Doctor Who_ Peacemaker - James Swallow [10]
A group of children ran past them, calling out a hello and Jenny waved back at them. ‘Some of my charges from the school,’ she explained.
The boys and girls ducked around the adults, laughing and giggling.
Jenny explained that the kids were engaged in a game of something called ‘Pom Pom Pull Away’, but Martha soon gave up trying to follow the rules. It wasn’t just Redwater’s younger citizens who were having fun and entertaining each other; as the two women walked past the Bluebird saloon, a pair of men with bow fiddles were tapping out an upbeat song about some lady called ‘Sweet Betsy’ and, as they came to a conclusion, the crowd roared approval. Without pause, the 24
musicians launched straight into another tune, and Martha gasped as she recognised the rhythm.
‘Cotton Eyed Joe!’ She laughed and clapped her hands. ‘I know this one! My dad used to play this every time we had a Christmas party, that horrible drum-and-bass remix version that goes on for ever. . . ’
Martha trailed off as Jenny looked at her blankly. ‘Ha. Never mind.’
‘Everyone certainly does seem to be enjoying themselves,’ said the teacher, and Martha heard the wary edge in her words.
‘And why the heck shouldn’t they?’ They both turned at the sound of the new voice and saw a portly, florid-faced man with a bowler hat poised at a rakish angle on his head. ‘Today’s a celebration of life, an affirmation!’ He nodded to himself.
Jenny inclined her head in greeting. ‘Mr Hawkes, how are you?’
‘In fine fettle, Miss Forrest!’ He shot Martha a sidelong glance. ‘Have you taken in a domestic? I wasn’t aware.’ The man had a bundle of printed papers under one arm.
‘This is Martha Jones,’ said Jenny. ‘She’s a new arrival to our fair town. She’s travelling with her associate, the Doctor.’
Hawkes grunted. ‘A Doctor, you say? Well, doesn’t that beat all? We don’t see a single medico in Redwater for nigh on a year, then two of them turn up within a week of each other! What are the odds?’
‘Just lucky, I guess,’ offered Martha. Hawkes glanced at her and then looked away, back to Jenny. Her lip curled as she realised the man was ignoring her.
‘Our noble lawman Sheriff Blaine told me he’d spoken with you today,’ he continued. ‘He expressed the opinion that you were in a mode of distress and ill-ease, by his measure.’
‘I assure you, I am thriving,’ Jenny countered.
‘As are we all,’ Hawkes said, with an expansive wave of his hand,
‘thanks to the miracle of recent days. . . But no, I believe his meaning was toward your inner manner, not any outward sickliness. He said, if you will permit me to say, that you appeared gloomy.’
The teacher bristled. ‘I would have said thoughtful.’
Hawkes gave a patronising laugh. ‘Aha, and therein lies the problem! I would hazard that a fine young woman like you ought not to 25
busy her pretty head with doubts over things that are already done and gone! Instead of searching for a rotten fruit among the bushel, why not enjoy the apples you have?’ He nodded again, pleased with himself.
‘Indeed,’ said the teacher, and she nodded at the papers under Hawkes’s arm to change the subject. ‘Is that the new edition?’
‘Certainly is!’ He unfurled one of the sheets and offered it to her.
Martha realised that it was a newspaper; a masthead with Redwater Chronicle written in fancy lettering dominated the top of the page.
Beneath it were the words ‘Zachariah Hawkes, Editor in Chief and Publisher’.
‘Ooh, can I see?’ Before Hawkes could protest, Martha took it from him and scanned the document. It was just a single sheet of rough yellow paper, with smudged lines of thick, large text.
Hawkes stuck out his chin and spoke directly to Martha for the first time. ‘I’d have my doubts someone of your persuasion could read it, let alone understand it.’ He gave a disdainful sniff.
Martha pointed at the paper. ‘You’ve spelt “Kansas” wrong, there and there. And “government”. And “illustrated”.’ She pulled a mock-sad face.