“Well, then, you’re going to go see what’s there so you can rescue them later. I think you should take me with you. You need me. You’d have died if I hadn’t gone with you to 1349. I can pose as a university student studying Nelson’s tomb or something and make a list of all the treasures for you.”

“I don’t know where you got this ridiculous idea, Colin. No one is going to St. Paul’s to rescue anything.”

“Then why are you going to St. Paul’s?”

“That doesn’t concern you-what is that?” he said as the tech came in carrying a knee-length yellow satin coat embroidered with pink flowers.

“This?” she said. “Oh, it’s not for you. It’s for Kevin Boyle. He’s doing King Charles II’s court. There’s a telephone call from Research for you. Shall I tell them you’re busy?”

“No, I’ll take it.” He followed her into the workroom.

“Nothing on Paternoster Row? What about Ave Maria Lane? Or Amen Corner?” Colin heard him say, followed by a long pause, and then, “What about the casualties lists? Were you able to find one for the seventeenth? No, that’s what I was afraid of. Yes, well, let me know as soon as you do.” He came back out.

“Was that phone call about why you’re going to St. Paul’s?” Colin said. “Because if you need to find out something, I could go back to St. Paul’s and-”

“You are not going to St. Paul’s or World War II or the World Trade Center. You are going back to school. After you’ve passed your A-levels and been admitted to Oxford and the history program, then we’ll discuss your going to-”

“By then, it’ll be too late,” Colin muttered.

“Too late?” Mr. Dunworthy said sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I’m ready to go on assignment now, that’s all.”

“Then why did you say ‘By then, it will be too late’?”

“Just that three years is ages, and by the time you let me go on assignment, all the best events will have been taken, and there won’t be anything exciting left.”