Doctor Who_ Bad Therapy - Matthew Jones [126]
An image of the Doctor proudly polishing the paint-work on Sunday afternoons popped into Gilliam’s head. Somehow the idea of the Doctor owning something as mundane as a car seemed so absurd. She tried to imagine what sort of vehicle the Doctor, might drive. It wasn’t easy. ‘I didn’t know you owned a car,’ Gilliam said, hoping it wasn’t some obvious penis extension like a Porche.
The Doctor grinned, and as if reading her thoughts said: ‘It’s a vintage model, but it doesn’t go often.’
She laughed. ‘That sounds about right. Are you sure you don’t need some company for this trip?’
219
The Doctor shook his head vigorously. ‘No, no. I can’t afford any distractions. None at all.’ He indicated the Petruska mannequin which stood patiently by the exit of the Tropics, still dressed in the white tunic of a hospital orderly. ‘I’m going to have to be in constant empathic contact with Nurse Petruska here. It’s going to be quite an effort to allow Petruska to love Moriah. Any interruption will allow Moriah’s unconscious guilt to tip the balance and turn her against him. He’s been his own worst enemy throughout his work to recreate his wife. On some level he must want her to reject him, so she does. I imagine that somewhere deep inside of himself he believes that he deserves her hatred.’
‘Well he does,’ Gilliam said, with feeling. ‘What will you do even if he does accept your copy of her?’
‘Try and persuade him to use the gateway to leave Earth. Send him somewhere where he won’t cause anyone any more trouble.’
‘Not back home to Kr’on Tep, then?’
‘Oh no. I think that Yr’canos can probably do without Moriah returning and trying to reclaim his throne, don’t you?’
Gilliam didn’t say anything. She watched as the Doctor led Moriah’s bride down the back staircase of the Tropics to begin his mission, just as his young friend Jack staggered in through the front door. His left eye was swollen a painful shade of purple. His face was full of panic and concern.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, looking at Tilda. ‘Have you seen the Doctor?’ He caught sight of the Doctor and his companion leaving and headed over to them. ‘Wait!’
Gilliam intercepted him. ‘Hang on, Jack. The Doctor’s busy. What’s going on?’
Jack was looking past her at the Doctor’s disappearing back. ‘I ran into the Scratons. Gordy was after Dennis – said he was gonna kill him. Notting Hill’s in pieces. It’s chaos. Worse than around here.’ Jack hurried through his explanations, eager to follow the Doctor. ‘Where’s he off to?’
‘He’s taking Tilda’s car to Healey. To the Institute.’
‘What? He’s gonna fight Moriah?’ Jack stared at Gilliam, his face contorted into a sneer. ‘And you let him go on his own? What kind of a friend are you?’
‘It’s not like that. This is the way the Doctor wanted it. He’s got a plan.’
‘And you believed him? He was just trying to keep you out of danger. Make it easy for you to back out of going with him. What a coward! No wonder he dumped you before.’
The nerve he touched was too raw. Gilliam had spent too many nights tossing and turning under the desert sky wondering what she had done to make the Doctor abandon her without a word. She’d slapped the youth across the side of his face before she’d realized that she was angry with him.
220
Jack gave a little yelp – Gilliam winced – she’d caught his injured eye.
‘Christ, Jack, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –’
His already puffy eye began to bleed, a thick red tear rolling down his cheek.
He wiped away the tear, looking shocked when he glimpsed the red stain on the back of his hand.
He backed away from her, breathing in short, shallow gasps. ‘You’re worse than. . . than the Scratons, or even Moriah. At least I know which side they’re on.’
‘Jack. . . ’ Gilliam started, wanting to make him understand, but the youth had already turned and stumbled out of the Tropics.
The Doctor reappeared at the back of the club a moment later and looked between Tilda and Gilliam. ‘I heard shouting. I thought it was Jack’s voice. Is everything all right?’
‘You just missed him. He’s upset that