Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [76]
‘I work as a yuppie,’ he told her, after a short pause.
Dinah laughed. ‘That’s funny.’
He smiled back, a little uncertainly. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
The Doctor checked the connection between the sonic suitcase and the transmutation machine, then flicked a couple of switches.
A humming noise, quite a low, ominous sound.
The Doctor snapped the briefcase shut and checked the readings.
‘We’ve got two minutes,’ he told them. ‘So let’s make the most of them.’
‘You’ve set it to blow up?’ Joel asked, worried.
The Doctor smiled and ushered them towards the door.
‘But all our stuff!’ he complained.
Kirst grabbed him. ‘The Doctor’s going to give us a million quid. It’s not like you’ve got anything worth saving.’
‘The telly...’
‘The telly is from Rumbelows,’ she reminded him. ‘Nicked from Rumbelows.’
They hurried out of the door, into the corridor.
The metal door stood between them and the unrenovated lower storeys of the Tower.
‘How are we going to open the door and get past the guards?’ Debbie asked.
‘I’ll use the sonic suitcase,’ the Doctor said, ushering them out of the way. He had opened it up, balanced it on one knee. He pressed something and the door slid smoothly open. The Doctor closed the briefcase and waited.
The guards on the other side clearly hadn’t been expecting the door to open. They turned and edged forwards.
‘Halt!’ they said.
‘Not even the sonic suitcase can get us out of this one,’ Debbie whispered.
The Doctor smiled, then, without warning, he charged forward, holding the briefcase out in front of him. Before the guards had time to raise their rifles, he’d swung the case around, smashing both of their helmets with enough force to crack them.
The guards fell to the floor, out cold.
‘It’s a very versatile tool,’ the Doctor noted.
Behind them, the humming of the transmutation machinery was reaching a crescendo.
‘Run!’ he ordered.
* * *
‘God, Alex is going to punch that bloke if Dinah doesn’t cool off a bit.’
‘Oh, you know what Dinah’s like: “Ooh, look at his muscles. He looks like a Nazi. I want to shag him.”’
Bob looked at Miranda.
‘That’s brilliant,’ Bob told her.
‘What?’
‘That impersonation. It sounded just like Dinah.’
‘Oh, yeah, it’s a trick my dad taught me.’
‘Your dad taught you to do impressions?’
‘Well, yes. “Hello, I’m Bob.”’
‘I don’t sound like that.’
‘You do.’
‘Oh. You should be on Spitting Image.’
‘Why, thanks.’
‘As a voice, I mean, not a puppet. Can you do Maggie Thatcher?’
‘Yes, I can,’ Miranda said, then, in her best Thatcher voice: ‘It’s not that difficult to mimic someone.’
‘I can only do Rik Mayall,’ Bob confessed. ‘Right on, Vyv. Oh wonderful. Give money to tramps, Thatcher out, anarchy rules.’
Miranda smiled generously.
* * *
The Doctor threw himself down the stairs, two, three, even four at a time. His hand was clamped around Debbie’s. She was already out of breath, her feet barely touching the steps as they went. Joel and Kirst were behind them, right at their backs.
The guards they passed were far more worried by the wave of roses that was surging after them than the escapees themselves. The guards seemed unsure what to do – most seemed to think the best strategy was to fire their rifles at the mass of rose petals and wait for the transmutation effect to wash over them.
So the Doctor and his companions hadn’t had to worry too much about the guards.
Now, though, the tidal wave of roses had almost caught up with them.
‘Don’t look back!’ the Doctor shouted.
They piled down another set of stairs, stray roses falling down ahead of them.
* * *
Dinah’s front room was full of people, smoke and sound. Only five or six people were up on their feet, the others sitting back, trying to talk and pull. There were a lot of boys here – about two boys to each girl. It meant that a lot of hopeful glances were aimed Miranda’s way.
Miranda tried to teach Bob how to dance, but early on she realised it was a lost cause. Instead, she just pulled him in close, let them be alone together in the crowd. The song was about a group of people building a city