To the right of the door stood the console, an array of flashing lights and read-outs. Basic metal seats were bolted around two of the walls and the fourth wall contained the weapons safe, equipment lockers and first-aid kit. The space wasn’t large, but it was well lit. The fixtures and fittings were all Time Police beige – the Time Police not being an organisation that embraced vibrant colour – and the floor covering was Time Police grey. The whole pod smelled pleasantly of Mountain Pine.

Somewhat apprehensively, they filed in and waited, standing around, unsure what to do next. And, as if the day wasn’t going to be bad enough, the dreaded Officer North was waiting for them.

Perfect was a word frequently used to describe Celia North. She was tall enough to be elegant but not so tall as to be gangly. Her hair was blonde and well managed, adapting itself quite happily to whichever style was currently required of it. Her carefully planned academic career had been exceptional. Head girl at the same exclusive public school attended by her mother and her mother before her, she’d gone on to graduate from Durham with a first-class degree and a CV filled with memberships of all the right societies and committees likely to prove useful in her future career – which, since her family owned extensive land and properties all across northern England, she hardly needed.

Recruited to St Mary’s, she was understood to be efficient, effective and capable. She was admired without being much liked. Held in respect, not affection.

On arrival at St Mary’s, she had, as usual, identified her goals and set up two-, five- and ten-year plans for achieving them. These included – but were not necessarily limited to – becoming Head of the History Department. She would, naturally, go on to become Director of St Mary’s, after which the place would be run on very different lines to its current shambolic system of administration.

A chance encounter with the Time Police had led to her spending some time with them while St Mary’s extricated itself from one of its many crises. There was always some sort of crisis at St Mary’s – something she had planned to rectify at the earliest opportunity – but to the surprise of everyone – including Officer North herself – there had been a mutual attraction between herself and the Time Police.

The Time Police themselves were not unaware of the value of the historical perspective Officer North could provide and Officer North, scenting accelerated promotion, promptly revised her game plan.