Doctor Who_ Last of the Gaderene - Mark Gatiss [43]
Mrs Toovey got up and smoothed down her skirt. ‘Oh yes.
He’d have just gone up in his Spitfire and given the Jerries the old one two! Now, I’d better see to the washing-up.’
Jo got quickly to her feet. ‘No, no. You’ve done quite enough. Mrs Toovey. Let me.’
The old woman gave a grateful smile and sank back into her chair. ‘Well, if you’re sure, my dear...?’
Jo nodded and began to clear away the teacups. Mrs Toovey crossed her hands over her chest and let her leathery chins sink into one another. ‘When the Wing Commander gets back. you might ask him if he’ll take you up in the old kite.’
Jo frowned. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘The Spitfire,’ said Mrs Toovey evenly. ‘It’s out the back: Jo’s face was a mask of surprise. ‘You’re joking?’
‘No, no. He restored the old thing himself. It’s in full working order. The Wing Commander gets her out, regular, every summer for the village fête. She’s ready for tomorrow.
That’s if we have a summer fête with all this going on.’
Jo lifted the tea tray with both hands. ‘Well, I can hardly wait to meet him. I feel like I know him already.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘ Mother! ’
As she moved to the door, there was a soft thump from upstairs. Jo stiffened and looked back over her shoulder at Mrs Toovey.
‘What was that?’
Mrs Toovey glanced up at the ceiling and began to fiddle anxiously with her wedding ring.
There was a small, crisp sound, like someone clicking their fingers, and all the lights went out. Mrs Toovey drew in a sharp breath.
‘There’s somebody in the house.’
Ted Bishop placed a cool hand on to his son’s forehead and bit his lip anxiously.
Max had been gone the best part of an hour, so Ted had moved Noah into the back room and stretched him out on the sofa. He seemed no better, his face lathered in sweat, his eyes rolling white.
Glancing at his watch, Ted gently lifted Noah’s head from his lap and let it rest on a cushion before getting to his feet. He made his way across the room and picked up the phone.
In the absence of the police, there was always one person he knew he could rely on.
She was an old friend of his late wife and had been a great comfort to him in his grief. She was a cheery, sensible person who disliked Max and his theatrical ways. That made her all right in Ted’s book.
He picked up the receiver and was about to dial when Noah groaned. One arm flopped over the side of the sofa and he trailed his fingers on the thin carpet. As Ted watched, the boy’s eyes flicked open once more, wide and frightened, the whites glittering in the light of the fire.
Jo held her breath and looked up as another thump echoed through the little cottage. She reached out and gripped Mrs Toovey’s arm, more to steady her own nerves than the old lady’s.
Mrs Toovey opened her mouth to speak but Jo put a finger to her lips and shook her head. She looked around, listening as the clock on the stone mantle piece softly marked time, then detached herself from Mrs Toovey and headed for the door to the hall.
‘Where are you going?’ hissed Mrs Toovey in alarm.
Jo pointed to the ceiling.
The housekeeper shook her head violently and Jo gave her a reassuring smile. Creeping up close to her, she whispered in her ear.
‘It’s OK. I’ll go out and open the front door. If there’s anything fishy, just run. I’ll be right behind you.’
Mrs Toovey frowned concernedly, clearly not happy with Jo’s plan.
Jo shrugged. ‘We have to do something,’ she whispered gently. ‘We can’t just stay here like a couple of frightened rabbits.’
The old woman gave a small smile and patted Jo on the wrist.
Jo tiptoed across the room and softly opened the door.
The corridor beyond suddenly seemed very dark indeed.
Phantom shadows flitted over the walls as moonlight spilled in through the fanlight over the front door.
Jo swallowed nervously and then dashed swiftly across the uncarpeted floor. Her hands hovered briefly over the door before she found the lock and carefully unhooked the latch.
She swung the door open and