Doctor Who_ Ghost Light - Marc Platt [58]
The Doctor held the envelope for a second and then passed it back.
Redvers smiled gratefully. ‘Will you join my expedition, Doctor?’
‘Not yet,’ he said, setting off at a pace. ‘First I have to find Ace.’
The maid watched them disappear. She released her grip on the door-handle and waited, listening to the muffled sounds of the struggle from the room.
Ace had Gwendoline in a head lock, but there was no where to secure the vicious little Victorian and no one to help her do it. Gwendoline tried to kick Ace’s shins, but her long skirts hampered her movements.
‘Let go of me, you little brat!’ she cried out, still trying to reach Ace’s face with her pad.
‘No way!’ Behind her, Ace heard the rumble of the window sliding up. As if in answer to a prayer, a hand appeared, clad in a lady’s long and grubby evening glove.
Control, her hair dishevelled, her eyes wild and her will broken, hauled herself in through the gap.
‘Control! Help me!’ shouted Ace, but the creature only stared at the struggle and muttered, ‘Poor Control. No hoping. No changing,’ in a voice bereft of all energy.
‘Oh, yeah! What about poor Ace? Well, help me, why don’t you!’
Control moved forward and thrust them both out of her way, allowing Gwendoline to break free. She rounded on Ace again, but Control had pulled open the door and seized hold of the maid. The startled woman was sent careering into Gwendoline and they both collapsed in a heap.
Ace dashed out into the passage after Control, slamming the door behind her and turning the key in the lock. From inside came Gwendoline’s most unladylike curse, followed by a sharp slap as she took out her spite on the unfortunate maid’s face.
The door-handle began to rattle; blows started to pound on the panelling. Control had gone by now, but Ace cared only about finding the Doctor. She just wanted to get out and she wasn’t worried whether she saw any of the others again: not Control nor Josiah nor any of his mad family; not Mackenzie nor Nimrod nor Light — especially not Light.
Josiah stalked the upper observatory, rapidly losing patience at the lack of any news. He had tried the telephone, but as he lifted it a beetle had crawled from the earpiece. He threw down the receiver in disgust. When he tried again, the line was dead.
A few minutes later, Nimrod came up the stairs.
‘Where’s Redvers?’ demanded Josiah. ‘I told you to fetch him back.’
Nimrod had a determined air that Josiah disliked. ‘My circumstances have changed, sir. I wish to serve notice of the termination of my employment.’
This was laughable. ‘What? Without me you have nothing!’ But suddenly Josiah was afraid. He snatched up his pistol, held it to Nimrod’s temples and forced the manservant to his knees. ‘What’s Light been saying to you? Or that Doctor? I know where your true allegiance lies!’
Defying the barrel of the gun, Nimrod rose to his feet and declared, ‘With myself, sir.’
With a look of utter contempt, Josiah pushed his servant away. ‘Where are the others?’ he cried. ‘It’s almost dinner time. Why aren’t they all dead?’ With a final glare at Nimrod, he disappeared down into the house. ‘Do I have to do everything myself!’
Light stood watching, its hand stroking the side of the TARDIS. It studied one of the observatory’s arched windows and the darkness beyond. ‘I think I shall be late for dinner,’ it mused.
Ace was certain that the Doctor was nearby, watching her.
If this was another of his games... She had come back round the house close to Gwendoline’s room and as she reached the door, she thought she heard someone crying.
There was a momentary flare of white outside the window as if a minor comet had just fizzed past the house.
Then it was gone.
Ace looked warily into the room and saw a shape crouched on the floor, enveloped in an eiderdown. She approached the shape and called gently, ‘Control?’
The shape tensed. ‘Go way! Leave lone!’ it snapped.
Ace sat down on the floor beside it. ‘Am I still Ratkin?’
she asked. Control