Dead of Winter - James Goss [38]
Behind us, we heard a cough.
‘Hello,’ said a voice. ‘Could I have a word?’
We turned. Standing there was poor Rory Williams. He waved, nervously.
What a funny little man, I thought. His face still looked soft and foolish, even if it was set with determination. Kosov grabbed hold of him, the fog pouring out of his mouth, but I stayed him. Perdita put on an interested smile, and Mr Williams continued.
‘It’s just… well, I thought I’d come and… talk to you. Before it gets… before it gets unpleasant.’ Mr Williams looked as though he wanted to run away. I remember confessing to my father about stealing apples. He was trying desperately hard to be brave. ‘I think the right thing to do, the fair thing to do, is for me to tell you about the Doctor.’
We looked at him. He was offering us just what we wanted. The Sea washed in, The Sea washed out. We waited, eagerly. Some of my charges say that I am not a patient man, but this is not true. A good doctor learns the art of waiting, of letting things play themselves out, of not interfering. Many is the time I have sat up with the dying. I know that they will find peace in the end. But in between sometimes they shout, laugh or cry. It is rare the dying wish to play cards.
Eventually, Mr Williams spoke. ‘Right then,’ he said, eyes darting around the beach. ‘The Doctor. I understand him so well right now, because I’ve had bits of him bubbling around in my head. You see, the thing is, what you’re trying to do, Dr Bloom, is so good. You are trying to cure a terrible disease – and you’ve got so much of it right. Fresh air, clean linen, sterile equipment, lots of rest. But whatever it is that’s in The Sea… it’s wrong, somehow. It’s using you. And, at the moment, it’s simply a difference of opinion between the Doctor and you. You both want the best. You’ve only tried to kill him a couple of times.’
I argued at that grossly unfair accusation. But Mr Williams pressed on, his voice getting firmer. ‘I mean, don’t worry about that. I’ve seen people do much worse to him and at the end of the day he’ll take them out for pizza. He’s very forgiving. The Doctor is brilliant.’
Perdita spoke, her voice carrying across the beach. ‘So is my husband,’ she said warmly. ‘My husband is a wonderful man. Your Doctor wants to keep us in the Dark Ages. My husband is changing the world.’
‘I think that’s rather the problem.’ Mr Williams stopped again. A bird flew overhead, calling out a warning.
‘Go on,’ said my wife, smiling.
‘The thing is, when the Doctor decides something is wrong, he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.’ Mr Williams pulled a face at that, as though worried about something personal. ‘You see… the Doctor always wins. And if he decides that he’s got to stop you, then he will.’ Mr Williams looked at us all, and smiled slightly.
‘Is that it?’ asked Perdita.
He shook his head. ‘I just… You’re doing such good work, and I don’t want to see it all… wasted… just because he…’ Mr Williams stopped and started tracing a pattern in the wet sand with his shoe. ‘Well, he’s not exactly subtle.’
‘Are you threatening us, sir?’ I rumbled.
He shook his head. ‘Oh no. Really, no. I’m just saying… just for once… I’d like a simple life. You know. For the Doctor and the people he’s up against to just sit down, have a chat, sort things out. It’d be a change. Cos I’m getting fed up of the alternative.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Perdita sweetly.
Mr Williams pointed down to the sand. With his foot he’d written the word ‘BOOM’.
‘Anyway…’ He shrugged, no longer nervous, just sad. ‘I wanted to try. I can see it hasn’t worked, but I tried. Just once. And I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that he was right. Because he always is. If it’s all right with you, I’m going to go now – unless you want to knock me out and tie me up or something. Whatever.’ And, looking tiny and miserable, Rory Williams turned and walked away.
I watched him go.
He got a few paces before he stopped. At first I thought he was going to turn around and say something else. Instead, he coughed. And