Doomsday Book (Oxford Time Travel, #1) - Connie Willis Page 0,123

job of it, too, as I understand. The tenor a full count behind and absolutely terrible stroking. Which is another reason we’ve got to have a good practice room. Stroking is so important.”

“Of course,” Dunworthy said.

Mrs. Gaddson appeared in the far doorway, looking fierce and maternal. “I’m afraid I have an important trunk call coming in,” he said, standing up so that Ms. Taylor was between him and Mrs. Gaddson.

“Trunk call?” Ms. Taylor said, shaking her head. “You English! I don’t understand what you’re saying half the time.”

Dunworthy escaped out the buttery door, promising to find a practice room so that they could perfect their snapping leads, and went back up to his rooms. Andrews hadn’t phoned. There was one message, from Montoya. “She said to tell you ‘never mind,’ ” Colin said.

“That’s all? She didn’t say anything else?”

“No. She said, ‘Tell Mr. Dunworthy never mind.’ ”

He wondered if she had by some miracle located Basingame and obtained his signature or if she had merely found out whether he was “salmon” or “trout.” He debated ringing her back, but he was afraid the lines would choose that moment to unjam and Andrews would phone.

He didn’t, or they didn’t, until nearly four. “I’m terribly sorry I didn’t ring you sooner,” Andrews said.

There was still no picture, but Dunworthy could hear music and talk in the background. “I was away till last night, and I’ve had a good deal of trouble getting through to you,” Andrews said. “The lines have been engaged, the holiday crush, you know. I’ve been trying every—”

“I need you to come up to Oxford,” Dunworthy cut in. “I need you to read a fix.”

“Of course, sir,” Andrews said promptly. “When?”

“As soon as possible. This evening?”

“Oh,” he said, less promptly. “Would tomorrow do? My livein won’t get in till late tonight, so we’d planned on having our Christmas tomorrow, but I could get a train up in the afternoon or evening. Will that do, or is there a limit on taking the fix?”

“The fix is already taken, but the tech’s come down with a virus, and I need someone to read it,” Dunworthy said. There was a sudden burst of laughter from Andrews’s end. Dunworthy raised his voice. “What time do you think you can be here?”

“I’m not certain. Can I ring you back tomorrow and tell you when I’ll be coming in on the tube?”

“Yes, but you can only take the tube as far as Barton. You’ll need to take a taxi from there to the perimeter. I’ll arrange for you to be let through. All right, Andrews?”

He didn’t answer, though Dunworthy could still hear the music. “Andrews?” Dunworthy said. “Are you still there?” It was maddening not to be able to see.

“Yes, sir,” Andrews said, but warily. “What was it you said you wanted me to do?”

“Read a fix. It’s already been taken, but the tech—”

“No, the other bit. About taking the train to Barton.”

“Take the train to Barton,” Dunworthy said loudly and carefully. “That’s as far as it goes. From there, you’ll have to get a taxi to the quarantine perimeter.”

“Quarantine?”

“Yes,” Dunworthy said, irritated. “I’ll arrange for you to be allowed into the quarantine area.”

“What sort of quarantine?”

“A virus,” he said. “You haven’t heard about it?”

“No, sir. I was running an on-site in Florence. I only arrived back this afternoon. Is it serious?” He did not sound frightened, only interested.

“Eighty-one cases so far,” Dunworthy said.

“Eighty-two,” Colin said from the window seat.

“But they’ve identified it, and the vaccine’s on the way. There haven’t been any fatalities.”

“But a lot of unhappy people who wanted to be home for Christmas, I’ll wager,” he said. “I’ll call you in the morning, then, as soon as I know what time I’ll arrive.”

“Yes,” Dunworthy shouted to make sure Andrews could hear over the background noise. “I’ll be here.”

“Right,” Andrews said. There was another burst of laughter and then silence as he rang off.

“Is he coming?” Colin asked.

“Yes. Tomorrow.” He punched in Gilchrist’s number.

Gilchrist appeared, sitting at his desk and looking belligerent. “Mr. Dunworthy, if this is about pulling Ms. Engle out—”

I would if I could, Dunworthy thought, and wondered if Gilchrist truly didn’t realize Kivrin had already left the drop site and wouldn’t be there if they did open the net.

“No,” he said. “I’ve located a tech who can come read the fix.”

“Mr. Dunworthy, may I remind you—”

“I am fully aware that you are in charge of this drop,” Dunworthy said, trying to keep his temper. “I was merely trying to help.