Doctor Who_ Nightshade - Mark Gatiss [27]
her back after last year?’
Trevithick smiled as if humouring a child. Lowcock
‘That was an unfortunate mistake.’
fumbled in his raincoat and produced a battered address
‘Unfortunate mistake?’ Trevithick mocked. ‘I don’t call book. ‘Would you mind? It’s not for me, you understand...’
peeing on the Christmas tree an unfortunate mistake. More Trevithick scribbled his name on the flyleaf and Jill once like malice aforethought!’
again ushered out the beaming policeman. ‘Well, you Jill suppressed a smile. ‘She was overwrought, poor dear.
certainly made his day,’ she said, sitting down and Anyway, the others are off to a hotel in Ilkley for the smoothing her skirt.
duration. We’re taking a coach to York Station.’
‘Keep the punters happy, I always say.’
‘All except me.’
Jill looked at him keenly. ‘Now, Edmund. Are you sure
‘All except you. And because of your bloody-mindedness you’ve told me everything?’
I’ve got to spend my Christmas in Crook Marsham.’
‘Stop treating me like a bloody child.’
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DOCTOR WHO: NIGHTSHADE
DOCTOR WHO: NIGHTSHADE
Trevithick harrumphed but, in truth, he was rather
‘Well ... I’ll do my best.’ She took down a heavy sheepskin looking forward to it. Now that he had no family. He coat from its peg and went to tell Polly what had happened.
thought briefly of his daughter’s inert body on that Trevithick walked up to Robin. ‘You’re from the pub wretched autobahn. And his granddaughter. Run off to join aren’t you, lad?’ Robin nodded distractedly, glancing up the some hippy cult or other.
corridor. ‘Hmm,’ mused Trevithick. ‘I think I might No, now it would be just him and Jill. Probably pulling accompany you. We’ve had a bit of trouble of our own up crackers over a tin of Spam. He laughed lightly to himself.
here. I could murder a pint.’
‘Well, my dear. ‘Tis the season to be jolly.’
Robin smiled thinly. Trevithick went to fetch his coat and Jill smiled and placed a cool hand on his. He watched her hat. Realising that Jill would probably be some time, Robin leave the room and then turned back to the window. His slid down the wall and relaxed. He couldn’t work out what mind began to race. He had kept quiet about what had had happened to Dr Shearsmith. He was always in before really happened in his room. But what had happened? What four and had told everyone he was staying in Crook could he tell anyone? That some strange voice had Marsham for Christmas.
whispered the name of his old character out of the darkness?
Added to that, Robin had found the front door wide open That there was that dreadful smell? Like the mass grave he and the record player on, struggling scratchily through and his men had come across in Poland during the war.
‘That’s the way it is’ by the Ink Spots. There was an old Morbid, rotten, evil. Yes, that was it. There was something photograph album, too, lying on the hearthrug and open to terrible about that smell. Something long-buried that should show faded, white-bordered pictures of Dr Shearsmith and never have seen daylight again.
his late wife on some long-ago Christmas Day. Some time There was a commotion in the corridor and Trevithick during the thirties to judge from their clothes. There was a raised himself a little unsteadily to his feet. Robin was funny smell too. Like milk turning sour.
beyond the door, his face flushed and his breath coming in Jill strode towards Robin, a reassuring smile on her face.
gasps.
Trevithick appeared simultaneously, jamming a tweedy hat
‘Miss Mason? Miss Mason?’ he called. Jill came down the on to his head. Opening the front door, the three of them set corridor, her head cocked to one side. Trevithick shut the out together into the gathering dusk.
door behind him and joined them.
‘You’re Lawrence Yeadon’s son, aren’t you?’ said Jill.
Ace gazed down forlornly at the mud which caked her
‘What’s up?’
shoes. She’d watched Vijay open the security fence with Robin ran a hand through rain-glistened hair. ‘It’s my some