No Time Like the Past (22 page)

Leon opened the batting. He had to. I’d forgotten how to speak.

‘Sir, Dr Maxwell and I are to be married.’

I wouldn’t have put it that bluntly myself. Actually, I’d have sent him an email. From Venezuela. I braced myself. He put down his pen and regarded us with some amusement. ‘Who asked whom, I wonder?’

Since Peterson, Prentiss, Sands, Clerk, and Roberts had promised to take that particular piece of information to the grave, we declined to comment.

Leon said carefully, ‘If you feel this course of action is inappropriate, then we will, with huge regret, tender our resignations.’

‘I’m not sure such a sacrifice will be necessary for any of us, especially given our current perilous staffing levels. I do insist, however, that as senior officers, you continue to live on campus. Is this likely to be a problem?’

‘Not for us, sir.’

‘Then I shall give some thought to your accommodation arrangements.’

The door opened behind us and Mrs Partridge entered bearing not the traditional tea tray, but champagne and glasses.

How does she know these things?

He stood up. ‘I hope you will allow me to offer my congratulations and best wishes to you both.’

We drank a toast.

‘Well,’ said Dr Bairstow, accepting a refill, ‘that accounts for the bewilderingly large sums of money being distributed around the building. I understand Messrs Markham and Roberts are boasting they have enough to retire on.’

We all smiled politely at the joke and I thought thoughts that would not only considerably shorten the lifespan of Messrs Markham and Roberts, but bypass the need for a retirement fund altogether.

Chapter Sixteen

I packed up my meagre possessions and moved into Peterson’s office. Since it was just down the corridor, this took about ten minutes.

I’d said goodbye to Rosie Lee.

‘You’ll only be next door,’ she said. ‘It’s not Antarctica.’

‘Bet you’ll miss me.’

‘All bosses are interchangeable. The only difference is how they like their tea.’

‘Since you’ve never made me a cup of tea in your life, how would you know that?’

She informed me that since she’d been overwhelmed by her massive workload from the moment she walked through the door, it was hard to see when she would have found the time to pander to my insatiable desire for the stuff.

I advised her that my abnormal needs were as nothing compared with those of Dr Peterson.

She asked if I was still talking about tea and I left before I dotted her one with her own keyboard.

There was good and bad in this new job.

Peterson’s office – no, my office now – had a great view of the lake – good.

It was nearer to Dr Bairstow – bad.

Which meant it was also nearer to Mrs Partridge – even worse.

However, it was further from R & D and the greater the distance from the blast zone, the greater the chances of survival – good.

I’d left Rosie Lee behind – good.

And I’d gained Mrs Shaw – best of all.

She welcomed me with tea and a plate of cakes. Peterson was probably welcomed with a blizzard of paperwork to sign, the pious hope that he would be of a higher standard than her last boss, and a request for three weeks’ leave. Starting now.

‘Thank you, Mrs Shaw. You do know I may never leave this office again?’

She smiled at me. She was considerably older than Miss Lee, with wavy grey hair and blue eyes. She bustled around the place, round-faced, plump; a quietly spoken grandmother whose only time off was to visit her grandchildren occasionally.

‘What do they think you do?’

‘Oh, they think I potter about in my little job, or do my knitting, or work in my garden. I always make sure I lose my spectacles whenever I stay with them, just to reinforce the stereotype.’ Her eyes twinkled.

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Almost since the beginning.’

‘Did Dr Bairstow recruit you?’

‘No, he recruited Mavis – Mrs Enderby – and she recommended me.’

I was surprised. ‘Had you known her long?’

‘We were in the same underground unit.’

‘You fought? Like Mrs Mack? Did you know her, as well?’

‘I was only on the front line at the end. When things went bad. Mostly I worked in code breaking and Mavis was in logistics. We didn’t know Theresa Mack personally. We knew of her, of course. Especially when the Fascists were forced out of Cardiff. They all poured across the Severn and Mavis and I were in Gloucester at the time. We stood behind the barricades in Westgate, but they were too strong for us. We fell back to the cathedral and made our final stand in College Green. We turned them back, they ran, and it all ended three weeks later at the Battersea Barricades.’

I looked at the quiet, motherly little figure in front of me and reflected, not for the first time, that appearances can be very deceptive.

