The next morning saw Ms. Madison waiting at the station, one little foot tapping on the platform as the train pulled into the station, creaking mightily. The doors opened with noises that indicated they needed oiling. Amid the outlandishly dressed people who got off the train, sticking out a mile, was an elderly man in tweeds. Ms. Madison approached him swiftly, thrusting out a welcoming hand. She had not got to him, however, when he was embraced by a scantily-clad brunette, with whom he went off. Ms. Madison blushed fiercely.
"Looking for Professor Gawain?" A perky female voice addressed the blonde secretary.
Turning, Ms. Madison saw a youngish brunette in shorts and a tee-shirt. She carried a briefcase and had a healthy tan.
"Yes," Ms. Madison coloured. "I guess you're Professor Gawain."
"Nope," the girl laughed, "Professor Gawain was the man in tweeds. I'm Ygraine, his daughter. And that was his seventh wife."
Ms. Madison laughed, shaking her head.
"I take it you know why your father was called for," she addressed the girl in the tee-shirt.
"Sure," she shook her head. "Shall we take a look at the abbey ruins where the stuff happened?"
"Okay," Ms. Madison shook her head, "then we have to have lunch in some nice pub where new-age types don't go."
"We can avoid my father, too," Ygraine smiled gently. "Do we walk or take a taxi?"
"I can still walk," Ms. Madison grinned.
Before the girls could go any further, the air was split by a terrifying scream. Professor Gawain staggered off the platform, a javelin sticking out of his chest. Running to where he stood, the girls were just in time to see an armoured figure fade from view. Then, louder than the station announcements, came a booming voice:
"Arthur Will Return!"