“Doc, make sure you give the signal to the Manager and not to Nora. What’s for her won’t go by her,” laughed Alistair.
Not too long afterwards a loud knock came to the door. “His Eminence the Archbishop Cranmer requests that you all join him in the main dining hall in 10 minutes,” shouted a solider from outside the door.
“This is it, Al my man,” said the Doc. “Once we are eating and having an old natter with the bishop I’ll give you the signal. I will make sure that I let the Manager know what we are up too. She knows me well, so she will work out what the ‘Jack and Nory’ is. We will get the Manager to set the Higulator to take us back to the travelling shed and we can all catch the new shed back home. By the way James, will we drop you off back in the swinging 1960’s?”
“Hey Doc, before we go anywhere what is the feckin’ Jack and Nory,” asked Alistair.
“Al, it will be language we all know. I might just let a big jam tart,” laughed the Doc.
“Feck it Doc, how the feck will we know which one is the signal,” replied Alistair.
“It will be when I say, ‘good old cockney spanner has the jam car running’. That will be it. We will all grab a hold of the Manager. She will have a hold of the Higulator and Bob’s your uncle, we are out of there,” said Doc.
“Hey Doc, 1967, London City at 5.55pm will be great – as you only live twice,” said James Bond.
“Good enough James, 1967 it will be. Then Al , Nora, The Manager, and I can make it back to the good old deck in me back yard for a few Richard Gere’s,” replied Doc. “Right, my band of rebels, let’s get this show on the road and get some grub before we hit the time zones.”
As the three of them entered the great dining hall, Nora, the Manager, and Archbishop Cranmer were already seated at the long table.
To be continued……
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