Another Time, Another Place Read online

  Copyright © 2021 Jodi Taylor

  The right of Jodi Taylor to be identified as the Author of

  the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  First published in Great Britain in 2021 by

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  This Ebook edition published in 2021 by

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  1

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law,

  this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted,

  in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of

  the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in

  accordance with the terms of licences issued by the

  Copyright Licensing Agency.

  All characters in this publication – other than the obvious

  historical figures – are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons,

  living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 4722 7319 2

  Cover design and illustration by zoedrawsthings.co.uk

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  An Hachette UK Company

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  www.headline.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  About the Book

  ‘It’s time, Max.’

  And so, a whole new chapter opens up . . .

  It’s long been known that if a thing can go wrong, it will. With knobs on, usually. Disasters start to pile up. A new colleague with no respect for the past and a great deal to prove. Historians lost in time. And – worst of all – Rosie Lee on her very first jump. Then there’s the small matter of Max’s dishonourable discharge.

  From Tudor England to the Tower of Babel – it’s all going horribly wrong.

  Jobless and homeless, Max receives an offer she can’t refuse. Another time, another place. A refuge, perhaps.

  She’s got that wrong, too.

  About the Author

  Jodi Taylor is the internationally bestselling author of the Chronicles of St Mary’s series, the story of a bunch of disaster prone individuals who investigate major historical events in contemporary time. Do NOT call it time travel! She is also the author of the Time Police series – a St Mary’s spinoff and gateway into the world of an all-powerful, international organisation who are NOTHING like St Mary’s. Except, when they are.

  Alongside these, Jodi is known for her gripping supernatural thrillers featuring Elizabeth Cage, together with the enchanting Frogmorton Farm series – a fairy story for adults.

  Born in Bristol and now living in Gloucester (facts both cities vigorously deny), she spent many years with her head somewhere else, much to the dismay of family, teachers and employers, before finally deciding to put all that daydreaming to good use and write a novel. Nearly twenty books later, she still has no idea what she wants to do when she grows up.

  By Jodi Taylor and available from Headline

  time police series

  doing time

  hard time

  The Chronicles of St Mary’s series

  Just One Damned Thing After Another

  A Symphony of Echoes

  A Second Chance

  A Trail Through Time

  No Time Like the Past

  What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

  Lies, Damned Lies, and History

  And the Rest is History

  An Argumentation of Historians

  Hope for the Best

  plan for the worst

  Another Time, Another Place

  short story collections

  The Long and Short of It

  Long story Short

  The Chronicles of St Mary’s digital shorts

  When a Child is Born

  Roman Holiday

  Christmas Present

  Ships and Stings and Wedding Rings

  THE VERY FIRST DAMNED THING

  The Great St Mary’s Day Out

  My Name is Markham

  A Perfect Storm

  Christmas Past

  Battersea Barricades

  The Steam-Pump Jump

  And Now For Something Completely Different

  WHEN DID YOU LAST SEE YOUR FATHER?

  Why is Nothing Ever Simple?

  The Ordeal of the Haunted Room

  Elizabeth Cage novels

  White Silence

  Dark Light

  Frogmorton Farm Series

  The Nothing Girl

  The Something Girl

  Little Donkey (digital short)

  Joy to the World (digital short)

  ––––––––––––––

  A Bachelor Establishment

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also By

  Author’s Thank You

  Dramatis Thingummy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Acknowledgements

  Discover more from Jodi Taylor

  Author’s Thank You

  Most of this book was written during the Covid-19 lockdown. I should make it very clear that Max’s views on the hard-heartedness of the nursing profession are hers and hers alone. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone in the NHS for their selfless dedication and determination.

  And I’m pretty sure that whatever Markham says, nurses don’t actually throw people out of windows in the pursuance of their duties.

  Dramatis Thingummy

  St Mary’s Personnel

  Dr Bairstow

  Director of St Mary’s.

  Dr Peterson

  Deputy Director. Soon-to-be matrimonialised. Fingers crossed.

  Mrs Brown

  Aka – Lady Blackbourne. North’s mother. High-ranking member of the Civil Service. Busy lady.

  Mrs Partridge

  PA to the Director.

  History Department

  Dr Maxwell

  Head of the History Department.

  Miss Van Owen

  Mr Clerk

  Miss Prentiss

  Mr Sands

 
; Historians. But possibly not for much longer.

  Mr Roberts

  Mr Bashford

  Miss Sykes

  Mr Atherton

  Rosie Lee

  PA to the Head of the History Department. Time-travel virgin. But not for much longer.

  Technical Section

  Chief Technical Officer Farrell

  Sensibly not very involved in this one. Too busy whisking the younger generation off to a place of greater safety.

  Mr Dieter

  Turning a blind eye.

  Mr Lindstrom

  Never says much.

  Research and Development

  Professor Rapson

  Head of R&D. Exploring the possibility of bypassing gravity. Proud rapid chicken-firing gun owner.

  Miss Lingoss

  Charioteer and bride.

  Others

  Dr Dowson

  Head Librarian. Who else would take a rapid chicken-firing gun to a church?

  Mrs Enderby

  Head of Wardrobe.

  Mrs Midgley

  Housekeeper. Both of them very helpful in relocating St Mary’s supplies to an alternative site. All right – stealing.

