Doctor Who_ Bad Therapy - Matthew Jones [92]
‘Tilda, it’s not a raid. Honestly,’ he shouted, gritting his teeth as he pushed against the door. ‘Please let us in: it’s important. I know who’s killing your people. Moriah’s behind it all. He’s kidnapped Dennis. I need your help to save them.’
The woman must have moved away from the door, because the Doctor suddenly tumbled into the room, landing in a clownish mess in the middle of the floor. Harris poked his head into the club and then made a more cautious entrance.
The room stank of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol. No one had bothered to clear up from the previous night and wineglasses littered the tables.
Brimming ashtrays had erupted their debris over the surfaces. There was little ventilation and no fire exits. Harris screwed up his face; the place was a positive death trap.
The woman called Tilda Jupp had hurried over to one of several old sofa’s in the room. She tore away a blanket which covered the sofa, revealing two young men beneath. They were dressed only in their vests, underpants and socks, and were fast asleep, their arms casually draped around each other.
Harris flushed and looked away. Bloody Hell! What next, for Heaven’s sake?
‘Attention!’ Tilda barked and the two lads opened their bleary eyes.
‘Leave it out, Mother,’ one of the boys groaned. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’
‘Better get your frocks on, daughters, unless you fancy picking oakum into the next century. It’s a raid.’ When they caught sight of Harris the two young 156
men swore, expressions of utter horror crossing their faces. Panic stricken, they scrambled to their feet, grabbed their clothes and, without pausing to dress, scurried out through a curtained doorway at the back of the club.
‘Best barmaids in London,’ Tilda remarked, watching their retreating backs.
‘At least they would be if that Andrew didn’t guzzle half my profits. Honestly, she drinks a quarter of a bottle of my gin, tops it up with water and expects no one to notice. Must think I came down with the last shower. Saeed’s an angel, well, besides trying to get poked by half the punters that come through that door. But besides that: perfect. Wouldn’t know where I’d be without those girls.’
‘I’m sure,’ the Doctor muttered, impatiently. ‘Tilda, it’s really not a raid –
the inspector is only here in an informal capacity.’
‘A what?’
The Doctor waved away her incredulity. ‘He’s here as a friend. We’re planning an expedition to Healey, to the Institute. The Major said you could help.
Will you come?’
Tilda looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. ‘Go back there? You’ve got to be joking, Doctor. Do you know what Moriah would do to me?’
‘Yes,’ the Doctor said, and walked over to her. ‘Yes, I do.’ Harris watched as the little man traced his fingers gently around the base of her neck. ‘He’d make two incisions here –’
Tilda grabbed hold of his hands and angrily pushed them away from her throat. ‘Don’t. That’s not remotely amusing. Just. . . don’t.’ Harris thought she looked angry enough to hit the little man. Angry or scared enough.
‘That’s what he is going to do to Dennis unless we stop him,’ the Doctor said, evenly. ‘That’s what he’s going to keep on doing to your people, unless we stop him.’
‘We can’t fight him,’ Tilda hissed. ‘You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘No, I don’t,’ the Doctor said. ‘But you do. And that’s why I need your help.
That’s why Jack, Mikey, Dennis and probably Chris do too.’
‘Your friend Christopher?’ Tilda glanced at her watch. ‘He and Patsy ought to have made it back by now. I wonder what’s keeping them?’
The Doctor’s brow furrowed. ‘You could come with us and find out.’
Tilda appeared to come to a decision. ‘Very well.’
‘Good, let’s get back to the TARDIS.’
Tilda frowned. ‘TARDIS. Is that your mode of transport? I’ll bet mine is faster.’
‘Faster than a time machine?’ the Doctor smiled. ‘I doubt it.’
‘It’s parked around the back. Come on, I’ll show you.’
∗ ∗ ∗
157
Chris waited in the cab while Patsy checked to see if Mother was at the Tropics.
He looked up