Dead of Winter - James Goss [42]
And suddenly I was over two hundred years away from all that. I was just sat in a chair, sipping sherry and fighting for every breath. It was all a bit confusing. There was also an odd feeling. Like the grimness of it all was pressing down on me. Like I was dying, right there, so far away from home, from Amy.
‘How long do I have?’
Why did I even ask that?
Dr Bloom chuckled and patted my hand. Not in a patronising way. ‘My dear fellow, you mustn’t give up hope already. You are in the very best place for this. This is your very first attack, yes?’
He leaned over me, and pressed his ear to my chest. ‘Hmmm. The left aureoles are rupturing. Don’t worry about that as a phrase. It’s all good. All good. So long as we know. Just breathe and breathe.’
‘Can you stop the coughing?’ I asked. It’s actually really very horrible coughing up blood. True fact.
He shook his head sadly. ‘It will pass. Just let it pass. Drink. Relax. You are in very capable hands, Mr Williams.’
I sank back into the chair. Suddenly I saw them all. Mrs Bloom looking so kind. Kosov stern. Dr Bloom eager.
‘What will happen to me?’
Dr Bloom sat there. ‘Don’t worry. Just relax.’ He patted my hand, and it felt good.
I was very ill. I was in a time without antibiotics. Without aspirin. I was so scared. I drank the sherry, feeling it burn the back of my throat.
‘How… how have I got this?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘I am afraid you are… Well, this is a clinic. You are surrounded by the sick.’
I nodded at that. What a stupid thing to ask. Of course I’d become infected.
‘Amy!’ I cried. ‘Please, find my wife. Find my wife and tell her.’
Dr Bloom nodded. All games were off. ‘Of course. It’s the least we can do. Where should dear Kosov look? I should hate to have him traipsing fruitlessly through the clinic.’
‘Prince Boris’s room.’
‘Ah, yes. Of course.’
Kosov nodded, and left the room.
Dr Bloom leaned closer. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Williams. You are in good hands. Just lean back and relax. The fit will pass and then we can begin the treatment.’
I was so scared. I was so scared.
I had a sudden thought – the Doctor wouldn’t let me die, would he? Not back here in history? It would be so easy for him to just nip into the TARDIS, grab a few pills and…
And then I realised. I could imagine the look on the Doctor’s face when he found out. Because I had already seen it. Sad and angry.
Would he save me or leave me lying there?
Because I am just a banana skin on the ground.
A Letter from Mr Nevil
St Christophe
7th December 1783
Dear Octavius,
Is there anything so unaccountable as woman? You would think that anyone would be pleased that a fellow is feeling a bit better and no longer breathes like a broken bellows. But no! Not our precious Miss Olivia Elquitine. The dashed hussy actually gave me the Cut Absolute when I met her in the breakfast room earlier.
Her froideur is quite unaccountable! Simply because I am going down to that beach. It’s a rough bit of cheddar that she’s not allowed down there, but I have spoken to Mrs Bloom about it and apparently the treatment just isn’t available to everyone. Which is a real shame – especially as Miss Elquitine’s thin sister is allowed down there.
I cornered Olivia by the pastries and tried reasoning with her, but she wasn’t having any of it.
‘I am pleased at your good health, sir,’ she said coldly, deftly unclasping herself from my hand.
‘But blast it, Olivia,’ I protested, flushing as I used her first name. ‘I just want you to be happy for me!’
‘You have nothing but my kindest regards, Mr Nevil.’ She managed a chilly little bow. Why, if someone treated me like that in the House of Commons, I would knock the fellow down without a second thought!
Instead, I kept my head. ‘It’s a deuced shame that you’re not allowed down there, my girl, but I can intercede with the Blooms. I am not without