More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Jodi Taylor
Read between
June 27 - June 30, 2023
I walked up behind Captain Ellis, supervising things from a short distance away, and stuck Dr Bairstow’s gun in the back of his neck. ‘Please ask your people to put down their weapons.’ He sighed. ‘You won’t shoot me.’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘Can we just pretend everyone’s threatened everyone else, honour is satisfied and we can get on with something really important?
‘Thanks, Tim. I’ll make it up to you. Trust me.’ ‘How?’ said Ellis, suddenly materialising at my elbow. I caught Peterson’s eye. ‘Oh,’ I said vaguely, resisting the urge to twirl a finger in my hair. ‘Somehow.’ Ellis rolled his eyes.
I’d been instructed to stay out of things on pain of being shot. There had been no shortage of volunteers for that, apparently, so I waited outside, hopping from foot to foot in my impatience.
‘For God’s sake, behave yourself,’ said Markham as we were escorted along the corridor. ‘We’ve come too far for you to provoke them into shooting us now.’
I became more and more impatient and then there was shouting – which wasn’t all from me – although it did lead to someone telling them to fuck off, I’d sort it myself, and some people – Treadwell actually – told me to sit down before they shot me, and I said if he handled a weapon as badly as he’d handled St Mary’s I was in no danger at all, and then there was a rather nasty silence and a lot of glaring. It was Markham who broke the tension, saying feebly, ‘Could I have some water, please?’
Fortunately, before he could shoot me on the spot and claim his finger had slipped,
please take a moment to reflect that St Mary’s knows exactly where we are and won’t hesitate to come looking for us. Rather in the manner of a large and slightly clumsy mummy bear searching for her offspring in a honey factory, I should imagine.’
‘For God’s sake,’ said Filbert. ‘Someone either reassure this pair of buggers or shoot them.’ A swift glance around the table made it pretty clear which was the more desirable option.
‘I’ll get her out,’ said Markham. He looked at me. ‘I’ll get you out.’
I could hear him behind me. ‘Twelve . . . thirteen . . . fourteen . . .’ Either he was counting to sixty or peeing on the steps. One was considerably more likely than the other.
‘I’ve booked a carrel in the British and European medieval section,’ he said querulously. ‘But I don’t know where that is. It’s for my book on the fate of the Princes in the Tower.
MARKHAM, SIR, I CANNOT WITH YOU.
a piece of paper with ‘Don’t Forget’ written on it but no further clues as to what he wasn’t supposed to forget,
‘It’s definitely here somewhere,’ Markham said, perplexed. ‘Perhaps it’s among my notes.’ ‘Or you’re using it as a bookmark,’ I said helpfully. The guard shot me a look.
I had no idea whether it was alarmed or not. The door, I mean. I know I was.
‘I’m going to do something I’d never dare do if I wasn’t almost certain you were dying.’ I leaned forward and gently kissed his cheek. There was a slight pressure on my hand. ‘God bless . . . Max.’ ‘It’s been an honour and a privilege,’ I said.
Everyone was looking at me rather strangely. Oh God, had I said all that out loud?
‘We are so cool,’ he said. ‘The bees’ knees. The dog’s bollocks. And any other part of an animal’s anatomy you care to name. Have some more beer.’
‘You’re looking for a donkey?’ They nodded. ‘Have you looked around this building recently?’ No one shot me but I suspect it was close.
‘Free will,’ she said vaguely. ‘There are rules.’ ‘What now?’ ‘Nothing. You’ve done everything asked of you, Max. Live your life and be blessed.’
Whenever I’d been in Sick Bay at St Mary’s and requested a discharge, Dr Stone would just smile and ignore me. The Time Police doctor didn’t even bother to smile.
‘You come from the most traffic-laden century of all time. Today there are only about twelve buses in all of London and yet you managed to fall over in front of one of them.’
‘Markham?’ ‘Can keep a secret better than anyone I know.’
The little nods to his heritage sprinkled throughout this book kill me.
‘I am a Hunter, Dr Maxwell. You know what that means. I would be grateful if, in future, you did not recognise me.’ ‘It will give me enormous pleasure not to recognise you at any time, Commander Treadwell.’
I looked at the floor. ‘Hey.’ I looked up and he put his arms around me. ‘You take care.’ ‘You too.’ ‘We’ll see each other soon,’ he said.
It was as if neither of us wanted to let the other go. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Eventually he said, ‘See you around, Max,’ and pulled himself away. He hit the door control and a second later he was gone.
‘I was hit by a bus,’ I said proudly. ‘If you play your cards right, I’ll show you my road rash.
He seated himself at his desk and regarded me severely. ‘A donkey, Dr Maxwell?’ Shit.
‘And not just any old donkey,’ I said, because it’s important to sell this sort of thing properly. ‘An Ancient Egyptian donkey.’ ‘How does that help?’ ‘A living, breathing piece of Egyptian History.’
