‘Asleep in an outhouse,’ said Evans. ‘And there was a gardener, as well.’
‘Tell me he’s asleep, too.’
‘Well, not really. He was a tiny little man – built like a leaf – I was scared I’d break him, so I just sat him down on a sack of something and left him there.’
‘Didn’t you threaten him at all?’
‘Of course I did, but he folded his arms and said did I know he was a gardener and like gardeners everywhere, he’d inhaled so many substances over the years – recreational and professional, intended and unintended – that he reckoned he could withstand anything I could throw at him and to bring it on, buster. He seemed quite disappointed when I just left him sitting there.’
They secured the building behind them. Using Mr Desai’s keys, Evans locked the front door and readjusted the already crooked notice for maximum impact.
There had been vigorous debate as to whether E. coli or salmonella was the more dangerous, and since a consensus could not be reached, St Mary’s, ever flexible, had gone with both. The extremely official-looking notice informed anyone seeking access that the twin scourges of salmonella and E. coli were currently sweeping through the premises known as the King’s Arsenal, which was now closed for the foreseeable future. Anyone who had visited the aforementioned premises over the last three days was advised to seek immediate medical advice. While they still could.
‘The skull and crossbones are a particularly nice touch,’ said Markham approvingly and Dr Dowson beamed.
‘Off to TPHQ, I think,’ said Max, setting off towards their pod.
Leon took her arm. ‘We need to disappear, Max.’
‘Why?’
‘Because if Hay finds out Matthew’s called in St Mary’s, then the kid’s finished.’
‘But suppose our intervention saves the day?’
‘I think that would make it even worse.’
‘But he did the right thing, Leon.’
‘I don’t think that would help his case in even the smallest way. We need to step back and let him get on with it.’
‘You think she’ll throw him out?’
‘He went behind her back. To St Mary’s. Of course she’ll throw him out. After he’s done some time. Hard time, if she has anything to do with it.’
She shook her head. ‘Just a moment.’
Matthew was talking to Mikey. Max gently touched his arm. ‘Hey, got a minute?’
They moved a little way off and sat on a low wall overlooking the river.
‘Matthew, how much trouble are you in over this?’
He shuffled his feet. ‘I suspect quite a lot.’
‘All right. Hear me out before you say anything.’
‘I know what you’re going to say, Mum.’
‘I’m going to say it anyway. You don’t have to go back to TPHQ. You can jump with us. St Mary’s will protect you. Why deliberately return to a world full of trouble? You’re valued at St Mary’s. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not. You don’t have to get your hair cut because some pillock thinks it’s conducive to efficiency. Look at Grint. If his hair was any shorter, he’d be bald, and he’s the thickest person in the Time Police. And trust me, there’s a lot of competition for that slot. Look, if you want to work on the Time Map, then I’m sure you and Professor Rapson and Miss Lingoss can come up with something bigger and better than we’ve got at St Mary’s. And it would be your project – not following in someone else’s footsteps. And,’ she paused significantly, ‘Mikey’s at St Mary’s.’
She stopped speaking and stared fiercely out over the river, much in the way Knut might have tried to subdue the waves.
Matthew sat very still for a moment and then took her hand. ‘Mum . . .’
‘You told me yourself you can leave any time during your training. There wouldn’t be any loss of face. You can say you tried it and it wasn’t for you. No one will blame you.’
‘Mum . . . I’d blame me.’ He looked down at her hand. ‘This isn’t easy for me and I’ll use the wrong words and I don’t want to hurt you. Or Dad, but mostly you. I want to do this because it’s something I can make my own. It’s not something that St Mary’s has handed me. And you can’t stop me, Mum. You mustn’t. You went out into the world and found somewhere you belonged. You carved yourself a place in it. You shaped your world to suit you. It wasn’t easy but you always say if something’s not difficult then it’s not worth doing. You never accept help from anyone and I thought you would understand that I want to do the same. At St Mary’s, I’m always your son. Your influence is everywhere. No, don’t cry, please. I just want something of my own that I made for myself. And I have to earn Mikey. I’m not a little boy any more. I’m growing up and I want to have something to present to her. I want to say, “I’m Matthew Farrell and this is what I’ve done. This is what I’ve made. This is what I stand for.”’ He swallowed. ‘I want to be awesome. Like my mum.’
Chief Farrell approached. ‘Time to make ourselves scarce, I think.’ He looked at Max, who was still staring into the distance and then back at Matthew. ‘You know what you’re doing?’
‘Not a clue, Dad.’
He sighed. ‘You two are so alike.’
Max stood up, keeping her face averted. ‘I’ll get them all back to the pod, Leon.’ She clapped Matthew on the arm. ‘Good luck. Give Grint a good kicking from me if you get the chance.’
She walked quickly away.
Leon looked down at Matthew. ‘Everything OK?’
He nodded. ‘Absolutely fine, Dad.’
35
Reporting the results of his recent adventure at the King’s Arsenal to Major Ellis, however unpleasant, was the easy bit. Being marched in to Commander Hay for a second time was much, much worse.
She said nothing for a very long time.
He waited. Captain Farenden waited. Major Ellis waited.
As the silence lengthened, it slowly dawned on Matthew that this was going to be even worse than he had anticipated. Slowly, his excitement and elation at what he’d discovered ebbed away, leaving a nasty cold sensation in the pit of his stomach.
Eventually, she picked up a file and, for no good reason that he could see, moved it to the other side of her desk and stared at it. Surprisingly quietly, she said, ‘You went over my head.’
Matthew’s insides slid south. He nodded.