Doctor Who_ Bad Therapy - Matthew Jones [97]
Mikey leant over him, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder, and began to cry.
Horrible deep sobs that made his body shudder as they fought their way out of his chest. ‘What am I gonna do, Jack? What am I gonna do?’
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Jack’s neck was wet with tears. He wanted to pull Mikey into his arms, suddenly furious that he wasn’t able to comfort his friend. ‘It’s OK,’ he whispered, over and over again. ‘The Doctor will come, he’ll save Dennis, he’ll save us all.’
Perhaps if he said it enough times, then he could will it true.
Footsteps. Coming closer. The light under the door of the cell was blocked by someone standing outside. Someone or something. Jack pushed his back into the soft padding of the wall behind him. Had the creatures come for them?
Voices. One of them was a woman’s – upper class and terribly affected, like an overzealous actress in amateur dramatics. ‘Look Lilly,’ she barked, ‘I said I’d been here before, I did not say I was a qualified tour guide.’
‘Madam,’ a second, male voice growled, ‘would you please stop calling me that.’ Jack thought he recognized both voices, although he couldn’t place them.
‘Ssh, both of you,’ a third voice added, sounding impatient and frustrated.
‘This is supposed to be a covert operation, a rescue. Do you want to bring more of Moriah’s creatures down upon us?’
Jack would have known those rolling R’s and that soft Scottish burr anywhere. ‘Doctor!’ he shouted. ‘Doctor!’
‘Jack?’
The door opened, filling the darkened cell with light. Silhouetted in the doorway was the reassuring outline of a small man, wearing a fedora hat and holding an umbrella with a question mark for a handle. The new light made Jack’s eyes water. Either that or he’d burst into tears. He couldn’t be sure and he was too pleased to see the Doctor to worry about whether or not anyone thought he was crying.
‘You came,’ he said, simply.
‘I’m sure it must be visiting time,’ the Doctor smiled, and gave both boys a friendly hug. Just seeing the Doctor filled Jack with hope. The little man’s ice-blue eyes were alive with interest, darting into every corner of the horrible, stained room. ‘I see they’ve given you their full care and attention,’ he quipped, ruffling Jack’s hair with his hand.
Mother and the policeman, Harris, followed the Doctor into the room and set about loosening the straps of the straitjackets. Of course, the arguing voices had belonged to them. It was strange to see Tilda here – Jack had never seen her out of her club. Why had the Doctor brought her with him? How was she involved with this? Looking at her now reminded Jack of the portrait in Moriah’s quarters. The portrait of Queen Petruska. Tilda was avoiding eye contact with the policeman; someone else, Jack thought, who didn’t get along with the grouchy police inspector.
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‘Dennis. Where is he?’ Tilda demanded, holding Mikey by the shoulders.
‘You simply must tell us.’
‘The creatures took him,’ Mikey started, his face wet with tears. ‘The creatures with no face. I tried to stop them but I couldn’t. We’ve got to get to him, stop them hurting him.’
‘We will stop them,’ the Doctor said, and the certainty in his voice made Jack feel warm inside. ‘But first I need to know what’s going on.’
‘Moriah,’ Jack said. ‘It was Moriah.’
‘Bastard!’ Tilda exclaimed.
The Doctor appraised her carefully as he helped Mikey out of the restraint, as if he were about to ask her a question. Tilda frowned at him and moved to the door, to keep watch on the corridor. The Doctor watched her for a moment, as if considering whether to follow her, but then he turned back to Mikey. ‘Tell me about Dennis,’ he said, softly. ‘He’s not really your brother at all, is he?’
Jack was surprised by this question.