And the Rest Is History(16)

I wiped my nose on his orange jumpsuit. He found me an oily handkerchief, saying shakily, ‘Not your most attractive habit, Lucy.’

I made an enormous effort to pull myself together. Leon needed me to function.

‘Can you go and see Dr Bairstow?’ he said, and I nodded. ‘He wants to talk to you. To find out exactly what happened. I have to find Ian Guthrie and join the search again. Will you be all right on your own for a little while?’

I nodded again. ‘Please don’t be too long.’

‘I won’t. I promise.’

The stairs seemed endless. I saw no one but I could hear sounds of searching. Doors opening and closing. People calling to each other. They must have been at it for hours. It was useless. I knew it was useless. Ronan was long gone.

With that thought, I felt my chest clench and everything swayed around me. I leaned on the banisters and struggled on.

Mrs Partridge was waiting for me.

‘He’s on the telephone at the moment,’ she said. ‘He won’t be a minute. Please come and sit down.’

Not a moment too soon. My legs folded of their own accord and I sat down with a bump.

‘I’ve made you some tea,’ she said, passing me a steaming mug and I suddenly realised I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for hours.

I don’t know what was in that mug but it wasn’t tea. She’d done this once before – brewed me some sort of ancient corpse-reviver from the groves of Mount Ida. I’d been dying and it had certainly put me back on my feet again. Tonight was no different. I felt new strength course through my body. The sudden surge of heat only emphasised how cold I’d been. I sat up straight and looked around me.

‘Finish your drink,’ she said and I didn’t need to be told twice, upending the mug and draining every last drop.

My lips felt stiff and dry. ‘Thank you.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Much better, thank you.’ I nodded at the door. ‘Is there any news?’

‘Not so far, but please be assured everything possible is being done. Dr Bairstow has put everyone on full alert. He’s calling in favours. We’ll find him Max. Wherever Ronan goes, they’ll track him down.’

It wasn’t Ronan I wanted to find, but I appreciated what she was saying.

Her intercom buzzed. ‘You can go in now.’

Dr Bairstow stood up as I entered. ‘Max, my dear.’

‘Good evening, sir,’ I said, struggling a little with kindness, as I always do.

‘Sit down, please. You must be eager to know what progress has been made.’

I nodded, hardly daring to hope.

He sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Max, not a lot. We can say, definitely, that your son…’ I made a gesture. ‘…that Ronan is not anywhere here at St Mary’s or in the grounds. I’ve spoken to the Chief Constable. Road blocks have been set up around the county – although I think it very unlikely he used conventional transportation to get in and out.’

He paused. ‘I have, therefore, contacted the Time Police and formally requested their assistance.’

I swallowed everything down, made myself stay silent, and we looked at each other over his desk.

He said quietly, ‘May I have your thoughts on this particular course of action.’

Half of me wanted to rise up in fury and demand he call them off. The other half thought it was a good idea because they had tech and resources far beyond anything we possessed. And actually, if it meant I got Matthew back then I’d do a deal with the devil.

The silence was still there. He was watching me closely. He’d done the right thing. Never mind that all this was their fault. The Time Police were absolutely the right way to go.

I swallowed everything down again. Mrs Partridge’s potion must be working overtime to keep me this calm. As if I had summoned her by the power of thought alone, she entered. With real tea this time. I waited until she had poured and then said, ‘An excellent idea, sir.’ I paused. ‘Will they come, do you think?’

‘I think so,’ he said, and now he paused. I knew what he was going to say. I sat back with my tea and let him say it anyway.

He cleared his throat. ‘I think it would be helpful if today’s events were not … flung at them as soon as they walk through the door. And even more helpful if you could refrain from shooting them as well.’

‘Certainly not, sir. Not until they’ve found…’ I found I still couldn’t say Matthew’s name.

He held out his little arms to me.

‘…Not until they’ve completed the mission, anyway. After that … I can make no promises.’

He nodded gravely. ‘That seems eminently fair. Let us hope I remember to warn them of their peril.’ He was unsmiling. ‘I can make no promises either.’

He put down his tea. ‘Now then, Max. What happened after you left us in Hawking? And in as much detail as you can manage. Please bear in mind you will probably have to repeat your story several times tonight. The first time will be the most difficult for you and so it is probably best to do it now, among friends.’

I closed my eyes and relived the scene. The doors. The empty nurses’ station. Ronan. Matthew. Helen. Oh my God. Helen. I’d … No, I hadn’t forgotten. I’d just pushed it to the back of my mind and now the images burst forth. Helen was dead. I saw again that neat little black hole just above her right eyebrow. Saw her crumple. Dead before she hit the floor.