Ground Plan

Thanks to a marvelous experiment with swan feathers, squid ink, and several melted, plastic rulers done by Professor Rapson of R&D, we no longer have possession of the original ground plan of St Mary's. Also, no one thought to make a photocopy beforehand. Great work, everyone.

As photographs simply cannot do St Mary's justice, the best we could do was give Dr Dowson a voice recorder and a mission, and boy did he deliver. He's been kind enough to provide us with a clear and concise description of our beloved institute, which can be read below. Enjoy!

> *Somewhere on a hill near the charming town of Rushford, populated by, really, a most lovely people, I must say, sits a (many times renovated) centuries old priory by the name of St Mary's. The façade, visible in all its glory all the way from behind the gates, shows a unique mishmash of different architectural styles, ranging from gothic to baroque to art deco. Next to the wrought iron gates stands a little mounted sign with a buzzer that sounds like Big Ben. If you could just ring it, please and thank you. Lovely sound.*
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> *Behind the gates, leading up to the main building, is a nice, long drive, lined with beech trees and rose beds. Some of the species of roses planted there have been on St Mary's grounds for centuries. Isn't that neat? Apologies, I digress. You'll find the priory's little graveyard and a large lake to your right which can be accessed by our, uh, well, the jetty might actually not be eligible to be called a jetty anymore. Courtesy of Professor Rapson, of course. Anyway, there's also a grand terrace that's perfect for afternoon tea. I'll ask Mrs Mack for some extra crumpets.*
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> *Please don't mention the scorched patches of lawn to Dr Bairstow, that experiment is not yet finished. We wouldn't want to have to fill in Deductions From Wages to Pay for Damages Incurred forms in triple quantity once it is. Usually, as seems to be the case right now, the lawn to the left is used by the Security and Technical sections for a game of either footy or rugby, depending on their mood. It looks as if Mr Markham has just had the bright idea of introducing a horse to his team. Oh, dear.*
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> *Watch out for the fourth step on the stairs leading up to the front door, it's cracked. No, SPOHB won't repair or replace it. We've asked. You'll enter St Mary's through our handy little vestibule, where one of our kind security guards will wand you, and step into the Hall. It's magnificent, truly. I particularly enjoy walking through at night, when the stars are visible through the glass lantern. At the end of the hall stands a wide staircase, complete with landing, that branches off left and right to the gallery visible from down here. You'll do well to wait for someone to come and act as your guide, for safe passage. Do not, I must repeat, DO NOT go wandering off on your own. You might encounter a wild R&D officer, and you don't want that. Believe me.*
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> *Up here on the gallery, as you can surely see, are a number of doors to our different departments. Don't worry, you won't get lost on your way from one department to another; all the doors have handy little plaques with their names on them! Like Wardrobe, where you can see our lovely Mrs Enderby toiling away at a seventeenth century gown. Excellent work, Mrs Enderby. Next door is Research and Development, easily the bane of anyone's existence. Good morning, Professor Rapson. No, I would not like to see how easy it is to burn through a wooden surface with- bollocks! Jamie! Jamie, my boy, go and warn the librarians! I'm right behind you!*
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> *Yes, thank you, Jamie. Go fetch one of those Deductions from Wages forms for the professor before you nip back up, please. So, this is the library, then. We're situated right below R&D, as you might have guessed. I won't show you our aisle on the French renaissance, it's a bit... well, you heard what happened just now. The archives are through that archway, but you probably won't need to go there. It's got a protected atmosphere, you see; can't be too careful with old, vulnerable manuscripts and scrolls. You understand.*
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> *On the other side of the hall, below the gallery of course, you can go through this hallway here and end up in our dining area. The kitchen is in excellent condition, just like Mrs Mack. No, I didn't mean it like that. Yes, I'll stop now. Yes, I'll have my tea on the terrace, please, Mrs Mack. Thank you. The dining room is right through here, and on the other side of the hallway are our bar and lounge area. You'll spend a lot of time in there, I reckon. Most of us do. The terrace can be accessed through the double doors in the dining room. As you can see, it's got a marvelous view of the lake and the surrounding moors. We're forbidden from venturing out there. Such a shame.*
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> *If we go back all the way to the Great Hall, like so, you'll notice I completely skipped that hallway in the wall behind the landing of the stairs to the gallery. I must confess I did so on purpose; it's not my favourite place to be. It's much more modern, you see.* *No stained glass medieval windows down there, and it doesn't echo as much when you walk through it. I suppose we have to go there for the ground plan, but I'd much rather show you the History Department, or the little chapel. Actually, now that I think about it...*
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> *This is the History Department.* *There's lots and lots of data tables, whiteboards, sleep deprived Historians, bookcases, stacks of books that should be in said bookcases, and more bright-eyed historians. Hello, Miss Schiller, what are you working on today? The Battle of Zappolino? Oh, yes, I would know an awful lot about that, yes. No, I've no time right now. I'm making the new ground plan. Yes, without a scratchpad. No, it's a voice recorder; Polly Perkins from IT gave it to me. Nifty little bugger. I'll leave you and Zappolino alone, now. Take care.*
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> *Next to the hallway to the dining area is a set of stairs that leads to the director's office. I won't go there, I'm pretty sure Jamie is still with Dr Bairstow trying to explain what's leaking through my library ceiling. Not a great time for a visit, though we can always say hello to Mrs Partridge. Hello, Mrs Partridge. No, no, the lawn is fine. I'm sure that's just natural oxidation, happens all the time. Rusty grass, yes, exactly. Professor Rapson will explain soon enough. Goodbye, Mrs Partridge.*
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> *Now, then. The unpleasant hallway in the wall behind the landing. Or as everyone here calls it, Hawking Hangar. It lies behind the main building so as to obscure it from view a bit, you know, preserve the original façade of the priory. If you enter these double doors at the end, you'll walk into the foyer. It's most aptly described as the middle ground between the theoretical and practical fields of research done here at St Mary's. Next to the entrance is the elevator to Sick Bay. There's a men's and a women's ward, and at the front here are Dr Foster's office, the nurses' station and the storage area. I'll just nip back, now. I can hear nurse Hunter chasing Mr Markham across the hall and, oh no, not in here- aargh!*
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> *Goodness. Well. I hope he'll be all right. Let's go through those great blast doors on the other side...*
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> *Welcome to Hawking Hanger. It's a great big space, much like the Hall, but it's got a much colder atmosphere. At the end you can spot two glassed spaces; that's the IT department, and the other one is for the Technical Section. I don't really bother going there, but you might. Oh, good day, Chief Farrell. Yes, it's all very exciting! I can't wait for Dr Maxwell's report on the construction of the Taj Mahal, I'm sure it'll be a blast. Oh, yes, I do believe she'll have been very careful. 'No mistakes this time,' she told me before she went. All the best, Chief.*
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> *And now for the best part of this dreaded space: the pods! All eight of them have their own plinths, it makes them easy to identify. I know they look like small shacks, but that's kind of the point. We can't be zapping up and down the timeline in a bright green fuse box, now can we? It would stand out far too much for our liking. We're investigating major historical events in contemporary time, not battling aliens.* *Well, I rather think that was about it.*
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> *Oh, hold on, here comes pod eight! It's zapping into existence right before my very eyes! But, that's not number eight's plinth, that's Miss Barclay's office- I think I'd better get out of here.*
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> *Goodbye, young one, and good luck to you.*
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We hope that was as satisfactory as a normal ground plan. If you've any tips for improvement, Miss Barclay is not in the mood right now.