These she answered with whopping fibs.

‘He’s gone off to Gallifrey.’

‘Gallifrey? Where have I heard that before?’

‘It’s in Ireland.’

‘Rather risky at the moment, surely?’

‘Oh, he’s in no danger. They’re a backward lot, the natives of Gallifrey. Idiots with no dress sense.’

‘Yes…’ Smith nodded thoughtfully. He glanced at his watch.

‘Well, I’d better be getting back to…’

‘Joan?’

‘School.’

‘Same thing. Try not to learn too much.’

He got up, making that gesture he always did with his hand, a strange flutter that Benny took to be a perplexed search for a non-existent hat. That alone was worth a thesis. She’d have so many questions for him in three weeks. ‘See you next Friday.’

‘Of course.’ Benny saluted him with her remaining sherry, and watched him depart.

He waved as he mounted his bicycle and peddled off down the road, swerving close enough to the local omnibus to scare the horses.

Benny laughed and drained her glass. ‘What the hell. Good luck to her.’

She noticed that, from a table a few feet away, somebody was staring at her, apparently amazed.

It was a tall and handsome young man, with fair hair, dressed in blazer and whites.

A boater was perched atop his head. He had halted in the act of eating one of the pub’s corned-beef rolls. He broke into a smile as she caught his eye, so she quickly looked away. No thank you. Not wanted on voyage. She put down her glass and reached for her bag, intending to head off for an afternoon’s painting and possibly a little sleep.

But the young man had got up from his seat, and intercepted her as she headed for the steps that led down from the raised area of the tables to the street below.

‘Excuse me⁠ — but it’s Bernice, isn’t it? Bernice Summerfield?’

‘Yes…’ Benny stared at the man, trying to place him. She was sure that she’d never met him before. Perhaps he was one of Alexander’s friends. ‘I’m sorry, have we met before?’

‘Hah! Goodness, Professor, the answer’s both yes and no. Let me see, this would be the time when, ah, you’ve just seen me off on my bicycle, haven’t you! Oh dear, I’m afraid I did make you worry.’

Benny stared at him, her mouth open. ‘Doctor?’

‘Tenth, actually. I pop back here quite often now. I say, you’re drinking sherry! Wouldn’t you prefer a… pint of bitter, wasn’t it?’

Benny unsteadily sat back down, and the man settled opposite her.

‘My God,’ she laughed, ‘this is a bit of a shock. I’m surprised that this sort of thing doesn’t happen more often, really, with time travel and all that. Well, hey, now that you’re here, maybe you could explain why you did this to yourself?’