The Chronicles of St Mary's Series by Jodi Taylor

Also available in The Long and Short of It.Ever wondered how it all began?It’s two years since the final victory at the Battersea Barricades. The fighting might be finished, but for Dr Bairstow, just now setting up St Mary's, the struggle is only beginning... moreAlso available in The Long and Short of It.Ever wondered how it all began?It’s two years since the final victory at the Battersea Barricades. The fighting might be finished, but for Dr Bairstow, just now setting up St Mary's, the struggle is only beginning.How will he assemble his team?From where will his funding come?How can he overcome the massed ranks of the Society for the Protection of Historical Buildings?How do stolen furniture, a practical demonstration at the Stirrup Charge at Waterloo, students’ alcohol-ridden urine, a widowed urban guerrilla, a young man wearing exciting knitwear, and four naked security guards all combine to become the St Mary’s of the future? less

It's Christmas Day 1066 and a team from St Mary's is going to witness the coronation of William the Conqueror.Or so they think.However, History seems to have different plans for them and when Max finds herself delivering a child in a peasant's hut, she can't help wondering what History is up to.

St Mary’s is back and nothing is going right for Max. Once again, it’s just one damned thing after another.The action jumps from an encounter with a mirror-stealing Isaac Newton to the bloody battlefield at Agincourt. Discover how a simple fact-finding assignment to witness the ancient and murderous cheese- rolling ceremony in Gloucester can result in CBC – concussion by cheese... moreSt Mary’s is back and nothing is going right for Max. Once again, it’s just one damned thing after another.The action jumps from an encounter with a mirror-stealing Isaac Newton to the bloody battlefield at Agincourt. Discover how a simple fact-finding assignment to witness the ancient and murderous cheese- rolling ceremony in Gloucester can result in CBC – concussion by cheese. The long awaited jump to Bronze Age Troy ends in personal catastrophe for Max and just when it seems things couldn’t get any worse – it’s back to the Cretaceous Period again to confront an old enemy who has nothing to lose.So, make the tea, grab the chocolate biscuits, settle back and discover exactly why the entire history department has painted itself blue … less

It's Christmas Eve at St Mary's, And all through the house, Nothing is stirring ... Except for Max, Peterson, and Markham, sneaking out at midnight for an assignment that is very definitely off the books. It's ten years ago tonight that Senior Historians Bashford and Grey went missing in twelfth-century Jerusalem. So how did they end up in AD60 Roman Colchester?  Max has a theory. Peterson has a plan. Markham has bacon sandwiches... moreIt's Christmas Eve at St Mary's, And all through the house, Nothing is stirring ... Except for Max, Peterson, and Markham, sneaking out at midnight for an assignment that is very definitely off the books. It's ten years ago tonight that Senior Historians Bashford and Grey went missing in twelfth-century Jerusalem. So how did they end up in AD60 Roman Colchester?  Max has a theory. Peterson has a plan. Markham has bacon sandwiches. Colchester has Boudicca and her bloodthirsty Iceni hordes. And then there's the giant pig ... the enraged giant pig ... less

Jodi Taylor’s best-selling series The Chronicles of St Mary is back with a bang…St Mary’s has been rebuilt and it’s business as usual for the History department.But first, there’s the little matter of a seventeenth-century ghost that only Mr Markham can see.Not to mention the minor inconvenience of being trapped in the Great Fire of London…and an unfortunately-timed comfort break at Thermopylae leaving the fate of the western world hanging in the balance... moreJodi Taylor’s best-selling series The Chronicles of St Mary is back with a bang…St Mary’s has been rebuilt and it’s business as usual for the History department.But first, there’s the little matter of a seventeenth-century ghost that only Mr Markham can see.Not to mention the minor inconvenience of being trapped in the Great Fire of London…and an unfortunately-timed comfort break at Thermopylae leaving the fate of the western world hanging in the balance.Re-join Max’s madcap journey through time in Jodi Taylor’s fifth inter-dimensional instalment No Time Like the Past. less

Join Max in the sixth instalment in the off-the-wall bestselling Chronicles of St Mary’s series by Jodi Taylor. Max is back! New husband, new job, and a training regime that cannot fail – to go wrong! Take one interim Chief Training Officer, add five recruits, mix with Joan of Arc, a baby mammoth, a duplicitous Father of History, a bombed rat, Stone Age hunters, a couple of passing policemen who should have better things to do, and Dick the Turd... moreJoin Max in the sixth instalment in the off-the-wall bestselling Chronicles of St Mary’s series by Jodi Taylor. Max is back! New husband, new job, and a training regime that cannot fail – to go wrong! Take one interim Chief Training Officer, add five recruits, mix with Joan of Arc, a baby mammoth, a duplicitous Father of History, a bombed rat, Stone Age hunters, a couple of passing policemen who should have better things to do, and Dick the Turd. Stir well, bring to the boil – and wait for the bang! less

