Doctor Who_ Rags - Mick Lewis [45]
The Doctor steered Bessie through a quaint Wiltshire village, oblivious to the thatched roofs and black-and-white cottages. He was preoccupied with one thing only: answering that summons before whatever was in the truck answered it. The road ahead was blocked by a tractor; a fat farmer with his buttocks peeping cheekily out from above his cords bounced along happily on his seat, completely unaware of the impatient Time Lord directly behind him.
The Doctor honked his horn, but the sound was lost over the raucous blatting of the tractor’s engine.
‘Good heavens, man, will you get out of my way!’ he bellowed, edging Bessie right up behind the bouncing buttocks. He suddenly missed a placatory remark from his habitual passenger, and his hearts tightened and his impatience grew.
He blasted the horn again.
Jo leant against a stone angel and watched Sin flirting with a long-haired hippie who, with his torn Stranglers T-shirt, looked like he might be on the cusp of transforming into a punk - she caught herself wondering what she’d look like herself with short spiky hair and fishnets. Maybe quite sexy. Perhaps she could talk to Sin about it; they could work on each other. She noticed Nick sitting a little apart on a tomb, smoking and trying very hard to pretend he didn’t care. Nick was nice, good looking, kind, but maybe a
109
little too serious. Sometimes she got the feeling he didn’t want to be with the tour, and yet at other times he was caught up with the buzz like all the rest of them.
Yes, that included her, all right. She wanted to see this thing through; she wanted to see a confrontation - and she knew one was coming. The band was bringing change, re-dressing this land of shame. And the Doctor?
He just better not try to stop it. She’d grown tired of his meddling.
She was leaning back in the afternoon sun, her back warm from the base of the stone angel, when she glimpsed someone she knew. She sat bolt upright, her lazy smile snatched away.
Bastards!
They couldn’t leave it alone, could they? Couldn’t leave her alone. This had to be the Doctor’s bright idea, sending Mike Yates in. And how bloody ‘inconspicuous’ he looked! She would have laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed. He was sitting away from the main huddle of travellers on the steps of the crematorium, smoking a cigarette of all things! My God what was he wearing? A sheepskin tank top! Beads round his neck!! Huge flares!!!
She felt herself flush with shame and yes, real anger. He looked a complete prat. A cartoon hippie. Jesus, who’d dressed him - the bloody Brigadier?
He was going to ruin everything. If he spotted her and came over now, her new friends would believe she was spying on them.
And while that had been the original intention, it certainly was no longer the case now.
She made her mind up. She’d have to go over to him, tell him to leave, that everything was fine. Send him back to those idiot army boys. From a distance, she could pretend he was just a weird acquaintance if Sin or Jimmy happened to be looking.
He must have already noticed her and simply been waiting for the right time to approach her, because he didn’t look surprised when he looked up and saw her heading his way.
She forced herself to smile pleasantly, shutting the anger inside.
110
‘Jo,’ he said warmly, holding the cigarette like a schoolboy caught behind the bike sheds.
She didn’t waste time. ‘Mike, you have to go.’
His sheepish smile vanished, and his usual practical expression slipped into place. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘You’re the matter: you look too obvious. Anyway, you’re not needed here. Doesn’t the Doctor think I can look after myself after all I’ve been through because of him?’ She’d let out some of the anger despite herself and he frowned.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, Jo?’
I’m feeling better than I have for