Luke was able to reassure Jane afterwards that she did, in fact, remember to say thank you.
‘Trainee Parrish.’
Luke stepped forwards and grinned down at his commander. No words were exchanged but he was given to understand, very clearly, that if medals were still pinned instead of fastened, then his would almost certainly have been skewered to his still-beating heart.
‘Congratulations, Trainee Parrish.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’ He squinted down at his chest. ‘Who’d have thought?’
‘Who indeed? Love the glove.’
‘I’d like to be known as Cool Hand Luke in future, ma’am.’
‘Get back in line, Parrish.’
Up on the walkway the applauding crowd shifted to reveal a solitary man standing slightly apart. His face expressionless, Raymond Parrish watched his son receive his medal. His hands gripped the railing tightly, turning his knuckles white. As Luke stepped back into line, his father cast one last look down into the atrium and then turned away. The crowd closed behind him and he vanished from view.
NEARLY THE END
Epilogue
Sometime later, an almost completely healed Captain Farenden gathered his briefing notes together and entered Commander Hay’s office for their morning meeting. The signs were not good. She was sitting back in her chair, arms folded and scowling at her paper knife. Obviously, the failure to identify, far less arrest, those in charge of Site X still rankled. Mentally discarding most of the morning’s business, he carefully pulled out a file, waited a moment or two and then coughed.
‘Good God, Charlie, don’t do that.’
‘Sorry, ma’am.’
‘Had you been there long?’
‘Quite a long time, ma’am.’
‘Why the hell didn’t you cough or something?’
‘I believe I did.’
She eyed him for a moment and then said with enormous patience, ‘Are you here for a reason or just to frighten the shit out of your commanding officer?’
He passed over the file.
‘What’s this?’
‘Mrs Chubb.’
‘Who?’
‘Mrs Chubb. To be precise, Mrs Cherry Chubb.’
She stared at him. ‘What?’
‘Mrs Cherry Chubb of Acacia Road, Chorley, Cheltenham, has reported a Time Vortex in her fridge.’
‘In her fridge?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And this has manifested itself – how?’
‘Every time Mrs Chubb opens the door, the interior of the fridge is filled with a cacophonous wailing and the tentacles of dread Cthulhu try to drag her into the clutches of the deadly Time Vortex.’
‘How old is Mrs Chubb?’
‘Quite old, ma’am.’
‘And presumably up to date on her medication.’
‘I have no information on that score, ma’am.’
‘And Mr Chubb?’
‘Sadly, Mr Chubb is no longer in this world.’
‘Ha! Fell a victim to dread Cthulhu, did he?’
‘Number fourteen bus, ma’am.’
‘He was run over?’
‘He fell down the stairs. After a possibly too convivial night celebrating his team’s success in some sporting event.’
‘Hm. Returning to Mrs Chubb.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And her Time Vortex.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Did we take any action?’
‘We did indeed, ma’am. Lt Grint and one other were despatched to investigate.’
‘And?’
‘Events proceeded, ma’am.’
He paused.
After a while, she said, ‘Am I to know in which direction they proceeded?’
‘Not quite in the direction expected. However, all’s well that ends well. Sleeping dogs and all that. Now, if I could bring the senior officer rota to your attention . . .’
‘Stuff the senior officer rota.’
‘Ma’am.’
‘Are you hiding something from me?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.’
‘Don’t make me come over there, Charlie.’
‘Heaven forbid, ma’am. Well, perhaps if I tell you the A.N. Other officer despatched along with Lt Grint was Trainee Lockland, you will begin to perceive just the faintest glimmer . . .’
She put her head in her hands. ‘Oh God.’
‘No, no, ma’am.’
‘Just tell me, Charlie.’
‘Well, Lt Grint and Trainee Lockland were despatched to investigate this really not very likely claim.’
‘Before we go any further, and to avoid wear and tear on your commanding officer – was there a Time Vortex in this lady’s fridge?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ She poked the file on her desk. ‘So why am I looking at what appears to be a sixty-page report on Mrs Chubb’s apparently perfectly normal fridge?’
‘It was the aftermath, ma’am.’
‘Oh God. If ever a word was a harbinger of doom, it’s aftermath.’
‘There’s another one, ma’am.’
‘Another what?’
‘Word, ma’am.’
‘What?’
‘Harbinger.’
‘You have two seconds, Charlie, before I reach for my paper knife.’
‘Moving swiftly along, ma’am. Our officers arrived at Thirty-Four Acacia Avenue, Chorley, Cheltenham at 0900 hours.’
‘That’s Mrs Cherry Chubb of Chorley, Cheltenham, Charlie?’
‘Exactly, ma’am. Obtaining access to the premises, they entered the lady’s kitchen to investigate the contents of her fridge.’
He stopped.
‘And . . . ?’
‘There weren’t any.’
‘There weren’t any tentacles belonging to dread Cthulhu?’
‘Any contents, ma’am. At all.’