Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [10]
The Doctor came in with a tray of tea things. He found a sofa under some boxes and cleared a space. As Mrs Castle watched him sit down, he yawned.
She felt guilty. ‘I’m sorry to have woken you up.’
‘I don’t need much sleep,’ he said wistfully. ‘In fact, usually I can pretty well do without it.’ Men always liked to boast how little sleep they needed. His voice was soft with an accent that was difficult to pin down.
‘You seemed fast asleep when I came in,’ Mrs Castle replied gently.
‘I was dreaming,’ he said, trying to remember. ‘I was in a house, and it was my house but it wasn’t. It went on for ever, and I kept finding new rooms. There were hundreds of bedrooms, a swimming pool, an art gallery and a library, even a greenhouse the size of Kew Gardens. I’m sure it means something.’
‘It’s a common dream,’ Mrs Castle reassured him.
‘It is?’ He seemed disappointed.
‘I’ve had the same dream. I’m sure you can find a book that will tell you what it means. When I have the dream it’s an enormous empty school – classroom after classroom, corridor after corridor. But that’s not a surprise.’
The man cocked his head to one side, confused.
‘I’m a teacher,’ she explained. ‘Primary school.’
He nodded, as if he approved.
‘Who are you playing chess with?’ she asked. There was no one else in the house, she was sure of that. But some people conducted postal games, sending each move at the end of a letter.
‘Oh, just against myself.’ He seemed embarrassed by the admission.
‘I do that,’ Mrs Castle said brightly. ‘I’ve played it since I was a little girl. My husband doesn’t, neither do any of our friends.’ For some reason, Mrs Castle was annoyed with herself for mentioning her husband. ‘I run the chess club at school now, but they’re only ten and eleven – they’re still learning. Are you any good?’
‘There’s only one way to find out.’ The Doctor was already setting up the pieces for a new game, starting to unpick the moves he’d made.
‘No,’ Mrs Castle said. ‘I’m already late, and I’m sure I need to report the accident to the police.’ She stood up, took a step back, almost standing on some apparatus.
The Doctor looked a little disappointed. To Mrs Castle, he looked a little like one of her pupils might when they were told to pack up their toys and get ready for school. She glanced back at what she’d almost stepped on. It consisted of a couple of car batteries lashed together with black tape, a TV aerial and a couple of old radios nestling in an old suitcase.
‘Can you get Radio Two on that?’ she asked.
‘No, no. It’s just something I’m working on. It generates soundwaves. Ultrasonics. When I get it working, it could be used to unfasten screws, maybe even open locks.’
Mrs Castle looked at the device, the size of a suitcase. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to use a screwdriver or a key?’
The Doctor looked deflated. ‘Well, it’s only a prototype,’ he told her sulkily. ‘The final version will be a lot smaller, I’m sure.’
‘Do you live here alone?’ she asked him, trying to lighten the mood.
The Doctor nodded.
‘It must get lonely.’
‘It’s beautiful here,’ he said softly. ‘Peaceful.’
Mrs Castle had to agree.
‘I’ve never seen you in town.’ She was sure she would remember him.
‘I go there from time to time,’ he assured her. ‘To pick up supplies: food, books, that sort of thing.’
‘You’ve got a car?’
He nodded. ‘A Trabant.’
‘A what?’
The Doctor just laughed.
‘And that police box out there? Is that yours? No, silly question – it belongs to the police.’
‘It’s mine,’ the man said. When he saw her puzzled look he continued: ‘It’s a long story... at least I think it is. I found a book about police boxes once, in a library, but there weren’t any clues in it.’
‘I tried using the phone, but there isn’t one.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘Yes, I know. Odd, isn’t it? I don’t suppose you know why?’
Mrs Castle