Hello everyone! We’re here for another of the St Mary’s fanfiction short stories competition entries. This week it’s Kyrsty Hardy’s turn.
This was lovely. I’m so pleased Dr Bairstow had a happy ending for once. In fact, he’s figured prominently in all the entries. Obviously a favourite character. I really like the ending and the nicely understated image of the two of them dancing the night away. And huge professional congratulations on managing to fit Roanoke, a fire, a flood, a skeleton and the Queen’s Jubilee into only 500 words!
It was against Bairstow’s better judgement to send the usual suspects, but with Bashford concussed, and everyone else at a Tudor wedding, an urgent request from Thirsk left only Maxwell, Peterson and Markham available to jump to Roanoke. They had returned suspiciously meekly, and something was clearly amiss.
Standing in his favoured interrogation pose, Bairstow summoned them. Markham was quick to defend himself. “Sir, I was just trying to keep the kids in blue safe. The fire came from nowhere, and I can’t explain the flood. Ask Max; Major Guthrie says it’s always her”.
Maxwell grinned, always a cause for concern.
“Dr Maxwell, explain.”
Peterson interjected. “No need for concern, sir. A minor fire, a little water, no time police. A roaring success”.
“Indeed sir” Maxwell began in the tone that meant trouble “and I think the skeleton was ok. I mean, I didn’t check, but we weren’t struck down, so History must be happy”
Bairstow was not persuaded. “I don’t share this optimism. You will return immediately and ensure History is intact.”
“But sir, we can’t go, we’re already there.”
“Who’s available?” Bairstow demanded.
“Bashford, who doesn’t know who he is, Chief Farrell… and you sir.”
Bairstow sighed “Farrell and I, then. I shall deal with you when we return.”
An hour later, Leon initiated the jump. The world went white. And then, it went red, white and blue…
“Chief, we appear to be in the wrong century” Bairstow checked the readout. “Please explain how my Chief Technical Officer has confused the 1500s and the Golden Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II. Have you had too many sleep deprived nights with my godson? Or have you finally succumbed to the foolishness that afflicts my entire unit.”
“No, sir, we are exactly where I intended us to be. Look, Edward”
Viewing the Mall through the screens, Bairstow saw a familiar figure. He caught his breath, and started for the door, before stopping with visible effort
“Why would you do this? I cannot go out there.”
“You can; Annie was left behind when the team jumped back due to an injury, and spent the evening alone before a rescue party arrived.” Bairstow thought back “I was on another jump. She never spoke about it, she just said she danced…”
He looked again at the lonely figure of his lost love. As he watched, another familiar figure appeared behind her, dressed in toga and sandals, looked directly at the camera, and nodded, before disappearing.
“The 100 year rule?”
“Our childhoods are far enough in the future, sir. St Mary’s won’t arrive for 5 hours.”
“What shall I say?”
“Edward, if anyone can navigate this situation, it is you.”
Bairstow subtly checked his reflection in a monitor, and reached the door before turning back.
“An honour and a privilege, Edward.” Bairstow placed his cane to one side, and left the pod. Tonight, he would dance with the girl he loved. Farrell closed the door, and put the kettle on. “Happy birthday, sir”.