Doctor Who_ Bad Therapy - Matthew Jones [117]
Jack knew that the Doctor hadn’t sent out the invitations. In the end, only about forty people had turned up for Tilda’s party. All of them couples: mothers and sons, brothers and sisters, lovers. Jack had no idea how they had known to come here. He wondered if the Toys had some kind of link to each other. Watching them, Jack was a little envious of the sense of community in the air. They didn’t look like they had come to a party. They looked like they had made a pilgrimage to some strange, non-canonical church. He recognized several of them from evenings he had spent at the Tropics with Eddy.
He found himself speculating which of the pair was the Toy and which was the human being. They looked lost in the large dancehall, as they stood in pairs behind the statuesque mannequins who lined the edge of the dancefloor.
202
The dancefloor itself was dark and empty, save for a single spotlight focused on Tilda and a motionless, costumed figure. The chorus of the song began, Jack noticed that Patsy sang these words more confidently or perhaps just with greater feeling:
Not a day
I wouldn’t last a single day
Without your tender love
My dear
As the chorus of the song got underway, Tilda began a simple and yet elegant dance around the statue. Occasionally, her hand would lightly caress the still figure as she moved slowly to the rhythm of the music, twisting her body and describing large circles in the air with her hands.
Jack found himself willing the mannequin to respond. Suddenly, he realized the probable result of his thoughts and he hurriedly retreated to the other side of the door to the dancehall.
After what seemed an age, the costumed figure, tentatively, began to respond to Tilda’s movements, swaying to the gentle rhythm of the song. After a few minutes, Tilda and the costumed figure were dancing in each other’s arms. The song spiralled to a dramatic climax and the two dancers paused, standing facing each other in silence.
Carefully, Tilda removed the straps of the painted mask which the mannequin was wearing, to reveal the face of a beautiful young man. His skin was coal-black and his eyes, large and oval; they shone with intelligence. He reached towards Tilda, slipping his hand around the back of her neck, and pulling her gently towards him. Their kiss was met with a splattering of ap-plause from the other Toys and their friends.
Jack became aware of movement close by him. The Doctor was dabbing at his forehead with his handkerchief. He saw Jack staring at him and smiled, looking visibly relieved by what he had just witnessed take place on the dancefloor.
The torch song was replaced with heady, Latin music, and soon the party was in full swing. The dancefloor full of twisting, twirling figures. Everyone but Jack was dancing in the room. Even the Doctor allowed himself to be pulled on to the dancefloor and shuffled, a little selfconsciously next to Tilda.
Jack smiled to himself; it was a relief to know that the Doctor wasn’t an expert at everything. All of the newly awakened Toys gave the little man a wide berth. Jack tried to picture what sort of person the Doctor might bring to life, but he couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might be like.
Jack watched as the last frozen statue jerked into life and begin to dance, clumsily at first, to the intoxicating rhythms. The last of the Toys come alive.
203
‘Goodbye Eddy,’ Jack whispered as a chapter of his life closed for ever.
He was about to slip away, when he saw a figure in a Harlequin costume push its way through the crowd on the dancefloor and head straight for him.
Shocked by the costumed figure’s determination, Jack backed into the hallway of Ronnie Scott’s.
Had he been standing too close to the toys and activated one by accident?
He felt ashamed, exposed, and a little excited as the figure cut a path directly towards him. Could this be Eddy