‘But . . . you said . . . I said . . . fucking hang on a minute!’

‘Wikipedia said Ben Ryder was intelligent,’ Safa points out.

‘Yeah, but . . . I got beat up for saying I wanted to go back . . .’

‘No,’ she says. ‘You got beat up for being a dick. Harry is merely suggesting that should an opportunity present itself whereby we can make a wee trip . . . for him to see Edith and for me to . . . do what I need to do . . . then, you know . . . fuck’s sake, Ben! We’ve got a time machine right there.’

‘Timeline,’ he blurts.

‘Yes, which is why we haven’t already done it until we know what we can do without breaking things,’ she says.

‘Have you discussed this?’ he asks, looking at them both.

‘No,’ she says honestly. ‘I just figured Harry was thinking the same.’

‘Aye, was,’ Harry says.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Ben says indignantly.

‘If an opportunity presents is all we’re saying,’ Safa says. ‘But not yet.’

‘I’m so shocked right now.’

‘Man up,’ Safa grunts, but smiles at him.

‘Mission comes first,’ Harry points out.

‘So you’d go back and see Edith then come back here?’

‘Aye,’ he says with brutal honesty.

‘Fuck me,’ Ben mutters. ‘I think I’ll stick to soft furnishings . . .’

Thirty-Nine

Thirty-Nine

‘They loved it,’ Malcolm says.

‘Yeah? Really? Did they say anything?’ Konrad asks. Malcolm smiles and goes through. ‘Did they?’ Konrad asks again, stepping into the warehouse in Berlin from the bunker in the Cretaceous period.

‘Not in words, but I could tell,’ Malcolm says, leading the way across the room to the door at the end.

‘How did they look?’ Konrad asks, waiting for Malcolm to unlock the door then following him out to the street door.

‘Er . . . alright actually,’ Malcolm says, tilting his head side to side. ‘Yeah, like, same as normal, really.’

‘Can’t believe Roland didn’t come back to see them,’ Konrad says, tutting as he stands waiting for Malcolm to lock the street door. He stares over to the buildings opposite, seeing only the same windows and doors he has seen nearly every day for over six months. ‘He was always like that though,’ Konrad adds, his tone dropping to a grumpy moan. ‘Always had big ideas then got bored and lost interest. His son fucked it up, so you’d think he’d stick with it . . .’

‘He’s getting the money,’ Malcolm says in a tone that suggests this conversation has been going on for a while.

‘Yeah, still,’ Konrad says sulkily.

‘Come on,’ Malcolm says, walking past him to head down the street. ‘We’ll get a cake with our coffees. Hey, should we take them something back? Like a big cake or something? What do you think?’

‘Could do,’ Konrad says, nodding but still sulking a bit. ‘Get some paper hats and a few candles while we’re at it.’