Dead of Winter - James Goss [72]
‘Madame Bloom is right,’ Maria’s mother said to me, her eyes shining with tears. ‘Perhaps you might stay on.’ She paused, her face showing that she was in two minds. ‘I suppose… I suppose she must, mustn’t she, Dr Bloom?’ She faltered, indecision clear on her face.
My Perdita simply nodded, gripping hold of the girl by the shoulders as Maria’s mother climbed into that carriage and drove away.
Maria’s last words to her were, ‘I may write to you, Mother, mayn’t I?’
All this I remembered with sadness.
‘Her mother was one of my earliest patients, Doctor. When she got well… she left Maria behind. It was almost like she got well so as to get away from her, from the pain of seeing her again. It was too much for her.’
The Doctor’s voice was hollow and so sad. ‘Maria has no idea, does she?’
‘The poor woman fell ill soon after losing her daughter. The Sea was able to read her ever so well. It gave her back her daughter. Who healed her.’
The Doctor sat down on a chair, staring at me. Holding that last letter.
‘I’m sorry, Doctor. Maria is just a creature of The Sea. She’s not real.’
A Letter from Maria
St Christophe
10th December 1783
Dear Mother,
It’s quiet around here, except for the coughing. I’m so lonely – now that the Doctor and Amy and Rory are going away. Can I come home now? I miss you so much. I don’t want to be here alone.
Your ever loving
Maria
Epilogue: The Story of Rory
You know what? The Doctor doesn’t always get it right, and he doesn’t save everyone. Sometimes it’s like Amy’s blind to that. She can see him, shining like the angel on a Christmas tree – she just doesn’t see how hard his eyes sometimes are, and how he sometimes keeps on laughing when the joke’s stopped being funny.
That last morning, Amy came running up from the beach to say that the TARDIS had reappeared from wherever it went to. The Doctor rushed down there immediately, obviously. He tried to act like he was all nonchalant and didn’t care, but really he was off like a shot. I suppose it’s his home and his oldest friend. When Amy and I are long gone, he’ll still have his magic blue Narnia cupboard.
I stayed, for one last breakfast. I’d like to say it was for the food, but really it was to say goodbye to all the people the Doctor’s forgotten about. The Elquitine sisters came to my table. Olivia was wheezing away. Her sister was so weary and looked like a bony broom.
Mr Nevil hovered nearby. I’d noticed he couldn’t leave Olivia alone. Kind of sweet – the old tartar was mellowing. He looked like he wanted to intercede, but Olivia warded him off with a stern glance. What she had to say was family business.
They sat at my table with difficulty. ‘Young man, I hear you’re leaving us?’
I nodded.
‘Well, then,’ she said, folding her hands tightly. ‘My sister has something to say. Something for the Doctor. Can you pass it on?’
I nodded again. I realised I’d never heard Helena speak.
‘She’s been saving her breath up for him,’ said Olivia, proudly. ‘But I suspect he’s not coming back, is he?’
I realised the truth of it as soon as she said it. ‘No,’ I replied.
She nodded tightly.
The thin sister reached forward, grabbing my hand in her bony claw. ‘Tell him… Tell him… I hate him,’ she said, and leaned back, panting and exhausted from the effort.
‘Goes for me, too,’ said Olivia, reaching for a pastry.
I headed down to the beach, where Maria and Amy were running around on the sand. Amy broke away and grabbed me in a hug. ‘That’s my Rory boy!’ she said, giving me a squeeze.
‘It really is freezing down here,’ I said.
‘And that’s my Rory boy complaining,’ said Amy, nudging Maria, who laughed.
Maria looked at the TARDIS. Clearly the Doctor was inside. ‘Is that really your carriage?’ She asked. ‘It is not very good, monsieur. It has