.
Mr Evans
Security guard.
Mr Cox
Security guard.
Mr Keller
Security guard.
Mr Gallacio
Security guard.
Mr Scott
Security guard.
Mr Gregg
Security guard.
Mr Irving
Security guard.
Technical Section
Chief Technical
Guilty or not? He can’t remember.
Officer Farrell
Mr Dieter
Technician. Unexpectedly reunited with his soulmate. Not sure the world is quite ready for this.
Mr Lindstrom
Small, shy technician.
Adrian
New arrival. Former fugitive. Part-owner of the most dangerous piece of equipment in the universe.
Research and Development
Professor Rapson
Chicken-flinging maniac.
Miss Lingoss
The nearest thing to normal in this reality-challenged department.
Mikey
New arrival. The other owner of the most dangerous piece of equipment in the universe.
Others
Dr Dowson
Head Librarian. Reluctant chicken recipient. He’s reluctant – not the chickens. Just to be clear. The chickens’ views were never known. Earthquake enthusiast.
Mrs Mack
Kitchen Supremo.
Mrs Enderby
Head of the Wardrobe Department.
Mrs Brown
Ah yes . . . Mrs Brown.
Angus
Small brown chicken. Averse to being flung over the banisters.
Matthew Farrell
Making progress.
Professor Penrose
Utter lunatic. In an organisation famed for utter lunatics he’s up there with the utterest.
Dr Stone
Not half as green as he’s cabbage-looking. Max is beginning to listen.
Nurse Hunter
Married? Not married? Rendered moot by the end of the book. There are other things to worry about.
From the Future
M Bernard
Head concierge. Seventeen Rue St Jean.
M Caron
Another concierge.
The Time Police
Commander Hay
Head of the Time Police. Not Max’s favourite person.
Captain Farenden
Commander Hay’s adjutant.
Captain Ellis
Another unfavourite person.
Various other Time Police officers – including a probably very reluctant rescue team.
Future St Mary’s Personnel
No – that’s not clear. Personnel from a future St Mary’s.
Director
He didn’t give his name.
St Mary’s rescue team
Yes, another rescue team. There’s a lot of rescuing in this one.
Historical Persons
Eleven Vikings led by Rolf
Or possibly Hrolf. Excessive beard growth makes communication difficult.
Edward V
A prince in the Tower.
Richard, Duke of York
Another prince in the Tower.
Sundry Tower of London personnel
Sinister figures seen only after dark
Citizens of Mechelen, Burgundy
King Minos of Crete
High Priestess to the Mother
Three other priestesses
Intent on having their wicked way with a certain Head of Security.
Citizens of Knossos, Bull-leapers, bull handlers, bull worshippers, bull stable hands, escaped bulls. There’s a lot of bull in this one.
Firefighters
Magnificent in any age.
Clive Ronan
The clock is counting down . . .
1
I’ve always been vaguely aware of the existence of Duvet Days. I know Dr Bairstow ranks them alongside Atlantis, unicorns and competent politicians in the scheme of believable things, but I was believing in them now. In fact, I was on my sixth.
My recent secondment to the Time Police had left me so drained – physically and emotionally – that even the phrase ‘absolutely fine’ had failed to secure my release from Sick Bay. I’d tried to get out of bed, swayed in what Nurse Hunter had declared to be an unnecessarily dramatic manner and been commanded to climb back in again.
Dr Stone turned up with a syringe – there was a small prick – I really couldn’t be bothered to do the jokes all over again – and I suddenly felt better. Much better. Much, much better.
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That’s really good stu . . .’ and fell heavily asleep for the rest of the day.
And for much of the day after that, as well. I’d opened my eyes a couple of times, looked at the rain dribbling down the windowpanes, decided I couldn’t be bothered and closed my eyes again.
Now, however, it had been more than a week. Time, in the words of Dr Stone, to take up my bed and walk.
On doctor’s orders, I took it easy to begin with, spending the mornings in our sitting room with my feet up, reading to Matthew, half-heartedly watching holos on TV and generally not doing very much at all. In the afternoons the three of us – me, Matthew and Leon – would go for a stroll around the lake, peering into the water looking for fish, avoiding the swans, and in Matthew’s case, mostly not falling in.
In the evenings, when Leon and I could finally get a moment to ourselves, there were long moments when he just held me and that was fine because he was solid and warm and I could feel his slow, steady heartbeat. We would stand for a long time, not saying anything to disturb the moment. He would rub my back, gently, up and down, and slowly my jangled nerves would subside. Occasionally I’d bring up a bit of wind, as well.
There were big meals and a lot of resting. It wasn’t unpleasant. Everything was absolutely fine. Well, they were during the day – the nights were slightly different.
We’d have our evening meal together, watch a little TV and then Matthew would get ready for bed. There would be the usual washing and brushing teeth battle – he really didn’t see the point of cleaning himself up just to go to bed – and then Leon and I would settle down, sometimes with a glass of wine. Sometimes he’d work and I’d read a book, or he’d watch the football and I’d definitely read a book, and then it was time for bed. Everything would still be absolutely fine. We’d snuggle down for the night and I’d fall asleep almost immediately.