‘You’re speaking of my offer of intel. Information. Names. Places. Details of how they were approached and by whom.’
‘Yes. Such information could be very valuable to us. However, you must understand – I don’t want to be accused of misleading you – no matter how helpful Miss Farnborough is – or isn’t – there will be a prosecution. There will be a prison sentence. I’m sorry, but we cannot be seen to display favouritism. Especially to a high-ranking member of the government. If such a thing ever came out it would cost me my job, you would lose yours as well and there would be a prison sentence for both of us. And Imogen. So, I will ask you now – is this a deal-breaker for you?’
‘Not at all. Imogen out of circulation for a while might not be a bad thing. A short, sharp shock will do her no harm. She must learn to accept the consequences of her actions.’
Commander Hay chose not to mention that Imogen’s shock might be less short and more sharp than her mother envisaged. ‘I can despatch a team . . .’
‘When?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘But why the delay? You have the coordinates. You could go now.’
‘This is a time-travelling organisation. It doesn’t matter when we leave – it’s when we arrive that’s important. We could leave next year and still arrive at exactly the right Time and place.’
‘Oh. I see. Foolish of me.’
‘Not at all. It takes some time to get one’s head around it. Do you have any details at all of the organisation that took her there?’
She said with some difficulty, ‘No. Imogen and I do not converse daily.’
‘No notes left behind? Any irregularities with her bank statement?’
‘Imogen’s bank statement is full of irregularities, but I know what you mean and no.’
‘Did you have any idea? Any idea at all?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Then neither you nor Imogen put up any part of the not inconsiderable sum of money required?’
‘No. And you’re right – it wasn’t cheap. Imogen couldn’t possibly have afforded it on her allowance, generous though it is.’
Commander Hay regarded the folded piece of paper still on her desk. ‘And you want us to bring her back?’
‘Of course I do.’
There was a long silence. Eventually, Mrs Farnborough said, ‘So what will happen now?’
‘I’ll send a team. As I said.’
‘No, I mean, how will they get her back? What will they do?’
Commander Hay smiled. ‘Whatever it takes.’
Returning to Commander Hay’s office, Captain Farenden reported he had escorted Mrs Farnborough off the premises.
‘Did she say anything?’
‘Nothing, ma’am. Apart from goodbye.’
‘Charlie, ask Major Ellis if he can spare me a moment, will you?’
Ten minutes later Major Ellis was standing in front of her. ‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’
‘Good afternoon, Major. Something a little different for your team today.’
Catching a glimpse of Captain Farenden’s grin, Major Ellis said neutrally, ‘Oh?’
‘Yes. A task requiring tact and diplomacy and when that fails – as I’m sure it will – brute force and ignorance.’
Bristling slightly at this unflattering description of his team’s abilities, Major Ellis enquired whether, whatever the mission was, might not a clean-up team be more appropriate?
‘Yes, if I wanted an almighty temporal and political scandal. Clean-up crews are not noted for their tact and diplomacy.’
Major Ellis listened with growing disquiet as she outlined the situation and concluded by handing him a piece of paper. ‘You should find the appropriate coordinates on this, Major. Other than that, there’s nothing more I can tell you. The situation will be fluid in the extreme. There are two possible scenarios: either the young woman has fared badly during her time there and cooperates fully in her rescue, or . . .’
‘Or she fights us every inch of the way.’
‘I hesitate to contradict you, Major, but your use of the word “us” is inappropriate. You are still on light duties. Your team must manage without you.’
‘Ma’am . . .’
‘No, Major.’ She gestured at his arm, still strapped up.
‘Then perhaps, ma’am, my original suggestion of a clean-up team . . .’
‘The young woman involved is the daughter of a high-ranking government minister.’
If Major Ellis groaned, he had the sense not to do so aloud.
‘Even more importantly, it’s the 17th century and not that long since the Restoration. Charles II is still not secure on his throne and there’s enormous anti-Catholic feeling throughout the country. The last thing we need is some entitled little baggage destabilising the situation and plunging the country into such chaos that, when the Dutch attempt to invade, the only force the English will be able to muster will be two old women with a skillet and a pack of geese.’
‘Gaggle, ma’am.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Gaggle. A pack of geese is a gaggle.’
There was an un-encouraging silence.
‘Or,’ said Major Ellis, avoiding Captain Farenden’s innocent gaze and swiftly recovering lost ground, ‘I believe, pack is a perfectly acceptable alternative.’
Commander Hay nodded. ‘And while I have no time for politicians, having them on our side is marginally safer than having them against us. Which we will if anything happens to Imogen Farnborough. Personally, I always feel we’d probably be better off with the geese in charge but someone has to round up the country’s idiots and put them somewhere they can’t do any harm and so we invented Parliament.’
‘But my team, ma’am? A man down, not yet qualified, and I’m unable to accompany them.’
‘They’ve always been a man down – I don’t count Smith’s short and ineffective stint. And your team do things differently.’
‘But . . .’
‘And you’re still here, Major.’
Major Ellis took the hint. ‘Not any longer, ma’am.’
2
‘Good morning,’ said Jane, seating herself alongside Matthew and opposite Luke. ‘Pass the marmalade, please.’