It was a sunny day in Hastings - clear skies, but cold. The English countryside was wild with the colours of October, and also the colours of the Norman and English armies who were happily hacking one-another to pieces on Senlac Hill.

This was the scene that most historians would have gnawed a limb off to witness. Fortunately, such limbless historians were lacking in 1066, and so the battle went on uninterrupted. Until, from the general direction of a certain Saxon king, there came a noise - that of a can slowly crumpling - and a rush of air. The king’s horse whinnied and lurched back, hurling him to the ground. Dazed, he opened his eyes.

The strangest contraption he’d ever seen was now on top of him. Fading into existence. It became solid…

Crack! “Bugger!”

An arrow glanced off the thing. A second ‘bugger’ might have been heard, had that certain Saxon king not perished by it.

Iestyn peered down at the ground. Beyond the door, he couldn’t see much. Jeremiah cursed, attempting to rearrange his forehead on Wanda’s steering wheel.

“I think we hit something,” Iestyn remarked.

“That ‘something’ may have been Harold II…” muttered Jeremiah. “Confound it - that’s the third time this week…”

“Jeremiah,” said The Clock, “may I interrupt?”

Jeremiah groaned. “You may.”

“There seems to be an army of very cross Saxons waving swords at my window,” The Clock explained. “They want to know why we’ve accidentally parked on their monarch.”

Equally baffled was the traffic warden passing by. He examined the car and its unfortunate victim, daubed two yellow lines in the grass, fined them £300 and walked back to 2010, where he was from.