It’s Christmas again at St Mary's and time for Max’s obligatory illegal jump. On this occasion, however, they’re right up against it. A loaded gun has been left behind in Ancient Egypt and it’s up to them to retrieve it before anyone accidentally blows their own head off, thus affecting the timeline for centuries to come. And as if that’s not enough, someone (Max) has inadvertently poisoned Mr Markham... moreIt’s Christmas again at St Mary's and time for Max’s obligatory illegal jump. On this occasion, however, they’re right up against it. A loaded gun has been left behind in Ancient Egypt and it’s up to them to retrieve it before anyone accidentally blows their own head off, thus affecting the timeline for centuries to come. And as if that’s not enough, someone (Max) has inadvertently poisoned Mr Markham. It’s hot, they’re running out of supplies, they can’t find the gun, and it’s all going horribly wrong. Again. less

'I've done some stupid things in my time. I've been reckless. I've broken a few rules. But never before have I ruined so many lives or left such a trail of destruction behind me.' As Max would be the first to admit, she's never been one for rules. They tend to happen to other people. But this time she's gone too far and everyone is paying the price. Grounded until the end of time, how can she ever put things right?

Also available in The Long and Short of It.Everyone deserves to get away for a bit. Even the miscreants at St Mary's. Astonishingly, Dr Bairstow has declared a holiday. Even more astonishingly - he's paying for it. Needless to say, there are strings attached. They have to record the 1601 performance of Hamlet, with Shakespeare himself in the role of the Ghost. It doesn't go well, of course.

No one knows quite how, but Max and her baby are safe at last.No one knows quite how, but Peterson has persuaded Dr Foster to marry him.No one knows quite how, but Markham’s marital status remains unknown.Certainly no one knows quite how a twelve-foot-high teapot could mysteriously materialise on the South Lawn, but it does.But they do know that Clive Ronan is back.They do know that he hates them and that this time he has good cause... moreNo one knows quite how, but Max and her baby are safe at last.No one knows quite how, but Peterson has persuaded Dr Foster to marry him.No one knows quite how, but Markham’s marital status remains unknown.Certainly no one knows quite how a twelve-foot-high teapot could mysteriously materialise on the South Lawn, but it does.But they do know that Clive Ronan is back.They do know that he hates them and that this time he has good cause. And they do know that he will bring death and destruction in his wake.Follow the disaster magnets of St Mary’s from the Egyptian desert to the Battle of Stamford Bridge, from Hastings to the Sack of Constantinople, and from tragedy to triumph and back again, in this, the eighth book in The Chronicles of St Mary’s. less

