Doctor Who_ Camera Obscura - Lloyd Rose [82]
Fitz, who had been left alone when Anji went to see whether the Doctor were awake yet, reacted with considerably less composure. His jaw dropped and he sprang to his feet.
‘Dr Chiltern!’ His eye fell on the woman. ‘Miss Jane! Erm, or is it...?’
She tossed her head. ‘What do you think?’ she said in a high, quavering voice.
‘Oh,’ said Fitz. ‘Right. The other one.’
Chiltern was staring placidly and vaguely at the flowers. She sat him gently down at the tea table and shot a suspicious look at Sabbath who, with uncanny lack of notice considering his size, had slipped into the courtyard. ‘Who’s the big boy?’
‘That’s Sabbath,’ said Fitz. ‘This,’ he said to the affronted-looking Sabbath, ‘is Constance Jane’s alter ego.’
‘And who,’ said Sabbath stiffly, ‘is Constance Jane?’
‘She’s a bore,’ said the woman. ‘Never mind about her.’
‘And this,’ Fitz nodded towards Chiltern, who was now watching a rook walk along the top of the courtyard wall, ‘is Dr Nathaniel Chiltern.’
‘Dear me,’ said Sabbath, his good mood returning, ‘this is all rather complicated.’
‘Not half,’ said Fitz unhappily. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked the woman.
‘Where’s the Doctor?’ Having peeled off her gloves, she removed her hat and laid it on the table. ‘And you can order us some lemonade if they have any. I wired ahead for rooms.’
‘How did you know where to come?’ Fitz persisted, but she only sat down at the table and patted Chiltern’s hand. Fitz gave up and went inside. Sabbath moved around to get a good look at Chiltern and the woman. She returned his scrutiny boldly.
‘Sabbath. What kind of a name is that?’
‘At least I have one,’ Sabbath pointed out amiably. ‘What is yours?’
She shrugged. ‘Call me Millie.’
Sabbath smiled; he had rarely met a woman who seemed less like a Millie. He turned his attention to her companion. ‘And how are you, sir?’
Chiltern didn’t respond; he might not even have heard.
‘He’s distracted,’ Millie said defensively.
‘That’s because he’s not all there.’
She glanced at him fearfully. ‘What do you know about that?’
‘Things have been happening,’ said Sabbath. ‘His brother is dead.’
‘What?’ She stood up, her face working. ‘When? How?’
‘Murdered. Last night.’
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No!’ she cried. She ran at Sabbath. He put up his hands, expecting her to pound on his chest, but instead she hit him in the stomach and ran into the inn, weeping. Annoyed rather than hurt, Sabbath looked again at Chiltern. If he’d heard the news about Sebastian’s death, he wasn’t showing it. His eyes were on the flowers again. Sabbath stared at him openly, amazed and not embarrassed to show it. If the Doctor’s theory were correct, then what sat in front of him was only a fragment of a personality, but clothed in the flesh of a complete human being.
‘Not right,’ whispered the Angel-Maker at his elbow.
Sabbath nodded, not looking around. Her unheralded appearances never startled him. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not right at all. But quite extraordinary.’
After Millie had been calmed and given a glass of brandy, everyone crowded into the Doctor’s room to hear her story. She and Anji sat on the bed, with Chiltern in the room’s single chair. The other men stood: Sabbath in a corner with his hands clasped behind him, the Doctor leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, and Fitz sitting on the sill of the open window. The Angel-Maker declined