Doctor Who_ Deep Blue - Mark Morris [19]
„Well, no, not really, sir. Oh, apart from Elkins‟s light, of course.‟
„Elkins‟s light?‟
„Yes, sir. I thought you knew about all that.‟
„Remind me.‟
The constable gave him a curious look, but dutifully recounted the story.
„Very interesting,‟ said the Doctor, staring distractedly into the middle distance. Abruptly he snapped out of his semi-trance and said, „Anything else?‟
„No, sir, not really. There‟s been a higher level of violent incident than is usual for even this time of year around the Sands these past couple of weeks, but that‟s most likely a sign of the times than anything.‟
„Most likely,‟ echoed the Doctor. „Well, thank you for your help, Constable.‟
„Not at all, sir.‟
The Doctor half-turned away, then something seemed to occur to him and he smiled. „Oh, one final thing. I don‟t suppose Mr Yates left a contact address by any chance?‟
The first day of Charlotte Maybury‟s holiday had not been a good one. Despite the sunshine and the change of scenery, her parents had continued to bicker and her brother to mooch sullenly along in their wake.
By 6 p.m. Charlotte was exhausted, her stoically cheerful veneer close to cracking. She felt as if she had spent the day holding at bay two combatants who were determined to rip chunks out of each other. Her various suggestions - Sea Life Centre, crazy golf, beach - had been met with a distinct lack of enthusiasm from her mum and dad and a sort of contemptuous indifference from Chris. In the end they had simply shuffled aimlessly from one location to another, forcing down ice-creams and fizzy drinks and cups of tea at regular intervals merely because it seemed the thing to do.
Now they were meandering back to the boarding house and Charlotte was looking forward to a warm bath and a bit of peace and quiet in the privacy of her room.
They were walking past a fish and chip restaurant called The Happy Plaice when her dad, Tony, halted. „Who fancies haddock and chips?‟ he said.
Imogen shot him a disdainful look. „Don‟t you ever say anything sensible?‟
Tony rolled his eyes. „What‟s your problem now, woman?‟
„Apart from you, you mean?‟ She sighed and as if speaking to a child said, „We‟ll be having an evening meal at the B „n B.‟
„Says who?‟
„What do you mean, says who? We‟ve paid for it, you stupid sod.‟
„So what? We‟re on holiday, aren‟t we? We can splash out a bit.‟
„Oh yeah? What with?‟
„Don‟t start going on about that again. For God‟s sake, woman, a plate of fish and chips is hardly going to break the bank, is it?‟
Imogen thrust out her jaw and said through gritted teeth,
„But I don‟t want fish and chips.‟
„Well, I do,’ sneered Tony, thrusting his face close to hers.
Charlotte felt the familiar tension squeezing her lungs. She was so exhausted by their arguing that she felt like screaming at them to stop, felt like grabbing each of them by the scruffs of their necks and banging their heads together.
But she knew that anger on her part would do no good. It was her lot to be the conciliator.
Wearily, all thoughts of a warm bath slipping away from her, she said, Why don‟t we just pop in for a cup of tea?
We‟ve still got plenty of time before dinner.‟
Chris snorted and looked away as if he thought her attempts at arbitration pathetic.
Her dad rounded on her. „I don‟t want a cup of tea. I want fish and chips.‟
„Well, you have fish and chips,‟ she said reasonably. „Mum and I can have a cup of tea and Chris can have... whatever he wants.‟
Her brother mumbled something. Imogen snapped her head towards him. „If you‟ve got something to say, just say it.‟
Suddenly Chris was glaring at her, the cheekbones of his spotty face flaring with colour. „I said what I want is to get away from this bloody family. I don‟t know why I had to come on this stupid holiday, anyway. I wish you‟d all just get stuffed and leave me alone.‟
Charlotte looked around. They were starting to attract the attention of passers-by.
Imogen stepped towards him. „Don‟t you