‘And then, you all fought together again at St Mary’s, last year.’

She hesitated. ‘Except for Miss Lee, of course.’

There was something there, but the phone rang at that moment and I forgot it.

I unpacked my few things, wandered around my new office, got my bearings, sat down at my new desk, fired up the data table, and made a start. It was years since I’d been a trainee and the training procedures hadn’t changed much since my day. Now I’d had the go-ahead from the Boss, I intended to ditch the existing programme. I would scrap the whole lot and start again with new ideas and new ways of doing things. Best of all, if I spent my time on this then I wouldn’t have to think about the other new and frightening part of my life.

I called up the schedule of upcoming assignments and started sifting through them – looking for the easy stuff – something that wouldn’t get trainees killed as soon as they stuck their heads out of the pod.

Mrs Shaw printed out individual assignments for me and I was laying them out on my meetings table when Peterson stuck his head round the door.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’

‘Do bears shit in the woods?’

We settled ourselves in a quiet corner of the bar and clinked glasses.

‘Your very good health, Max.’

‘Thank you. Yours too.’

He sat back, sighed, and stretched out his long legs, resting his feet on the coffee table in front of us. He had something to say. I recognised the signs. I sipped my Margarita, sucked the salt off my bottom lip, and waited. Either for him to speak or the room to blur, whichever came first.

‘So, Dr Bairstow let you live about this marriage thing?’

‘Yes. He seemed amused but calm.’

‘I never thought you’d be the first to marry.’

‘I never thought I’d marry at all.’

‘Will you live away from St Mary’s?’

‘No. We’re to have two adjoining rooms on the west landing. There’s a connecting door. Either we have a room each or one’s a bedroom and the other a sitting room. I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘When’s the ceremony?’

‘Not sure. Soon, I expect.’

‘Where’s it to be?’

‘Um …’

‘Do you have a dress yet?’

‘I think I have several.’

‘I mean a wedding dress.’

‘Not just at the moment.’

He stared at me in exasperation.

I stared back. ‘What?’

‘Weddings don’t just organise themselves, you know.’

‘I don’t see why not. We don’t want anything elaborate.’

‘Let me guess. A short ceremony – somewhere – followed by a drink in the bar and then everyone back to work?’

Some instinct warned me not to utter, ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Why is this so important?’

‘Max, it’s your wedding.’

I stared at him. ‘This is Kal, isn’t it? Kal and Helen have put you up to this. And don’t sit there looking pathetic and sorry for yourself because that won’t save you. If you choose to hang out with the two most terrifying women in the universe then that’s your problem.’

‘Three.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ He gestured for two more drinks. ‘Have you actually given this any sort of thought at all?

‘Well …’

‘I mean, where will the actual ceremony take place? Church? Register Office? Swanky hotel?’

‘I do know Leon wants a religious ceremony,’ I said, glad to be able to report something positive. ‘It means a lot to him and I don’t mind, so …’

I tailed off.

‘Have you even thought about what you’ll wear?’

‘Um …’

‘Max!’

‘Well, not one of those enormous, white puffy dresses, obviously.’

‘God, no,’ he said. ‘You’d look ridiculous, but what about flowers? And the reception?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, miserably. ‘How can anything be so complicated and at the same time so unimportant?’

‘Max, you’ve planned multi-part assignments which have spread over centuries. Millennia, even. Why is planning one small wedding throwing you into such turmoil?’

‘I don’t know. I always think a wedding is a bit like dying, don’t you?’

‘No,’ he said, carefully. ‘No, I don’t think that thought has ever occurred to me.’

‘Well, it is. It’s unpleasant, messy, and complicated, but it’s something you have to go through to find out what happens next. It would be nice if I could just wake up and find marriage had happened overnight. While I was asleep.’

‘Have you discussed this with Leon?’

‘Oh, no. He’d think I don’t want to go through with it and that’s not true at all. I just wish it was all over with.’

‘Look,’ he said. ‘You need to get to grips with this. Have the ceremony here – if the Boss doesn’t object and why should he? – It would be rather nice to be filing into the chapel for something a bit more cheerful than the usual memorial services. Although possibly not for you, of course. Honestly, Max, the way you’re carrying on, you’d think it was one of those medieval trials by ordeal.’