Markham and the Anal ProbingAnd then there was the day when Markham managed to get himself snatched by aliens – or so we thought at the time.I was summoned to Dr Bairstow’s office to find Markham and Peterson already present. We looked at each other.‘Any clues?’ I asked.They shrugged.‘You can go in now,’ said Mrs Partridge, so in we went.He looked up from his desk. ‘There you are.’We agreed that yes, here we were... moreMarkham and the Anal ProbingAnd then there was the day when Markham managed to get himself snatched by aliens – or so we thought at the time.I was summoned to Dr Bairstow’s office to find Markham and Peterson already present. We looked at each other.‘Any clues?’ I asked.They shrugged.‘You can go in now,’ said Mrs Partridge, so in we went.He looked up from his desk. ‘There you are.’We agreed that yes, here we were.He gestured at his briefing table on which reposed several archive boxes and a fat folder.‘The County Archivist has been good enough to make available various documents requested by Dr Dowson. A condition was that we do not expose them to the hazards of a random delivery service.’ It was not clear whether it was the company or its delivery that was random, but we nodded anyway. ‘And so, I would like you, personally, to return these valuable documents with my compliments and thanks.’He handed Peterson an envelope.‘Of course, sir.’‘This afternoon, if you please.’Peterson glanced at his watch. ‘It’s already afternoon, sir.’‘How quickly you grasp my meaning.’‘I do my best, sir.’‘I have assured the County Archivist that my best people are on the job. They being unavailable, however, I have therefore designated my Chief Operations Officer, my Head of Security and my Deputy Director to fulfil this simple task.’His Deputy Directory, Head of Security and Chief Operations Officer assembled their best air of cool professionalism – which in our case consisted of standing a little straighter and not picking our noses. I don’t think he was impressed, staring at us bleakly for a few seconds and then demanding to know why we were still here.Since Peterson was burdened with the envelope, Markham and I seized the boxes and we left with all speed.‘Right,’ said Peterson, ‘I shall assume full control of this mission.’Markham made a rude noise.‘Get changed and meet in the car park in ten minutes. That’s ten minutes, Max. No wafting around in front of mirrors trying on dresses.’Now I made a rude noise.We met in the car park, shoving Markham and the boxes in the back, and departed.‘A nice afternoon out,’ said a voice from behind the boxes, and we agreed.Now I know what you’re thinking. I can hear exactly what you’re thinking, so I will say now that the boxes were delivered on time and to the correct destination. The County Archivist herself took delivery so God knows what was in them. Peterson, after a series of nudges from me, remembered to hand over Dr Bairstow’s letter of thanks and they gave us a cup of tea. They were lovely people. I wish I worked there. We set off for the return trip, hoping to be back in time for tea, and things started to go wrong almost immediately.Peterson caught my eye. I always think that sounds as if you’ve been indulging in a quick game of eyeball tossing, but I knew what he meant‘So,’ he said, almost casually, negotiating the last roundabout out of town and accelerating away, ‘how are things with you and Hunter?’‘OK,’ said Markham vaguely. ‘I think.’‘Don’t you know?’‘Well, it’s hard to tell sometimes, but I always think if she’s not coming at me with a kidney bowl then, you know, things aren’t too bad.’‘Why would she come at you with a kidney bowl?’‘Because she can’t find a bedpan.’Peterson tried again. ‘So – got any celebrations planned then?’‘What for?’‘Well, you have an anniversary coming up.’‘What anniversary?’‘Wedding. You know. You and Hunter.’There was a long silence from the back. ‘Don’t know what you mean.’‘I worked it out,’ said Peterson in his best I’m Peterson and I’m brilliant voice. ‘I’m looking at Hunter these days and she’s looking very well, isn’t she? Blooming, almost. And she’s a very moral girl is our Hunter. Well, she has to be since you don’t have a single moral to your name, so I reckon you had the ceremony just before or just after the Battle of St Mary’s which means there’s an anniversary coming up.’There was a lot more silence from the back.‘Oh come on,’ said Peterson. ‘Admit I’m right and the then the two of us can buy you a celebratory drink in the bar.’More silence.‘I’m right, aren’t I? Go on – say I’m right.’Even more silence.‘I don’t know why you won’t admit it,’ he said, slightly exasperated. ‘Are you ashamed of something? Wait until I tell Hunter you’re ashamed of her.’He paused, hopefully.Nothing but silence.I pulled down the passenger’s sun flap and looked at the mirror. Markham was sitting with his arms folded and a stupid grin on his face.‘I reckon,’ said Peterson, ‘the two of you snuck into the Register Office without telling anyone but I’m going to make you tell me just the same.’Silence.‘Right,’ he said. ‘You asked for it. Hold on tight, Max.’We swerved off the road into a field, skidding to a halt in a shower of dust, stones and indignant birds.‘What are we doing here?’ said Markham, picking himself up off the back seat and peering out of the window.‘We’re staying here until you tell us.’ He switched off the engine and folded his arms. ‘Not another yard until you tell us the truth.’Markham folded his arms. ‘Never.’I began to make plans for spending the rest of my life in a field.The silence dragged on, only to be broken by the sounds of Markham getting out.‘Where are you going?’ I said, in some alarm. ‘We’re still not supposed to go anywhere alone.’‘Well I’m not staying here with you two maniacs. If you want to sit in a field you can do it on your own. I’m off.’We watched him walk across the field and out of the gate.‘Bollocks,’ said Peterson.‘Well, that worked, didn’t it?’‘Bollocks,’ he said again.‘Look, why don’t you just check the records at Somerset House? It’s a simple enough process.’‘That’s not the point. I want him to tell me.’I surveyed the vast, empty field. ‘How’s that working out for you?’He cursed again and switched on the engineMarkham was a couple of hundred yards up the road. We passed his plodding figure with a merry toot of the horn.‘It’s four miles back to St Mary’s,’ I said, watching him recede in the wing mirror.‘Do him good.’‘Ronan,’ I said warningly. ‘We shouldn’t leave him alone.’‘No,’ he said reluctantly. ‘You’re right. We shouldn’t.’We pulled into a layby and waited.He never came.We waited some more.‘For crying out loud,’ said Peterson. ‘I know he’s Security Section, but surely even he can’t have got lost between there and here.’I sighed. ‘I’ll go and look for him. He might just be taking a rest.’‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, getting out. ‘No one should be alone, remember?’‘Markham,’ I said accusingly. ‘We left him alone.’‘He doesn’t count.’We walked to the bend and looked. The road was empty. We could see for miles. No Markham. Not anywhere.‘Shit,’ I said. We rotated slowly. Where could he be?‘He’s cut across the fields,’ said Peterson. ‘Hang on.’ He climbed onto the car roof and surveyed the flat countryside. The flat, empty countryside.‘Shit,’ I said again, beginning to panic. ‘We’ve lost him.’‘We can’t have,’ he said, climbing down.‘Then where is he? Oh my God, we’ve lost Markham.’‘Look,’ he said. ‘The little sod’s in a ditch somewhere. Either he fell in and hurt himself – perfectly possible – or he’s hiding under a hedge to teach us a lesson. We’ll go and find him, kick the living shit out of him for frightening us like this, and then he can buy us a drink afterwards.’I looked up. It was the only direction left. ‘Do you think he’s been snatched by aliens?’‘Always a possibility,’ he said, locking the car. ‘Although if so then they’ll be returning him in a hurry any minute now.’‘No, seriously,’ I said as we set off, him on one side of the narrow lane and me on the other. I peered into ditches and looked under hedges. ‘It’s the only explanation. You hear about this sort of thing all the time. You know – anal probing.’‘For God’s sake, Max, get a grip. Why on earth would super intelligent beings cross the vastness of space just to firkle around in Markham’s bottom area. Would you?’‘God, no.’‘Well there you are, then. Anything your side?’‘Nothing. Where could he be?’‘I don’t know, but it’s four miles back to St Mary’s.’It was at that moment we heard the car start up. We stood paralysed for a moment and then Peterson screamed, ‘Bastard,’ and set off at a run. I pounded along behind him and we raced back around the bend just in time to see Markham pull out of the layby. He waved, gave us a merry toot, and sped away out of sight.We skidded to a halt.‘Didn’t you lock it?’ I said accusingly.‘Of course I did, but it’s bloody Markham, isn’t it? He could hot-wire a rock’.‘It’s four miles back to St Mary’s.’‘He’ll stop around the next bend,’ said Peterson, reassuringly. ‘He’s just teaching us a lesson.’He was and he didn’t.Four bloody miles. With Peterson vowing grim retribution with every step.And we missed tea. less

