He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so, ma’am.’ He paused, torn between embarrassment and good manners. ‘Er . . . would you like to sit down?’

She plonked herself in the visitor’s chair, pulled over his fruit bowl and began to rifle the contents. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear our guests are all singing like . . . what’s that bird again? Begins with C.’

‘Cassowary,’ said Ellis, deriving comfort from being as high as a kite on painkillers and intending to blame it on the drugs afterwards.

‘Really?’

He nodded.

‘You’re sure?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Well, singing like cassowaries then. We’re liaising with the civilian police and it looks as if we’re about to take another clump of illegals out of circulation.’ She frowned. ‘One of your bananas appears to have mutated.’

‘Carambola, ma’am.’

‘Isn’t that a cheese?’

‘I believe not, ma’am.’

She sighed. ‘Where’s Charlie when I need him? He knows all about this sort of thing.’

‘Very high in vitamin C,’ he said.

‘Who said?’

‘Officer North, ma’am. It was she who brought it.’

If Commander Hay thought this an interesting fact, she did not say so. ‘How does one eat it?’

‘One doesn’t intend to try, ma’am.’

‘Very wise, I think.’ She stared out of the window. The rainy season was upon them and visibility was poor. Tall buildings were outlined in flashing red lights for the benefit of low-flying airships. The Shard and the Cheesegrater were brightly lit – the Folded Napkin and the Startled Hamster were out of sight.

‘I’ve been reviewing the mission reports.’

‘So have I, ma’am.’

‘Farrell did well.’

‘All the members of my team performed well, ma’am.’

‘They did, didn’t they? I think they surprised us all. Farrell took on three illegals with nothing more than liquid string and blind optimism, and whether or not Lockland did see something in that tomb, she stood her ground.’

‘Yes, I was impressed.’

‘It’s certainly made a difference to her. I passed her in the corridor this morning and she definitely had a bit of a strut on.’

‘She surprised us all, ma’am. She certainly surprised herself.’ He paused. ‘And Parrish . . .’

‘Yes . . .’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Parrish.’

‘I think he held things together very well.’

‘So do I. Another surprise.’

She got to her feet and replaced his much-fingered bowl of fruit. ‘I see more visitors looming.’

Major Ellis looked up to see the mixed bunch of individuals generally referred to as his team slowly approaching and bearing the sort of gifts they each considered appropriate for the sick. Farrell carried a technical magazine obviously intended to provide him with a little light reading, Jane a bunch of flowers – always the first choice of any rufty-tufty Time Police officer – and Parrish – for reasons known only to himself, but which Ellis knew with certainty would not be good – clutched a large, stuffed giraffe.

He groaned. ‘Oh God, what fresh hell is this?’