Doctor Who_ Camera Obscura - Lloyd Rose [83]
After she had helped him replace his brother, Sebastian Chiltern, had, in Millie’s words, thrown her out. He expected her to return to America, but instead she had gone to stay with Mrs Hemming, pretending to be Constance Jane, and planning to persuade Chiltern to take her back, by blackmailing him if necessary. With this in mind, she had visited the clinic daily, without ever being allowed to see him. But the day they told her he had gone away for a while, she took hope, because, in an unguarded moment, he had told her about the family home on Dartmoor. It had not been difficult, with her knowledge of the clinic and its schedule, for her to help Nathaniel Chiltern to escape – at this point in the story, everyone in the room looked at Chiltern, who, gazing out the window past Fitz, clearly had no idea he had escaped anywhere – and bring him with her.
Millie was vague about why she had bothered to bring Chiltern along and perhaps only Sabbath was both sophisticated and cynical enough to guess that she had hoped to transfer her frustrated and desperate attachment from Sebastian to his more pliable brother. If that were the case, Sabbath observed to himself, she had undoubtedly failed: Nathaniel Chiltern hardly had the concentration to walk, much less perform as a lover. Sabbath’s eyes flicked to the Doctor: possibly he had guessed too. It was hard to gauge his understanding of these matters, but he had seen a great deal of human behaviour and appeared to have been shocked by none of it.
The Doctor, as usual, was unreadable, listening to Millie’s account with his head down, only occasionally raising it to glance at Chiltern. Millie herself was defiant and studiedly unashamed – sitting next to her, Anji suspected that, for all her aggression and unchecked libido, Miss Jane’s alternate self had got in over her head.
‘This all started with you,’ Millie was saying to the Doctor in her queer, unstable voice. ‘You were the one at the seance who... who...’
‘Who what?’ said the Doctor mildly, his pale eyes fixed on hers. Sabbath watched him closely. ‘What did I do?’
‘You were... you were just there!’ she said sulkily. ‘And it all started to happen.’
‘Really?’ said the Doctor curiously. ‘Is that how it was? That’s quite intriguing. Inexplicable, of course, but definitely intriguing. You were in a trance, you know, when we first met. Perhaps you saw me more clearly that way. Do you think so? How do you perceive things when you’re in a trance? You’re very relaxed, then, aren’t you – not sleepy, just relaxed, and very calm. Nothing can harm you. You’re floating in a warm, safe place, and nothing can harm you, and no questions can alarm you –’
Anji, who had been looking at the Doctor over Millie’s shoulder, suddenly blinked and turned away.
‘– because you’re absolutely safe. Absolutely without fear. Absolutely relaxed.’
Anji almost fell off the bed as Millie slumped against her. ‘Doctor!’
The Doctor was on his feet and had Millie’s hand. She straightened. Her eyelids fluttered and closed. The Doctor touched the centre of her forehead gently. ‘It’s all right,’ he said softly. Without taking his eyes from her face, he addressed the rest of the room: ‘If you’d give us some privacy...’
Anji and Fitz led Chiltern out. Sabbath didn’t move.
‘That was quite impressive. Did you learn the technique, or did you already possess it?’
‘I believe it’s intrinsic. I don’t know of course.’ The Doctor pulled the chair up to the bed and sat down. ‘I gather you want to stay.’
‘If you please,’ said Sabbath drily.
The Doctor shrugged. ‘Just don’t interrupt.’ He leaned forward and took the hypnotised woman’s hands. ‘Millie, it’s the Doctor. I have a question. Please try very hard to remember. Will you do that?’
‘Yes,’ she said, eyes still shut.
‘Did Dr Chiltern – either of them – ever mention another home? Some house or flat or place he might have gone to other than the one on Dartmoor?’ She shook her head. The Doctor’s voice took on a faintly desperate edge. ‘Are you sure?’ She nodded. The Doctor briefly bit his lip. ‘All