The clergyman’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find words to describe our moral depravity and then, hearing more voices approaching and possibly afraid of people mistaking the situation for exactly what it was, he turned on his heel and strode rapidly down the street. Markham politely lifted his hat to his departing back.
I thumped his arm. ‘You’re pimping me out now?’
‘Well, I did my best and actually, Max, I think I was winning him over at the end. If you’d just exerted yourself to look a little more attractive, we’d probably have some spending money by now.’
I hit his other arm. ‘He’s probably gone for the authorities.’
He sighed. ‘Great. Another century I can never come back to. And look at the state of you.’
‘We’ll just say I fell down.’
‘Yeah – because pregnant women falling over is never a cause for concern.’
‘For heaven’s sake – give over with the pregnant. It’s a condition – not a disease.’
‘Dr Foster’s going to kill me.’
‘If you don’t stop moaning, I’ll kill you.’
He sighed.
‘Look, we need to get our stories straight. Don’t say I fell down. Say I was pushed.’
‘Yes, that hardly sounds as if I wasn’t doing my job properly at all.’
‘By the crowd, idiot. Say it was an accident. No one’s to blame.’
‘How does you rolling around in the gutter as a mob streams over the top of you make me sound good?’
‘Oh, so that’s what this is all about. You’re just scared of what Helen will say.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Dr Foster doesn’t frighten me,’ I said loftily, knowing full well I’d suffer for that if she ever found out. ‘Look, we should get out of here. I can hear barking again and the last thing we need is to be attacked by some pack of rabies-ridden, feral dogs.’
‘Let’s go to the park’ he said. ‘They’ve laid on stuff to keep the mob happy. We’ll stare at some flowers, and you can wash your face, straighten your bonnet, and regain your social status before we go back.’
So we did.
Just for once, neither Dr Foster nor Nurse Hunter were particularly interested in Markham’s scratch – or major laceration, as he kept calling it. I think he was a little peeved at the lack of attention.
‘Your blood pressure’s elevated,’ said Hunter to me.
I had to tread a little carefully because we’d told them I hadn’t suffered any sort of peril or injury, and if they thought even a normal, bog-standard jump would raise my blood pressure, then I’d be grounded for the duration.
‘Well,’ I said carelessly, ‘there might have been the teeniest, tiniest bit of an altercation.’
‘Might have been?’
‘There probably was.’
Hunter sighed and consulted her clipboard while Markham and I sat, feet up, swigging down our tea and waiting for her to finish with me.
‘Are you eating at least five pieces of fruit and/or veg a day?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said, wondering what this had to do with Caroline of Brunswick.
She ticked the ‘no’ box. I mean, why bother to ask?
‘Are you taking at least an hour a day to relax and take things easy?’
A couple of hours ago, I’d been racing around Westminster Abbey in pursuit of an inappropriately active Princess of Wales. In the interests of peace and harmony – to say nothing of Markham’s love life – I said, ‘Yes. I’ve just had a pleasant stroll around the park in the afternoon sunshine.’
She sighed. ‘When?’
‘I told you. Just now.’
‘I mean – what time period?’
‘Oh. Early 19th century. It was actually very pleasant. No one died. Not in front of us, anyway. No one attacked us. There were no earthquakes.’
‘So how on earth did the pair of you pass the time?’
I said, with dignity, ‘It was a cultural experience.’
She made another note.
‘Are you doing your pelvic-floor exercises?’
Markham blinked at her. ‘Which one of us are you talking to?’
‘Of course I am,’ I said, with more speed than accuracy. ‘Forty-five minutes with Chief Farrell and you have a pelvic floor that could crack walnuts.’
Silence.
Markham whispered to me, ‘What’s a pelvic floor?’
‘Something you crack walnuts with.’
‘I could do with one of those. Can I borrow yours?’
‘I’m sure if you want your nuts cracked, Nurse Hunter would be more than happy to oblige.’
We were remanded for the statutory twelve hours, of which we only served six, because the Arminius assignment came back in a hurry and they wanted the beds. A grumpy Markham and I were expelled and forbidden alcohol. Seven days in his case – the rest of my life in mine.