A Second Chance (The Chronicles of St Mary's #3)

by Jodi Taylor

‘Witch! Witch!’ You couldn’t blame them, I suppose. From their point of view, I stretched out an arm and a man fell to the ground. Predictable, but given that this was supposed to be a world-famous seat of learning in the Age of Reason, I was a little disappointed.

He seemed in remarkably good nick for an elderly academic who had been pursued through the muddy streets of Cambridge by a baying mob before being hurled through time and space like something in a welly whanging contest.

He was as bad as us historians. Faced with impending catastrophe, an historian will always pause in the headlong dash to safety and think – Oh, that’s interesting.

‘As Joan of Arc probably said: “Build a girl a fire and she’s warm for a few minutes. Set a girl on fire and she’s warm for the rest of her life.”’

‘I don’t think yours will ever be a conventional life, Max. And I think you will find your happiness in an unconventional way.

the louder and longer you shout, the less people listen.

‘My talents are limitless, sir. Something I was planning to bring up at my next performance appraisal.’ ‘Really? Why?’ ‘Well, it wouldn’t be appropriate to bring it up at someone else’s, would it?’ ‘Since I feel certain that by then, any credits you may have earned will be more than outweighed by corresponding debits for damages incurred, I remain unalarmed by this threat.’ ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your false sense of security, sir.’

‘He was very keen.’ ‘He was very concussed.’

When I mentioned this to Peterson, he laughed and accused me of paranoia. Which is ridiculous because of course I know the whole world isn’t really out to get me. I’m pretty sure Switzerland is neutral.

‘You’re a bad woman, Lucy.’ ‘I certainly hope so. I’ve put a lot of time and effort into it.’