  Matthew, Mikey and Adrian

  They and their talents are being moved to a place of greater safety. Out of the way for the time being but storing up big problems for the future.

  Security Section

  Captain Hyssop

  Off to a really bad start.

  Scarfe

  Half-Wit

  Lucca

  Another Half-Wit

  Glass

  Yet another Half-Wit

  Harper

  And another one

  Jessop

  Yes, him too.

  The one whose name no

  Un-named Half-Wit

  one can ever remember

  Evans

  Real security guard

  Keller

  Another real security guard

  Gallacio

  Yet another real security guard

  Cox

  And another one

  Mr Strong

  Caretaker and handyman. Dr Bairstow’s first recruit to St Mary’s.

  Markham

  The Con part of Pros and Cons.

  Hunter

  His family.

  Baby Flora

  Commander John Treadwell

  Quite likeable, actually. Unless you’re Max.

  Halcombe and Sullivan

  Released from captivity.

  The Reverend Kevin Aguta

  The Rev Kev. An impressive example of Christian tolerance and forgiveness.

  Martin Gaunt

  Security superintendent at the Red House. A man in love with his own authority.

  Various Red House

  security staff

  Josiah Winterson

  We never meet him but he gets a good kicking nevertheless.

  Jack Feeney

  We do meet him. He wishes we hadn’t.

  Assorted distressed maidservants who suddenly discover what their boots are for

  Sir Richard Verney

  He shouldn’t be here! What is happening?

  Amy Robsart

  Look where you’re going – whoops – too late.

  The mysterious inhabitants of a mysterious litter

  Your guess is as good as mine.

  People and priests of Babylon

  Abilsin

  Son of Sin but quite a nice boy.

  A silk merchant and slave owner

  A couple of overseers at the brickyard

  Pennyroyal

  An alleged butler.

  Lady Amelia Smallhope

  A member of the aristocracy. Bounty hunter. Sorry – recovery agent.

  I’d forgotten how cold it can be just before dawn. And quite dark, too. On the other hand, I’ve been clandestinely creeping around St Mary’s since the moment I arrived all those years ago. I know every twist and turn. Every creaking door. Every squeaky board. As long as Professor Rapson hadn’t carelessly left any half-constructed bear traps or acid baths around the place, I didn’t even need a torch.

  I ghosted around the gallery and down the stairs, carefully keeping to the edges to minimise the creaks, although the whole edifice does tend to groan like a clipper in a strong wind whether anyone is standing on it or not.

  The Great Hall was no problem. I could weave my way in and out of whiteboards, trestle tables, chairs, stools, piles of files, whatever, with my eyes closed. And frequently had.

  I passed silently through the vestibule. The front doors were already unbolted. Easing my way through, I paused to zip up my body warmer. The morning was cold, dank and silent. It was lighter outside, although, sensibly, even the birds weren’t up yet. Moisture beaded every surface. Tendrils of light fog drifted across from the lake. Perfect conditions for a discreet getaway.

  The car stood ready and waiting – a small family hatchback of an indeterminate grey colour. There must be millions of them around. You can’t avoid CCTV cameras completely, of course, but I would bet any money Leon had stowed a couple of alternative registration plates in the boot. I love that people think he’s so respectable.

  I skipped down the steps, my frosty breath billowing and making substantial contributions to the fog and general non-visibility around me. Actually, skipped is the wrong word. Skipped implies light-hearted, joyful, carefree and so on, and I wasn’t any of those. People do leave St Mary’s. Sometimes under quite happy circumstances. But not today. Today was not a happy day.

  Leon loomed up out of the fog. Very visible in his orange techie jumpsuit.

  I tilted my head to one side. ‘You do know this is a stealth assignment, don’t you? Short of attaching an SAR beacon, is there any way you could be more obvious?’

  He put his arm around me because I was just putting on a brave face and we both knew it. I asked him if everything was ready.

  He nodded. ‘It is.’

  I paused.

  He said, ‘It’s time, Max.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, staring at my feet. ‘I know. It’s just . . .’

  ‘I know,’ he said, rubbing my shoulder. ‘But the moment has come to say goodbye.’

  I nodded. No putting it off any longer. Leon shut the boot and
I walked around the car.

  Hunter was sitting in the back seat. Markham had muffled her up well but she still looked a little pale and tired. Baby Flora was sleeping soundly in her car-crib.

  I crouched down to talk to Hunter. ‘All right? Got everything?’

  She smiled. ‘I hope so because I don’t think we have room for anything else.’ And I laughed because, trust me, the amount of supplies and equipment needed to transport a tiny human from A to B is mind-blowingly colossal. They could probably go off and discover another continent with what they had packed in that car.

  I myself had contributed a little to their burden. I’d gone into Matthew’s bedroom and taken down the little suitcase of baby clothes that was all that remained of his childhood. Most of it unworn because he hadn’t had his childhood for very long. I don’t know why I’d kept them. It wasn’t as if I’d ever need them again.

  ‘Here,’ I’d said to Markham. ‘Everything from six months onwards. Babies grow fast and you’ll need them more quickly than you think.’

  He took the case very carefully. ‘Are you sure?’

  I nodded. I’d kept back one or two small items, together with the blanket Helen Foster had knitted, but there was no point in hanging on to the rest. The sensible thing to do was to give the stuff to someone who would need it.