Shuttleworth, Alexander: No records.

She leant back and switched the thing off, hiding it in a deep pocket. She had already broken several laws of time before breakfast. Oh, and ruined somebody’s life. She was definitely going to have words with the Doctor about this.

Assuming, of course, the Doctor ever existed again.

Constance strode merrily into the room, wearing green velvet pantaloons. ‘Put on my bloomers,’ she explained. ‘And how are you both this morning?’

Benny glanced at Alexander’s deathlike face as he stamped back up the stairs.

‘We’ve been better.’

‘So, are we going to go and get this thing of yours from whoever’s got it?’

Constance asked as Alexander led them through the darkened corridors of the museum, refusing to open any curtains.

‘That’s the plan. Alexander says he has something to help us,’ Benny whispered, wondering why she was whispering. Despite everything, Constance’s chirpiness was raising her spirits too.

‘I do indeed, loved one!’ Alexander boomed, overhearing. He was taking deep breaths, being immensely brave, They’d come to a locked room, for which he produced a vast and assorted bunch of keys to enter.

The room was a musty, wallpapered storage area, containing everything that the museum didn’t see fit to display. Benny wouldn’t have minded an afternoon in cataloguing the stuff; there were certainly a few pieces of old metal that might have been worth the trouble, but Alexander went straight to a packing case, and pulled out two revolvers and several boxes of ammunition. ‘Belonged to an uncle who was at Spion Kop.’ He glanced at Constance. ‘I would have told your comrades of them, but I didn’t want knocks on my door at all hours from maidens wishing to be armed.’ He handed her one of the pistols, ‘I couldn’t face handling one; perhaps you can.’

‘We have never used firearms,’ Constance told him, slipping the gun into the pocket of her bloomers. ‘But I shall not hesitate to do so in defence of my life. I should have you know though, Bernice, that we may commit arson and explosion, but have not murdered anyone. We are sincerely moral campaigners.’

‘Fine. One day, I’ll learn to talk like that, too,’ Benny opined, checking the sights on one of the pistols. She spun it, loaded it and dropped it into a pocket. ‘Busy day. Now, shall we⁠ —’

An explosion came from upstairs. Dust detached itself from the roof in a solid layer, then fell.

‘Oh my God!’ Alexander yelled. ‘Quickly, the back door!’

They ran through the museum and Alexander swiftly unlocked the door.

Benny put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Calm down. Don’t run.’ She stepped to a window, and took a quick glance around the frame. The backstreet was empty.