And the Rest Is History(93)

Don’t get your hopes up, said a warning voice in my head. The blast – the crash – the landing – the terror of Constantinople on that day – any or all of those could have killed them. The odds against survival are very great. Don’t allow yourself to hope.

Eventually, aware of the silence, I looked up.

Commander Hay clasped her hands on the table and leaned forward. ‘I’m sorry, Max. You probably need time to process this, and you will have it, but not now. There is something else we must consider.’

I pushed thoughts of Leon to one side and croaked, ‘What?’

‘Yes, there is the possibility – a small one – that they weren’t caught in the blast. But set against that is the certainty that neither was Ronan. And if he is still out there then all our previous arguments about Matthew’s safety apply. We shall, of course, be staging a rescue mission to Constantinople.’ She smiled faintly. ‘We don’t leave our people behind either. I am offering you a place on that mission, Max, but…’ She paused. ‘But, if you want to accompany us then I think you’ll agree that Matthew should return with us to TPHQ. This is an excellent opportunity for this to come about quite naturally. You can leave him with us for safe-keeping. He can have a look around and decide what he thinks of us. You yourself can inspect our facilities, talk to people, whatever you need to do. Then, on your return…’ she had the tact not to say with or without Leon, ‘we can discuss something more permanent. If he wants to stay, of course. I think we agreed it would be up to Matthew to decide.’

I didn’t think that was quite the agreement, but now was not the time and place. And she had a point. Ronan was still at large. If I was to go on this rescue – and I had a horrible feeling I was only being allowed to go because that would enable them to get their hands on Matthew – then it wasn’t fair to expect others here to look after him. And Dr Bairstow’s responsibility was to St Mary’s. Lingoss had her own job to be getting on with. And Matthew had to start having a proper education sometime.

If I refused, then I wasn’t sure whether I would be allowed to go and I had to. I just had to go. So – priorities. Get Leon first. Sort out Matthew later. And at least he would be safe at TPHQ while I was gone.

I nodded my agreement.



Afterwards, I found myself on the gallery, looking down at the deserted, dimly lit Hall. I leaned on the balustrade and tried to think. I heard someone approach and knew that Tim was standing behind me.

I turned to face him. He stood before me with his smart jacket and neatly combed hair. The expression on his face made me want to cry. I desperately wanted to put my arms around him and somehow make everything better for him, but that would not be a good idea for either of us.

I said, ‘Tim…’

‘Max, it’s OK. I’m pleased for you. I really am.’

‘Tim…’

‘And if … well … you know, if things don’t work out for … the best … then just remember I’m here … if you need me.’

I nodded, my eyes blurring with tears. ‘You mustn’t let go, Tim. You must hold on.’

His smile was crooked and bitter. ‘I had hoped we would be able to hold on to each other.’

I couldn’t speak.

He cleared his throat. ‘You should get off now. Lots to do. You need to talk to Matthew as well. Anything I can do to help?’

I’ve known Tim Peterson for many years now and I could see how desperately he wanted to be alone. To absorb what had just happened. To come to terms with … events.

I pretended to think carefully. ‘No, I think I’m OK, thanks very much. Are you around later if I think of anything?’

‘Of course,’ he said, backing away. ‘Anytime. Just give me a shout.’

I nodded and somewhat blindly set out to find Matthew.



He and Lingoss were in R&D, building a dirigible. Of course they were. Just a small one, she reassured me.

‘We’re going to pilot it around the building,’ she said, forestalling my inevitable questions. ‘There’ll be a little basket underneath to hold files, scratchpads, memos, bacon butties – that sort of thing. People can use it to send things to each other. Like email, but with physical objects. It’ll be really useful.’

There were so many things wrong with that statement that I never even bothered to start. I took her to one side and explained briefly.

She looked at me for a moment and said nothing. Today’s hair made her look like Sideshow Bob, but underneath all that hair and make-up there’s a very bright girl.

I took a chance. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t know how you’ll manage it, but I don’t think Peterson should be alone this evening. You’re intelligent and resourceful without being obvious. Think of something.’

She nodded. ‘I will, don’t worry.’

‘I knew you would. Go now.’

She disappeared.

I turned to Matthew, horribly dirty despite not having set foot out of doors all day. ‘And now, young man, you and I are off on a trip.’



Back in our rooms, I pulled down my sports bag and, not without a great deal of deliberation on Matthew’s part, packed three of his favourite toys. On top of those I hurled his sweatshirts, jeans and shirts. This not being bath or bedtime, he was wearing his precious trainers. I watched my hands folding and smoothing and, all the time, the same phrase was looping endlessly through my head – Leon might be alive. Leon might be alive.