Doctor Who_ Lungbarrow - Marc Platt [40]
Chris walked out across the area, but the Doctor skulked near the foot of the stairs, apparently regarding every shadow with suspicion.
One side of the conservatory had been penned off by a low curving wall. Chris leant over the top and saw hundreds of tiny shapes covering the floor. Some were round, some were flat-topped, while others had intricate coloured patterns.
'Species of edible fungi,' observed the Doctor, final y venturing out to join him. He pointed to different varieties.
'Feathergills, pogsquats, skullcaps… Those flat, circular ones are called Cardinal's collars.'
'Indigenous,' said Chris.
'Biotrophic: they live in harmony with other plants.'
'Like the House, for instance,' Chris suggested.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 'The residents have obviously set-up some sort of fungi farm. I wonder why.'
Chris leant on the fence. 'Looks deserted to me.'
'Not totally,' said the Doctor. 'Don't forget someone's left the dinner on.'
'You call that dinner?'
The Doctor leant on the fence next to Chris and they stared at the fungi.
I know you know where we are, Chris thought. You know I know where we are. So why does neither of us admit it?
What have we got to hide?
The fungi were growing thickest on a dark mound at the far end of the pen. There was a sudden pop and a little puff of dust shot up out of the throng.
'Spores,' said the Doctor. 'They're multiplying.' He picked up a piece of broken wood that was propped against the fence and pulled off some splinters. He tossed them into the pen. 'Hungry little devils. They're not averse to a little dead material either.'
Chris listened to the whispering for a while. 'Doctor?'
'Hmm?'
'What's going on?'
The Doctor drew in a slow deep breath of the heavy air. 'What do you think, Christopher?'
54
Chris considered the least offensive way of calling the Doctor a liar. 'It's a big place,' he said. 'Considering it's been abandoned by most of the people who lived here, I think it's the noisiest place I've ever been to. And we haven't even seen anyone yet.'
The Doctor's hand reached for Chris's forehead. 'The whispering again?'
'Can you really not hear it?'
'It seems ominously quiet to me.'
That really niggled Chris. His temper flared. 'I think you know a hell of a lot about this place, especially since you deny ever having been here before.'
The Doctor stayed totally calm. 'I could say the same about you,' he said.
Chris was immediately embarrassed. He looked down at the fungi in the pen and noticed that they were shifting very, very slowly round the dead wood, like a crowd of umbrel a-ed snails.
'Do you miss your family, Chris?' the Doctor asked suddenly.
Chris shrugged. 'I could do with a good argument now and then. Yes, I suppose I miss them.' And he added testily,
'How about you?'
The Doctor shushed him and darted his eyes round the dead conservatory. 'Walls have ears,' he muttered. 'We don't want to wake up the whole household.' He turned back and met Chris's stare head-on. 'I want to find the TARDIS and leave.'
Chris nearly said something about Cousins and wills and murders, but he was suddenly completely side-tracked by the depth of the Doctor's eyes. Even in shadow, they glinted with an inner light that was fascinating and oh, so persuasive.
'Give it a rest, Chris,' he heard Roz wearily intoning.
Maybe it was better not to pursue the argument. We al have our secrets, don't we?
'Fine by me,' agreed Chris, rather pleased by his decision.
'That's right,' said the Doctor's voice, which sounded miles away. 'Thank you, Chris. But first, there's something I must just check.'
'Fine,' repeated Chris dreamily.
'I won't be long. Just wait here. Don't move. Don't be seen. Don't eat the mushrooms. I'l be back.'
'Fine.'
Chris leant on the fence and inhaled