The First Farrell Family Christmas Max, Leon and Matthew - together at last for Christmas at St Mary's - a time of conspicuous consumption, riotous misbehaviour and the traditional illegal Christmas jump. And this time, it's inter-generational. Donning her unfamiliar mother hat, Max takes Matthew back to 19th century London, where they plan to deliver a parcel of Christmas cheer to his former friends, but find themselves confronting the terrifying Old Ma Scrope in the process... moreThe First Farrell Family Christmas Max, Leon and Matthew - together at last for Christmas at St Mary's - a time of conspicuous consumption, riotous misbehaviour and the traditional illegal Christmas jump. And this time, it's inter-generational. Donning her unfamiliar mother hat, Max takes Matthew back to 19th century London, where they plan to deliver a parcel of Christmas cheer to his former friends, but find themselves confronting the terrifying Old Ma Scrope in the process. 'Tis the season to be jolly. It's also the season of goodwill towards all mankind. Pity no one told Max. less

Behind the seemingly innocuous facade of St. Mary’s Institute of Historical Research, a different kind of academic work is taking place. Just don’t call it “time travel”―these historians “investigate major historical events in contemporary time.” And they aren’t your harmless eccentrics either; a more accurate description, as they ricochet around history, might be unintentional disaster-magnets.From Tudor England to the burning city of Persepolis, from a medieval St... moreBehind the seemingly innocuous facade of St. Mary’s Institute of Historical Research, a different kind of academic work is taking place. Just don’t call it “time travel”―these historians “investigate major historical events in contemporary time.” And they aren’t your harmless eccentrics either; a more accurate description, as they ricochet around history, might be unintentional disaster-magnets.From Tudor England to the burning city of Persepolis, from a medieval St. Mary’s under siege to Victorian Rushford and a very nasty case of gaol fever, Max is struggling to keep her private life intact. There’s an ambitious programme hindered by giant teapots, plus Mrs. Midgely’s objection to dead hamsters in her airing cupboard, and Mr. Markham’s stubborn refusal to reveal his exact marital status.And as if that’s not enough―the unfortunately not leprosy-laden Malcolm Halcombe is back. Admittedly, none of this is the most secure platform from which to launch an initiative to bring down the renegade Clive Ronan, but hey―what’s the worst that could happen? less

