Doctor Who_ Rags - Mick Lewis [47]
‘Enjoy? Jesus... People are dying, Sin. This isn’t a game!’ She had lost her cruel smirk now; her eyes were hard and emotionless like painted eyes. ‘What the hell’s happened to you?’ Nick asked.
‘We used to be so close. I remember you saying how much you needed me, how much -’
‘How much I cared?’ she finished for him with icy sarcasm.
‘You’re embarrassing me. Go and take your bleeding heart somewhere I don’t have to see it. I’ll tell you one thing: I only care about this tour now. It’s everything I always wanted: excitement, fulfilment, adventure. Go and get a job, Nick. Go and get yourself a nice girl.’ She laughed, and the Stranglers fan joined in. Even Jo sniggered.
Nick looked down at the ground, nodding slowly. He turned and walked towards the camper van.
* * *
113
The Doctor steered Bessie into the car park near the small school and unclipped the sensor from the dashboard. It was bleating faintly but steadily in his hand, perceptibly stronger than when he’d started out on his journey, yet still quiet enough to be described as dormant. The Doctor walked down the footpath beside the school, sensor tucked into the pocket of his green velvet jacket.
Children were running and screaming and fighting in the adjacent playing fields, and some of them pointed at him and laughed. He ignored them. Crows were also laughing at him, hoarsely and unpleasantly, from hawthorn trees leaning over the path. He ignored them too.
The path ended in a stile that led into a lush field, sparkling with cobwebs and the moistness of a brief late-afternoon rainfall.
The Doctor’s attention, however, was distracted by what stood in the meadow. He leant against the stile and stroked his prominent chin.
‘Of course,’ was all he said. He withdrew the sensor and held it out towards the field. The detector bleeped comfortably in recognition of the energy source. A nearby sheep stopped its grazing and looked up at him without curiosity. Vacantly.
Others gazed at him too, all with the same uniform blankness.
The Doctor had never had much time for sheep. But they had never filled him with dread before. Of course that was nothing to do with the sheep.
But with what they reminded him of.
Then the church bells began to ring as if all hell really had broken loose.
She knew she would have to go back. There really was no choice in the matter. Had there ever been, from the moment she’d woken up in Plymouth on the morning of the Princetown massacre?
She’d sensed something as she brushed her teeth and stared at her fine-boned features and slightly lost-looking blue eyes in the mirror. She’d somehow known that day would bring about a change in her life. Now all she could do was follow the path she’d 114
chosen; see where it led.
She had to go back to the truck. Had to see what that filthy grey eye belonged to.
Sod that! Go back to your cosy flat and boring job on your local rag, girl. Do it now before you change your mind again. Go now.
Please..?
What else could she do but ignore the voice? So back to the cemetery she went.
She approached it from the south side this time, from the narrow residential street at the top of the hill that gave access to the overgrown burial ground via a narrow single gate. Of course it was manned by UNIT soldiers. But there were only two of them, and she knew she’d be able to get past them.
She flounced up to them, all blonde hair and beautiful smiles.
She had undone a couple of buttons on her blouse for added effect, and she was not ashamed at all. One of the soldiers looked at her cleavage before looking at her eyes. The other watched her impassively. He might be a problem.
‘Sorry, miss: no entry,’ the impassive one said. The other smiled at her. She smiled back.
‘You have to help me: I left my purse in the cemetery yesterday, and I don’t want any of those hippies to find it.’
‘What were you doing in there yesterday?’
‘Your officer let me in specially,’ she lied smoothly. ‘It was the anniversary of my husband’s death. I wanted to visit