‘Well, it is a bit, isn’t it? It’s a bit like Earl Godwin being accused of murdering the King’s brother and saying, “If I am guilty then let this bread choke me”, and he took a bite and it choked him and he died.’

He stared at me. ‘No it’s not. It’s nothing like that at all. Will you pull yourself together? I’ve never seen you so all over the place and remember I once saw you chased by a T-Rex.’

I nodded and chugged back the rest of my drink.

He signalled for another refill.

‘Right. List of things to do. Sort out the venue. Speak to Mrs Mack about the catering. I think she’d be delighted to prepare something other than Toad in the Hole or Spotted Dick. Talk to Mrs Enderby who knows clothes better than anyone does. I bet you any money she has half a dozen designs tucked away all ready for you. Don’t worry about flowers because Mr Strong will help you out there. Don’t worry about invites – I’m assuming you don’t have any family to invite?’

‘God, no.’

‘Tell people they can wear what they please. The men will wear their uniforms because it’s the easy option and the girls will probably wear long dresses because they don’t get the chance to dress up very often. Don’t worry about seating plans and things. When have you ever known St Mary’s experience difficulty sitting down for a meal? And that’s pretty well it. Sorted.’

‘I’m impressed. And I don’t have to do a wedding list because we don’t want any presents.’

‘Ah yes, that reminds me of the second part of my mission.’

‘What mission?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, soothingly. ‘No mission at all. Allow me to ply you with more alcohol.’

‘Are you plying? I hadn’t noticed.’

‘You’re on your third Margarita and wouldn’t notice if Markham and Roberts performed the handkerchief dance, naked, on the coffee table in front of you.’

‘No. There aren’t enough Margaritas in the world for me to miss that. What do you want?’

‘Look, this may be the alcohol talking …’

‘That’s all right. It’s certainly the alcohol listening … What do you want?’

‘You.’

I frowned. ‘Flattering, but I’m spoken for. Haven’t we just been discussing the preliminaries to making it official?’

‘No, idiot, I’m here to discuss my gift to you.’

‘Tim, there’s no need. I don’t want …’

‘Thermopylae.’

‘… to miss that. Are you serious? How did you swing that?’

‘You gave up your jump so that we could sort out Markham’s ghost so it’s only fair. Consider it St Mary’s gift to you.’

‘And Dr Bairstow said yes? What about my knee?’

‘Dr Foster says no running, no jumping, no kneeling – you know the sort of thing. However, so long as you just sit on a rock and record, there shouldn’t be a problem.’

‘Wow!’ A thought struck me. I should be thinking for two now. ‘What about Leon?’

‘He’s not coming.’

‘No, I mean what about Leon’s gift?’

‘Oh, I believe he’s getting a new screwdriver.’

‘What?’

‘Well, some sort of special piece of kit he’s been after for some time. The techies are over the moon about it. You do know that if you change your mind the entire Technical Section will kidnap you and forcibly marry you to Leon – like it or not.’

Which reminded me again of this wedding hanging over me like the Sword of Damocles.

‘I’m being got rid of, aren’t I?’

He looked shifty.

‘What’s going on?’

He said nothing.

‘Oh my God, Kal’s coming to organise things, isn’t she? Isn’t she?’

‘Cheer up,’ he said, thrusting another Margarita my way. ‘It’s all academic anyway. You probably won’t make it through Thermopylae. Just think about it – being killed by your own wedding present. How bizarre would that be? Even for you.’

‘Cheers, Tim.

Leon had clearly announced he would be wearing his uniform and anyone who so wished could do the same. Lucky devil. All he had to do was have a haircut, not cut himself shaving that morning, and he was done. My preparations, alas, were somewhat more complex. And, as I kept pointing out to an uncaring world, I had my Botticelli report to write, my Thermopylae assignment to prepare for, a whole new training schedule to create, to say nothing of daily and exhausting physiotherapy which, yes, I was going to get around to any day now.

It all fell on stony ground but despite Tim’s motivational speech, I just couldn’t get any enthusiasm going at all and then Kal arrived from Thirsk and set about organising the universe back into line.

I fled to Thermopylae.