‘Parrish, I swear I’ll have your balls for this.’
‘Will you stop and take a look at yourself. What good have you ever done in this world? What good have you ever achieved?’
‘Well, for a start, no one’s ever died because of me. How’s Orduroy Tannhauser these days? Shall we ask him? Oh, no, wait – we can’t, can we?’
Everything went very quiet and then Luke said, ‘Imogen, for two pins I’d give you the good hiding you so richly deserve.’
‘Yeah? You tried that once before, remember? How did that work out for you?’
‘I tripped,’ he said with dignity.
‘Yeah – over my left hook. Face it, Parrish – you’re the useless one here. You live off someone else’s money just like me. What are you good for? Absolutely nothing and . . .’
Luke clamped his hand across her face again, counted to ten and then took it away.
‘. . . arrogant, conceited, self-important . . .’
‘Shut up, Immy.’
She ignored him. She doesn’t even pause for breath, thought Jane in admiration, stowing away the colourful phrase colossal arsehat for future use.
‘Wow,’ said Matthew to Luke. ‘You really do have a way with women, don’t you? I can’t believe Ellis thought having you along would actually help our case.’
‘Narcissistic, shallow, self-absorbed . . .’
‘Immy . . .’
‘Shit-for-brains pretty boy.’
Jane judged it time to intervene. Inserting herself between them, she said, ‘For God’s sake, both of you, keep your voices down.’
‘I am not going anywhere with Luke Parrish,’ said Imogen furiously. ‘Why are you people so stupid? I’m staying here. It’s my choice. It’s my life and my . . .’
Jane checked her sonic was on minimum and fired.
Imogen sagged against a shaky-looking building, which did it no good at all, and then fell to the ground.
A relieved silence fell.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jane, making her sonic safe and stowing it away, ‘but she really was beginning to get on my nerves.’
Luke scowled. ‘You’re a nicer person than me, Jane. I was all ready to brain her with the nearest rock.’
‘How long were the two of you together?’ enquired Matthew.
‘Nearly two months.’
‘I’m surprised central London is still standing.’
‘To be fair,’ said Luke. ‘There were compensations.’
‘There must have been,’ said Jane. ‘And no, we don’t want to know what they were.’
They stood around Imogen, who was lying on the ground and effortlessly soaking up the puddle of dirty water in which she was lying.
Luke looked down at her. ‘There’s going to be hell on when she wakes up. Can we get her delivered to security first? Let them bear the brunt.’ He stirred her with his foot.
Jane touched his arm. ‘Luke . . . don’t do that. She has a tough time ahead of her.’
Luke laughed mirthlessly. ‘Jane, your faith in the system is inspiring but misplaced. Imogen’s absolutely right. She won’t go to prison. Trust me. Her mother, Hay and a couple of others will do a deal and she’ll get off scot-free. People like her – people like us,’ he said with a sudden flash of insight, ‘always do.’
‘Can we at least get her back to the pod and try to clean her up a bit?’
Matthew glanced at his leader. ‘Clean us all up a bit.’
Luke sighed. ‘Jane, you lead the way. Matthew, you watch our backs. And once again, I’ll carry madam.’
7
Ducking, dodging and diving, they made their way through the labyrinth of dark foetid lanes surrounding the Theatre Royal. Around them, the streets of London teemed with life. As did some of the citizens of London. Jane dreaded to think what particular forms of life were making the evolutionary leap from 17th-century citizen to modern Time Police officer.
Filth covered every surface. Soot, grime, grease, human and animal excrement. Jane could not, for one moment, imagine why Imogen would want to live here.
They passed a butcher’s shop where dark meat with an ominous green sheen offered a home to every fly in London.
A metalworker hammered away at an old kettle, sparks flying perilously close to a heap of old straw currently being used partly as packing material by a potter’s apprentice and partly as lunch by an aged horse.
A dog cocked his leg against a basket of vegetables set down for a moment by a gossiping woman. Apparently unnoticing, she picked it up and sauntered away. Given the lack of clean water, Jane wondered whether washing them would prove more or less risky.
Someone collided with her and passed on without even noticing. There were people everywhere. Continually fighting her way through a solid mass of humanity was exhausting. Between the crush, the smell and Jane’s own fatigue, she couldn’t wait to get back to the pod. Looking down at her stained uniform, she realised a large part of the stink probably emanated from herself.
Imogen stirred several times, making faint mewing signs of protest.
Luke told her to keep quiet. ‘We’re taking you to safety, but I warn you now – give me any more grief and I’ll drop you where we stand and go home and tell everyone we couldn’t find you.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Scream and let’s find out.’
‘Can we pick up the pace,’ said Matthew. ‘There are people following us.’
Luke felt Imogen stiffen.
‘I think it’s those men again,’ whispered Jane. ‘We should try and lose them before we get back to the pod.’
‘In here,’ said Luke, drawing back into a recessed doorway. As Jane and Matthew crowded in after him, the door behind them gave way and swung inwards and with a shout of surprise, Luke and Imogen disappeared from view.
Jane and Matthew could hear the clatter of two people falling down a flight of wooden steps together with the language appropriate to two people falling down the same flight of wooden steps.
Matthew winced. ‘Ouch. That had to hurt. He’s really not having a good day, is he?’
Imogen’s voice drifted up from the gloom. ‘For fire truck’s sake, Parrish – are you trying to kill me?’
‘No trying about it, Immy. I am so bloody sick of today. Someone remind me again why I’m here.’