Doctor Who_ Nightshade - Mark Gatiss [25]
his neck rose in response. For a moment, he saw himself
‘What kind of a welcome’s this?’ the voice seemed to coo.
balanced on the slippery walkway of another telescope, the
‘Give your old brother a kiss...’
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The face jutted forward. Closer. Rank, salty breath Lawrence looked down at her anxiously as she twisted streamed across Betty’s face. Closer...
and knotted the sheets between shaking hands. He stroked She screamed so hard that she cracked her head against her forehead gently and made reassuring hushing sounds the side of the bath. For one long minute she lay panting until she turned over on her side, eyes glaring fixedly at the and retching where she had fainted, glaring about the room wall.
as if the walls themselves were about to attack her. Then she After staying a few minutes, Lawrence decided it was felt the cold bath panel against her cheek and, in a rush of time to call for help. Betty had coped with these nightmares logic, connected it to the imagined icy grip of her late long enough. He stood up and crossed the landing to the brother.
telephone.
A deep, relieved sigh hissed from between her clenched
‘Dad?’
teeth and she managed to haul herself into a sitting position Robin’s voice sailed up from the bar below. Lawrence against the bath. Blood roared in her ears. She glanced paused with his finger on the dial and pressed the receiver stiffly over her shoulder and realised the bathwater was to his chest.
about to overflow. Shakily, she got to her feet and turned off
‘Up here, Robin!’ he called over the bannister.
the juddering taps with some effort.
Robin was already on his way up, pulling off his coat and The rim of the bath was wet and warm. Betty sat down on scarf in agitation. ‘They said in the bar they heard...’
it heavily, letting the edge of her dressing gown trail in the
‘It’s all right, it’s all right. It’s Betty. Another of her bad steaming water. Brushing a lock of damp hair from her eye dreams.’
she began to take long, grateful breaths. Then she glanced Lawrence dialled a number, listened, frowned and then down at the carpet and started screaming.
dialled again. A dull crackling sound came from the receiver.
She didn’t stop, her throat and lungs aching with the
‘No answer. Funny.’
strain, even when Lawrence came belting up the stairs, Robin was making his way towards the bedroom.
looking crazily about him as if trying to locate the problem.
Lawrence put a hand on his son’s arm.
‘Betty! What is it? What’s the matter?’
‘She’ll be all right with me, son. Could you go across and She flung herself, weeping, into his arms, her breath see if Dr Shearsmith’s in? The phone seems to be playing coming in huge, hysterical gulps.
up.’
‘What is it? What is it?’ Lawrence insisted, shielding his Robin hesitated, glancing across the landing at the closed wife with burly arms.
bedroom door. ‘Well...’
But she was unable or unwilling to speak. Instead she
‘She’ll be OK with me.’
allowed him to lead her from the bathroom and lay her
‘Yeah. Yeah, of course. Whatever you think’s best.’
down on the bed.
Robin clattered away down the stairs and out through the bar. Lawrence sighed heavily and padded across the 72
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landing towards the bedroom. Passing the open bathroom face. She sniffed back shaky tears and looked at the bare door he failed to notice the large, wet boot marks rapidly brown poplars which lined the driveway. A fierce wind evaporating from the carpet.
shivered through them.
‘You know, I’ve always hated this time of year,’ she said, MRS CARSON: He’s changed. Different somehow!
without turning round. Trevithick merely grunted and NIGHTSHADE: All right, Barbara, don’t get hysterical.
toyed with his