‘Strangely, Dr Maxwell, when I think of Egyptian History, it’s rather more pyramids . . .’ ‘We couldn’t get them in the pod.’ Seamlessly, he adjusted his argument. ‘. . . more canopic jars and shabti, and rather less scruffy donkey.’
‘One would be happy to forward them the donkey.’ ‘The Ancient Egyptian donkey. With dust from the actual tomb of Amenhotep II still on his little hooves.’
He limped into the room. ‘Good morning, sir.’ Dr Bairstow blinked. ‘You are injured, Mr Markham?’ ‘No, no, everything’s fine. Can I ask you to avert your eyes, please?’ I’d already averted mine. There are some things with which the human eye cannot cope.
Not so Dr Bairstow, who didn’t avert anything like quickly enough and was left with no choice other than to stare in fascinated horror as Markham pulled the legendary Durendal from the front of his trousers. Before anyone faints, Durendal is the famous sword of Roland and not, definitely not, whatever you might have been imagining. Shame on you.
‘I think I might go and stare at a wall for a while. She’s bright, Max. A very bright child.’
She looked up at me. ‘She said I could be Helen.’ I stopped dead. ‘Helen?’ ‘Yes. It’s nice. Do you like it?’ ‘Who said you could be Helen?’ ‘The cigarette lady.’ We’d reached the door and I couldn’t remember how it worked. ‘The cigarette lady?’ She nodded vigorously and opened the door for me. ‘You’ve seen this . . . cigarette lady?’ She nodded again. ‘She sits in the window. She said I could be called Helen.’
‘Mm,’ I said carefully. ‘Did she . . . Did she say anything else?’ ‘Yes. She’s very cross with you.’
‘This is going to be fun. Promise me you won’t behave yourself.’
‘I’m afraid none of that will be possible. It is the resources of this country that have enabled you to operate. There is no question of you taking equipment and expertise – which this country could ill afford – to benefit another. We couldn’t possibly run the risk of all this . . .’ he gestured around, ‘falling into the hands of someone who does not regard this country as a friend.’ ‘Well, that certainly narrows our field of opportunity,’ murmured Peterson. ‘I’m trying to think of any country anywhere whom our government hasn’t upset, offended or insulted over the past century or so.’ He
...more
‘And the former director, Roderick Halcombe?’ ‘Who?’ I said blankly. ‘Malcolm Halcombe,’ said Markham. ‘Leprosy, remember?’ Daniels sat up in a hurry. ‘You gave him leprosy?’ ‘We treated him for leprosy,’ said Markham. ‘He didn’t actually have it.’ ‘Then why was he treated?’ ‘He insisted. He was convinced he was leprotic.’ ‘Is that a word?’ I said, curious.
‘You survived and she did not.’ ‘Well, no, she’d been shot. All I did was hit a tree and break some bones.’ ‘Quite boring, really,’ murmured Markham.
‘Much though it pains me to admit it – and it does pain me greatly – this bunch of stumbling basket cases – or St Mary’s, as I suppose I should refer to them – are necessary to the safety and well-being of all.’
‘Be that as it may, there is still the issue of the man Markham, here . . .’ I grinned at the man Markham, who grinned back again, apparently completely unconcerned.
Mr Markham’s actions, of course, were ably assisted by Dr Maxwell.’ Actually, I rather felt he’d got that the wrong way round but now was probably not the time to argue my point.
‘Nevertheless, because of who this person is . . .’ Oh, for heaven’s sake. I opened my mouth, but Treadwell got there first. ‘I think, sir, the only person in any danger of forgetting who Mr Markham is – is you. Allow me to refresh your memory. Do you have an interest in history at all, sir?
‘The point Commander Treadwell is making too difficult for you to understand is that my ex-colleague comes from vicious, ruthless and bloody stock, accustomed to doing whatever is necessary to achieve their own sinister ends without a single pang of conscience.’ Markham twisted in his chair. ‘How is this helping?’
‘Your point . . . er . . . Miss . . . ?’ I saw Markham, Peterson and even Dr Bairstow open their mouths but it was Treadwell who got there first. ‘That’s Dr Maxwell, Mr Daniels.’
‘Let me make things much easier for you, Mr . . . um . . . I take it you’re not familiar with Margaret of Anjou?’ ‘Of course not.’ You see – this is what happens when History comes off the curriculum. You get a country run by idiots.
‘There was an agreement . . . no issue.’ ‘Yeah,’ said Markham. ‘Sorry about that, but we were slightly overcome by the moment.’ He paused meaningfully. ‘You know how things can be.’
No one actually said pot, kettle, black, but the words hung above his head for all to see.
And Markham? Markham had twisted in his seat and was looking at me. He spoke very quietly. ‘Do you and I need to have a conversation, Max?’
