“There’s someone here,” Ruthven said in a strangled voice.
“What sort of someone?”
The blue-robed woman stepped through the cupboard. Through it, like a ghost. She was translucent as Cressida had been translucent, and clearly saw no need to respect the rules of physics.4
“There!” Ruthven howled.
“I don’t see anything!” Boswell said, alarmed. “Are you having some sort of fit?”
“I don’t know what a jade pineapple is,” Ruthven insisted, backing up to the window as the spooky woman in blue robes approached him. “Feel free to take the chandelier upstairs. Or maybe downstairs. I’m confused!”
Two cats came through the cupboard door. They were nothing like any cats Ruthven had seen outside a museum or Cleopatra’s palace. They were the size of greyhounds, tall and stately, prowling with pointed ears pricked up. Their general shape was that of Egyptian Bast statues, though they had a glittery, purplish hue that was remarkably un-ancient and otherworldly.
Altogether, the most unconvincing cats he’d ever seen.
“Ruthven,” snapped Boswell. “What in hellfire are you staring at?”
“Cats,” sputtered Ruthven. “Giant purple cats. Blue robes…”
“Really,” said the woman, sounding disappointed. “If you’re not going to be helpful, we’ll have to lock you up with the others.”
“Please don’t,” Ruthven begged. His vision was already darkening around the edges, as if it had all got too much for him
The last thing he heard was Professor Boswell, shouting his name.
And then…
All he could see, all he could think, was blue.
1 Robson O’Sullivan played Sir Victor Wildegreen’s dull son Edgar in Cramberleigh Seasons 1-4 before being sent off to war at the beginning of Season 5. When asked at a 1980s science fiction convention why the character’s fate was never explained on screen (indeed, why Edgar was never mentioned again), Season 5 script editor Lindsey Gordon famously said “Fair cop, we forgot about him.”
2 Sir Victor Wildegreen, lord of Cramberleigh, was played for eleven seasons by the legendary Christopher Seasalter (1922-2005). Known for his mesmerising combination of ghoulish melodrama and dry wit, Seasalter famously turned down roles in Star Wars, Doctor Who, Blake’s 7, twelve different Hammer Horror productions, and Midsomer Murders. Indeed, after his stint on Cramberleigh, he returned to repertory theatre and remained there for the rest of his prodigious career. Seasalter’s only film credit after 1975 is an appearance on Comic Relief in 1997: in this skit, twelve actors who have previously played the Ghost of Hamlet’s Father find themselves in the same BBC lift, and engage in a violent duel to the death from which only Brian Blessed emerges alive. The conquered foes remain as ghosts haunting the lift. This obscure piece of media enjoyed a brief moment of viral pop culture acclaim thirty years later in an internet meme inspired by Seasalter’s deadpan delivery of the line “We’ll just wait here, then, Brian.”
3 Lady Sophia, the third Lady Wildegreen, appeared in Seasons 5-6 of Cramberleigh, before dying of the Spanish flu. Played by Barbara Hill (1945-2022), best known for her long-running roles on soaps such as Coronation Street (Maggie Beardsley 1965-1968 & 1982-1993), Emmerdale Farm (Emma Bagshot 1976-1981), EastEnders (Shirley Magpie 1995-2012) and Holby City (Maggie Bagsley 2006, 2013-2018). Hill also had a starring role in The Anne Hathaway Show (1981), a short-lived sitcom based on the life of the wife of William Shakespeare in which the Bard never appears.
4 Unlike time travel, physics has rules.
Forty-One
The Answer
We’re not academics.
We’re not students.
We’re not time travellers.
We’re not in control.
We are the experiment.
Zadie Kincaid, Thoroughly Unhinged about Time Travel, At the End of My Rope, Send Help, I think they’re coming for me…
Forty-Two
1664 Party of the Delights
“Finally,” Monterey announced to the group. “I’m enjoying time travel.”
Lovelace, perched on his shoulder, snorted at him. “Because you’ve clearly been having a terrible time before now.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t invent time aisles years ago,” Monterey said, tapping her on her soft nose. “Much more civilised than that whole hoops business. And look at this! Marvellous. You don’t get this at home.”
‘This’ was a fabulously excessive garden party, held in the grounds of Versailles, France, 1664. Monterey had managed to pinch somebody’s bright purple coat: he looked like he belonged here, as long as no one put up too much fuss about the turtleneck jumper being invented four centuries early.
That was unlikely to be a problem, given that this wasn’t exactly the original Pleasures of the Enchanted Island garden party from the original 1664 that Monterey had Lovelace had visited the first time around.1 Oh, there was Louis XV, the Sun-King himself, garbed all in red as the knight Roger from Orlando Furioso, mounted on a horse with a gemstone-encrusted harness.
There was a horse-drawn golden chariot, a giant carousel, and a stage all ready for a ballet performance. Every tree, every fountain, every spare inch of grass, was ornamented to make it look like the king’s guests had fallen into a book of fairytales. There was the lovely Louise de Vallière, the king’s mistress, more ornately dressed than his queen, Maria Theresa of Spain, or his mother — Anne of freaking Austria.2
Most of those things were the same. But this was in other regards, very much not the same party Monterey had attended the first time around.
The sky was an unsettling shade of purple, though it was supposed to be mid-afternoon. Since he had been standing here in his fabulous coat, Monterey had seen at least two jets fly over, and several helicopters.
Louise de Vallière was cosplaying Marilyn Monroe, who wouldn’t be born for more than two hundred and fifty years. She had even found a steam vent to stand over, which was impressive for 1664.
Anne of Austria, who must be in her early sixties, was wearing comfy blue jeans and a Placebo t-shirt. Her hair was still elaborately styled for court, though someone had added the modern touch with a giant sunflower tucked into her beaded up-do.
The refreshments tables, along with the usual dainties, pastries and stuffed goose livers you might expect at a royal affair, displayed several crystal decanters filled with Skittles, and a pyramid of vodka cocktails in cans.