Not one to let being banged up in Sick Bay stop her, Max has had a brilliant idea. But she needs Markham to execute it on her behalf. The subject of this cunning plan is Peterson, struggling with another bereavement and not doing very well. What’s needed to get him through it is sympathy, sensitivity, tact and understanding. Step forward Mr Markham, for whom sympathy, sensitivity, etc., are things that happen to other people... moreNot one to let being banged up in Sick Bay stop her, Max has had a brilliant idea. But she needs Markham to execute it on her behalf. The subject of this cunning plan is Peterson, struggling with another bereavement and not doing very well. What’s needed to get him through it is sympathy, sensitivity, tact and understanding. Step forward Mr Markham, for whom sympathy, sensitivity, etc., are things that happen to other people. Combine a fanatic from R&D, a head of Security with his own problems, a steam-pump, two historians who can’t even be in the same room as each other, some fractious Protestants and a large body of very dirty water. Told in Markham’s own words, this is the story of an intervention – St Mary’s style. less

The tenth book in the bestselling Chronicles of St Mary's series which follows a group of tea-soaked disaster magnets as they hurtle their way around History. If you love Jasper Fforde or Ben Aaronovitch, you won't be able to resist Jodi Taylor.You can't change History. History doesn't like it. There are always consequences.Max is no stranger to taking matters into her own hands. Especially when she's had A Brilliant Idea... moreThe tenth book in the bestselling Chronicles of St Mary's series which follows a group of tea-soaked disaster magnets as they hurtle their way around History. If you love Jasper Fforde or Ben Aaronovitch, you won't be able to resist Jodi Taylor.You can't change History. History doesn't like it. There are always consequences.Max is no stranger to taking matters into her own hands. Especially when she's had A Brilliant Idea. Yes, it will mean breaking a few rules, but - as Max always says - they're not her rules.Seconded to the Time Police to join in the hunt for the renegade Clive Ronan, Max is a long way from St Mary's. But life in the future does have its plus points - although not for long.A problem with the Time Map reveals chaos in the 16th century and the wrong Tudor queen on the throne. History has gone rogue, there's a St Mary's team right in the firing line and Max must step up.You know what they say. Hope for the best. But plan for the worst. less

The eleventh book in the bestselling Chronicles of St Mary's series. I would have trusted this man with my life. Until a couple of days ago, anyway.You know what they say - hope for the best, but plan for the worst.Max is quite accustomed to everything going wrong. She's St Mary's, after all. Disaster is her default state. But with her family reunited and a jump to Bronze Age Crete in the works, life is getting back to normal. Well, normal for St Mary's... moreThe eleventh book in the bestselling Chronicles of St Mary's series. I would have trusted this man with my life. Until a couple of days ago, anyway.You know what they say - hope for the best, but plan for the worst.Max is quite accustomed to everything going wrong. She's St Mary's, after all. Disaster is her default state. But with her family reunited and a jump to Bronze Age Crete in the works, life is getting back to normal. Well, normal for St Mary's. And then, following one fateful night at the Tower of London, everything Max thought she knew comes crashing down around her.Too late for plans. The worst has happened. And who can Max trust now? less

Merry Christmas from Jodi Taylor. It's time for St Mary's traditional Christmas jump - even though it's only September...St Mary's has never lacked for enemies, but danger has never been closer to home. A state of war has broken out between St Mary's and the Women's Institute - the Raffia Mafia.Markham, Max, Peterson and Miss Sykes must jump to Restoration London in search of real Christmas pie - the honour of St Mary's is at stake... moreMerry Christmas from Jodi Taylor. It's time for St Mary's traditional Christmas jump - even though it's only September...St Mary's has never lacked for enemies, but danger has never been closer to home. A state of war has broken out between St Mary's and the Women's Institute - the Raffia Mafia.Markham, Max, Peterson and Miss Sykes must jump to Restoration London in search of real Christmas pie - the honour of St Mary's is at stake.At least that how it all begins, but this is St Mary's after all... less