‘No, ma’am. Apparently, it was felt – by Trainee Lockland – that a six-foot-four, sixteen-stone Time Police officer with the social skills of a T-rex with barbed-wire-encased haemorrhoids, and in possession of enough weaponry to level a street, would . . . induce . . . the officials to regard Mrs Chubb’s predicament in a kindly and timely manner.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Tell me Lt Grint has not razed these civilian premises to the ground.’ ‘Not . . . quite, ma’am.’ ‘Oh God.’
