Doctor Who_ Return of the Living Dad - Kate Orman [29]
Chris sat up on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes. It had been like something out of a King Arthur sim. The hill was thick with grass and flowers, the air soft with summery smells. He had been wearing his uniform — no, some kind of old-fashioned armour, bulky and heavy but somehow familiar.
The Doctor had been dressed in his usual linen suit and white hat, but he didn’t seem out of place in the medieval landscape. He glanced back at Chris, as though to make sure he was still following, and smiled at him.
At the top of the hill there was a woman in white. ‘Is this your new steward?’ she asked the Doctor, glancing at a pocketwatch. ‘Or have you brought me a sacrifice?’
The Doctor turned around and looked at Chris again, an expression of surprise crossing his face.
Then his hand had gone to his shoulder. There was an arrowhead between his fingers, brilliant metal glinting in the sunlight.
The woman watched, impassive, as he stumbled down the hill to Chris.
But before Chris could catch the Time Lord, he had woken up... with the intense feeling that someone was watching him.
He froze on the edge of the bed. There was someone in the room with him, but he couldn’t see them. Where? Where were they?
After a few seconds the eerie sensation ebbed away. He couldn’t hear anything. He looked around, cautiously.
There wasn’t anyone here. It had just been a leftover feeling from the nightmare.
The window exploded inwards.
He jumped up with a yell. No, it hadn’t exploded, it had just blown open. The rain pounded into the room, drenching him as he struggled with the old-fashioned glass-and-wood structure, trying to work out how to make the two halves join up in the middle.
There was something else, as well. Not just the freezing water — bees! The room was suddenly full of the fat insects, droning as they looped through the air. What had they been doing out in the storm?
Chris fastened the window and shot out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He could still hear the insects through the door.
‘Gee,’ he said.
He’d better check that Roz was okay.
Except that his trousers were on the other side of the bedroom door.
The rest of the small cottage was quiet. He crept around, checking the windows and doors in the front room and kitchen, and tiptoed up the stairs.
Roz’s door was shut. He hovered. Should he knock, or just push it open and peek inside?
He nearly fell backwards over the banister when it opened of its own accord.
Roz blinked at him. She was wearing a set of flannel pyjamas two sizes too big for her. ‘What is it, Chris?’
‘Um,’ he said, wishing he was wearing something more than his socks and a pair of Daffy Duck boxer shorts.
Something weird just happened in my room.’
‘Yes?’ ‘Er, well, nothing much. Some insects got in. I just wanted to
make sure you were all right.’
‘I’m fine,’ yawned Roz.
‘Um, sorry...’
‘No sweat.’ She slapped his arm. ‘I think we’re all a bit on edge at the moment.’
Chris realized that his heart was thumping. She was less than a metre away, close enough for him to catch the soft scent of her skin and hair. Goddess, surely she knew, surely she could tell.
‘Well, if you’re sure you’re okay.’ he said, being casual.
‘I promise I’ll call you if a flying saucer comes to beam me away. Goodnight, Chris.’
She closed the door.
He went back downstairs, put an ear to the door of his bedroom. Was the buzzing sound still there? He wasn’t sure.
He got a spare blanket out of a cupboard, curled up awkwardly on the sofa, and dreamt about Roz’s pyjamas.
The Doctor seldom slept. Night on Earth was a good time to be up and doing things, while human beings were still and quiet and unlikely to interfere.
But, as he kept reminding himself, he was on holiday.
So he lay on top of the spare bed in the bungalow Joel and M’Kabel shared, his arms folded behind his head, and listened to the rain.
He thought about poor Woodworth huddled under her tent fly. He hoped she was wearing thick socks.
How could Little Caldwell have been here all this time, without his ever noticing it?