Jane pulled herself up because this was irrelevant speculation. There was another side to the story. There was always another side and the truth usually lay somewhere between the two. That was what St Mary’s always claimed to be about – discovering the truth. As well as buggering up the timeline and making life difficult for honest, hard-working Time Police officers, of course.
How misunderstood was Marie Antoinette? These beautiful surroundings were her refuge from the oppressive ceremony of the French court, where she never had even a moment to herself. Where everyone was out for what they could get and viewed the queen as a shortcut to getting it. Where every word must be carefully analysed for hidden meanings. Where every smile was false and they all watched her like hawks, waiting for the tiniest error – something that would give them personal leverage in the never-ending and often deadly game of court intrigue. How exhausting must that be?
Here, at the Petit Trianon, Marie Antoinette herself was in control. This was where she could relax. Only a few of her closest friends were ever allowed in. Here was where she led, what was to her, a simple life. To outsiders, however, this must seem like the rich playing at being poor. That their queen was deliberately mocking them.
She wasn’t relaxed now. Despite the tranquillity of her rural surroundings, Jane could see she was obviously in an agitated state. She paced. She wrung her hands. Every now and then she would stop and anxiously scan the meadow around her. Was she waiting for news? Or was something about to happen?
Jane drew back behind a convenient tree and consulted her notebook. On 5th October 1789, the mob came to arrest the king and queen and any members of the court they could find, to take them to the Tuileries Palace. Jane looked at the yellow and gold leaves just beginning to show among the green. If this wasn’t actually the 5th it must be very close. What must it have been like for the queen? One moment so remote from her subjects that they were barely even in the same world, and the next being ordered from her home by them. To be so powerful one moment and so powerless the next. Was this the moment when she had an inkling of how things would turn out? Or was she encased in disbelief and denial right up until the very end?
Jane knew suddenly and with certainty: Marie Antoinette was waiting for news. She was waiting to be told the armed mob was on its way. Did she know these were the last free hours of her life? Freedom being relative, of course. A cage is a cage, even when provided with every luxury. But how desirable would a gilded cage seem to the starving poor in Paris?
North, having located the queen, wisely saw no reason to approach her. She crouched at the foot of a wide-trunked tree and gestured for Jane to do the same.
The Time Police had a procedure for this. North watched Marie Antoinette and Jane faced the other way, watching their backs and scanning the silent wood around them, the sunlight slanting dusty gold through the trees, the empty path. What was happening to the others? Had Ellis and Matthew been able to capture the young man with the gun? Who was he? Why was he here? And Luke? How was he faring with those two formidable Englishwomen, either one of whom could easily eat him for breakfast? Where were they at this very moment? And where was the Comte de Vaudreuil, who should be here and wasn’t?
As if in answer to her question, Moberly and Jourdain both appeared to her right, strolling along the path following the course of the stream. Catching sight of the queen, still standing beneath the willows, Moberly paused for a moment in surprise and then, drawing level with the motionless Marie Antoinette, she acknowledged her presence with a small curtsey which Marie Antoinette acknowledged with an inclination of her head. Obviously not having a clue who either of these women could be, she’d fallen back on court etiquette.
Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever was going on elsewhere, everything here was occurring exactly as it should. The ladies walked on. Marie Antoinette watched them for a moment and then turned away.
Someone hissed quietly to Jane’s right. Luke peered from behind a tree, gestured to the two women and gave North a thumbs-up.
Jane nodded at him. So far, so good.
He grinned at them and then set off again. Eventually Moberly and Jourdain would exit the time-slip as easily as they had entered, the time-slip would shut down, everyone’s life would continue as it should and the Time Police could go home.
Jane shifted her position to ease her legs. The queen was here and apparently alone. Ellis and Matthew must surely have the intruder under control by now. She could understand North’s instinct to leave well alone. In Jane’s experience, interfering rarely ended well. There was no immediate peril. They would wait here behind the tree and keep an unobtrusive eye on the queen until Major Ellis gave them the all-clear. Everything was in hand.
The red-cloaked figure crashed noisily through the trees. Sweat was pouring down his face and his eyes bulged in fear. Panic was written all over him. He appeared to be running quite blindly. Matthew and Ellis were directly behind him. There had obviously been some sort of confrontation already – the assailant was festooned with hardened pieces of yellow string. So for some reason, their liquid string aerosols worked. She would discover later that aerosols had been invented in this very year. Who knew?
Brandishing his pistol and shouting incoherently, the young man ran towards the startled Marie Antoinette, who, very sensibly, took one look at the wild-eyed man heading directly towards her and fled. Picking up her skirts, she ran along the stream, calling for help.
Jane leaped to her feet and followed North who, in turn, had set off after the queen.
‘So that’s all of us chasing her now,’ said Bolshy Jane, cheerfully.
No one came to the queen’s aid. No Swiss Guards, no servants, no courtiers – no friends. Whether they were already under arrest or whether, knowing what was about to happen, they’d abandoned their queen, Jane had no idea. Nor should she allow it to distract her. She’d been ordered to protect Marie Antoinette and protect the queen she would.
Queens, in general, do not run – as a child, Jane had wondered if their wide skirts meant they were on wheels – and Marie Antoinette was even more rubbish at running than most. Jane and North splashed through the stream and headed after her. They didn’t have far to go. Hampered by her clothing and a complete ignorance of how to perambulate at speed, Marie Antoinette had not got very far. She leaned against a tree with her hand on her heaving bosom.
Jane was unable to decide whether she was just unfit because queens never did anything more strenuous than look at themselves in mirrors, or whether women in general just didn’t exert themselves in this day and age. It seemed safe to assume her role as shepherdess had not been particularly arduous.
The intruder leaped the stream, brandished his pistol and shouted incoherently.
North stepped between the man and the queen and held up her hand, palm out. Her voice was strong and clear. ‘Halt. Time Police. By the authority vested in me, I order you to lay down your weapon and submit to questioning.’
Strangely, the man failed to comply. Jane was unsure what to do next because – as Luke had frequently remarked during training – ‘The official warning is so long the suspect has usually taken the opportunity to shoot us and escape before we’ve finished, so what to do next is not usually a concern.’