Doctor Who_ Daemons - Barry Letts [47]
Miss Hawthorne smiled placatingly. 'You must learn the art of waiting, Sergeant,' she said as she carried the tray carefully across the room and set it on the table. 'The Doctor will come. Or else he won't. And that's all that can be said. Now then, milk or lemon? I shan't let you have any sugar. It's bad for the teeth—not to mention the nerves!'
Benton suddenly grinned. She was right, of course. 'Okay, Miss Hawthorne,' he said,'you win.'
Giving an approving nod, she started to pour the tea.
' Greyhound Three. Greyhound Three. Gome in please. Over. ' The unmistakable tones of Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart filled the room. Benton grabbed his walkie-talkie. ' Hello, Greyhound. This is Greyhound Three, receiving you loud and clear. I've been trying to raise you, sir. Terrible interference. Over. '
' Yes, well, the less said about that the better. I'm seizing the opportunity of a lull to have a quick word with the Doctor Over. '
' Sorry, sir. I don't quite understand. Over. '
' What's the matter with you, Benton? I want to speak to the Doctor. Will you put him on please? Over. '
' But... I thought he was still with you, sir. Over. '
' No, he left here oh, a good forty minutes ago. Hasn't he turned up yet? Over. '
Sergeant Benton suddenly felt very worried. It was all very well to be philosophical, but anything could have happened.
' No, sir, ' he replied. ' Not a sign of him. Do you suppose he's all right, sir?Over. '
The Brigadier sounded equally concerned. ' Maybe he's piled up that wretched motor-bike... '
' Want me to go and look for him, sir? Over. '
There a long silence. Benton spoke once more. ' I say again, shall I lave a shufti round, sir? Over. '
' Yes, yes, I heard you, Sergeant I was thinking. Better give him a bit longer. And if he does turn up, tell him we're running into a bit of trouble with our... our feedback phasing is that right, Osgood? Yes, that's it, Benton . Tell him will you? Greyhound out. '
Before Benton could speak, the a as filled with the same impenetrable interference as before.
'I didn't tell him about the others,' he said, 'I mean, let's face it, Captain Yates should have been back with Miss Grant ages ago—and now the Doctor seems to have disappeared as well.'
'More waiting, I'm afraid, Sergeant,' said Miss Hawthorne, sipping her tea.
'Not on your life, Miss Hawthorne,' said Benton , decisively. 'I'm going to have a nose around that Cavern.'
'Look what happened last time,' said the white witch, putting down her cup. 'It would be much better if you were to stay here and wait for the Doctor. I'll go and look for the others. After all, I can claim a modicum of experience in such matters.'
'I'm sorry, ma'am. No offence, but you'll do as you're told.' He crossed to the window and looked out.
'Anyone in sight, Sergeant?'
'Not a soul. They're keeping under cover, and I can't say I blame them Tell the Doctor where I've gone, will you?'
As he moved to the door, Miss Hawthorne held up her hand. 'Wait... listen...' she said.
Sergeant Benton stopped. Carried on the May Day breeze, the tinkling of fairylike bells, the thin piping of a tin whistle, the clack-clack-clack of wooden staves...
'What is it?' breathed the Sergeant, prepared by now to believe anything. If this was Titania, Queen of the Fairies, come to pay her respects to the awakened Dæmon, okay, let her come. Just as long as she kept out of his way. He'd got quite enough on his plate, thank you.
'It's the Morris dancers,' said Miss Hawthorne.
'Morris dancers!' exclaimed the Sergeant, joining her at the window.
'It's May Day. We always have the Morris dancers on May Day.'
Round the far corner a little procession appeared, headed by the traditional dancers of the Morris, with their hats and ribbons, their bells and their staffs. Leading them was the piper and a squat raggedy character apparently made of bits of torn paper. Equipped with the ancient jester's bladder on a short stick this Paper-Man capered round, his unruliness contrasting with the formality of the figures traced by the dancers