Doctor Who_ Nightshade - Mark Gatiss [62]
strong tea which the Doctor declined.
The Doctor nodded a little stiffly. ‘Whatever,’ he said and
‘Did you all feel this?’
left the room.
‘Yes. But Mr Medway, the one who helped us, must’ve Ace sat down in the Abbot’s chair and chewed her lip.
been driving in the same conditions as us and he didn’t feel There was a funny sensation churning in her stomach, a a thing. I thought it might be something in the air...’
kind of nervous anticipation mingled with sadness, like the
‘Gas?’
first and last days of school combined.
‘Something like that. But what Mr Medway says rather The Doctor left the Abbot’s study and traversed the rules that out.’
narrow corridor which led to the open cloisters. He paused
‘I’m not so sure,’ said the Doctor darkly. ‘He was coming a moment, gazing at the hard white sky which was once into the village.’
more threatening snow, then he turned the corner towards
‘What d’you mean by that?’
the Great Hall.
‘Where’s Abbot Winstanley?’
He found the room buzzing with noise and confusion. A Jill looked around at the chaos in the room. ‘He was here.
dozen or so monks were helping the coach party into hastily Can’t see him now.’
improvised beds, nursing sprains and applying poultices.
The Doctor turned towards the door. ‘Never mind. Just Jill Mason stood to one side, banging the last dregs from an tell him I’ve gone back to the telescope, would you?’
ancient tea urn. Mrs Holland was still moaning softly to He gave her a little smile and left the room through the herself in the corner.
big double doors.
‘It’s these blackie postmen,’ announced Mr Peel to no one Jill carried two mugs of steaming tea over to Mrs Holland.
in particular.
She sat down and sipped one herself, letting the old woman cradle hers like a security blanket. ‘All right now, Esmé?’
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DOCTOR WHO: NIGHTSHADE
DOCTOR WHO: NIGHTSHADE
Mrs Holland looked at her blankly, her toothless mouth her zest he liked, her spontaneity and sparkle. That and her champing in agitation.
rather appealing face. He smiled. Maybe she could come to
‘Wilfrid?’ she called weakly. ‘Oh, it’s you. I was just Italy with him. Maybe they could go away sooner...
recalling...’
Slow down. Slow down. You hardly know her yet.
She looked down and frowned. ‘It’s all changed now, you He thought of Ace’s words: ‘Plenty of time, sunshine’ and see. All changed. I used to have such lovely long hair. My beamed.
mother used to sit and brush it by the fire. Like spun gold Still beaming, he walked through the door of The she always said.’
Shepherd’s Cross. Trevithick looked up from a table where Mrs Holland put the mug on to the arm of her chair and Lawrence sat, head in hands.
held out her hands before her. The skin was tight and
‘Robin! Oh, thank God!’ cried Lawrence, springing to his wrinkled like a chicken’s, large liver spots speckling every feet and scooping up the boy in his arms.
finger. She turned to look at Jill, her eyes full of regret and
‘What’s wrong, Dad?’
what could only be bitterness.
‘Thank God. Thank God,’ Lawrence muttered, burying his face in Robin’s coat.
Robin enjoyed the walk into the village, despite the cold.
‘Where’s Betty?’
This wasn’t his favourite time of year by any means. He was Lawrence drew back a little and Robin saw the puffy a summer boy, content to potter around in his T-shirt and redness of his eyes for the first time.
shorts during the dog days of July and August, playing
‘What happened up there? Did it get you too?’ Lawrence football with the lads from work well into the balmy night.
said in a gabbled shriek.
Sometimes he would put in a few hours behind the bar at
‘What?’
the pub and this, in addition to his wage from the
‘How come you’re all right and she’s...’
newspaper office in York, usually meant he could save Robin took him by the shoulders and shook him. ‘Where’s enough for a holiday. By the summer of 1969 he hoped to Mum?’ He looked Lawrence straight in the eyes. ‘She was have enough to get to Italy. Or maybe Brazil for