Emerging a few minutes later and in no rush to return to whatever was happening at the pod, she took a moment to stare around the garden and at the tall walls and blind windows surrounding it. There was no wind in this sheltered spot. Everything was completely still. She could easily imagine a Roman family spending the long summer evenings here, reclining on couches, sipping wine, talking, playing or listening to music. There would be the scent of flowers on the evening air. A pleasant, peaceful existence. Something she would probably never know. In fact, never mind pleasant and peaceful, if the Time Police had their way, there would almost certainly be no existence at all.

She could hear their voices over to her left, but there was no shouting yet. She should hasten back and support Luke in his probably vain attempt to avoid the wrath of Matthew’s mother, but everything here was so very calm and quiet. There had been very little calm and quiet in her life over the last twenty-four hours and she rather felt the moment should be savoured.

Rainwater had collected in the fountain bowl. Later, it would reflect the stars. The water looked clean enough so she swilled her hands and splashed a little on her face. The air was turning chilly. It was warm enough during the day, but it was only March, after all, and the night would be chilly.

She stood quite still, listening to the rise and fall of voices at the other end of the garden and tried to give some serious thought as to what on earth was to become of her and Luke. Something told her St Mary’s would not be taking them in. She and Luke should return to TPHQ and surrender themselves. Save everyone else a great deal of time and effort.

Sighing, she dragged her sleeve across her face to dry it, turned back to the pod and was immediately aware she was not alone. Something large moved in the shadows. Her heart leaped unpleasantly before she realised it was probably Grint or Anders, doing a security sweep. She put her hand to her chest, took a deep breath to calm herself, and from over to her right, frighteningly loud in the still evening air, came the sudden crack of a pistol shot.

She froze – part fear, part caution – and then remembered her training. Really, the Time Police had a procedure for everything. Take cover and, as far as practical, identify the source of the shot. She dropped to a crouch staring around her, trying to see in the uncertain light. Far away, at the other end of the garden, she could hear shouting. Someone was shouting for the medkit. Someone had been hurt.