Doctor Who_ Rip Tide - Louise Cooper [31]
'Right.' There was an awkward pause, then she added, 'I think I'll go home now.'
'Of course.'
'Sorry I wasted the food. I just didn't ...'
'It doesn't matter. Would you like me to walk you to your house?'
Yes, said the demon. 'No,' said Nina. 'Thank you. And for ...' She waved a hand at the table.
'My pleasure. Perhaps another time we might both feel more like eating.'
'Yeah.' Her jacket was draped over the back of the chair and she wouldn't let him help her on with it. ''Night, then.'
'Goodnight. I hope to see you tomorrow.'
'Yeah, well ...' She didn't want to finish that sentence either, and she hurried out of the bistro without looking back.
The door closed behind her, and as her vague figure flitted past the picture window the Doctor knew that she was peering in. He did not look up. He refilled his wine glass, then drew his plate back towards him and carefully piled the contents of Nina's on to it. Pity to see good food go to waste.
He began to eat heartily.
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Lying in bed that night, Nina resolved that no power on earth was going to get her anywhere near that rented cottage tomorrow morning, or at any other time.
At twelve-thirty the next day, she walked in through the garden gate.
The timing, of course, was a deliberate compromise; later than the Doctor's deadline, but not so late that he was sure to have given up on her completely. She wanted – needed – to make the point that she would not automatically go along with what he wanted, that she was independent, careful, sensible ...
The front door opened as she approached it, and the Doctor, wearing a loose-sleeved white shirt and very well-cut jeans, and with his hair attractively uncombed, said, 'Hello.'
'Hello.' She stopped a wary two paces from him. 'You said you'd only be here till twelve.'
'I did, but I seem to be running behind schedule this morning.' He paused. 'Would you like to come in?'
He stood back, making no attempt to corner her, and as she looked past him Nina saw that the cottage's back door was also standing wide open. An escape route; his way, perhaps, of reassuring her that she had nothing to fear.
She took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. Following, and leaving the front door open, the Doctor went into the small kitchen. 'Would you like some tea? I was just going to put the kettle on.'
Suddenly, all Nina's muddled motivations crystallised into a single, sharply focused thought. She did not know what had goaded her to change her mind and keep this appointment – curiosity, worry about Steve, the Doctor's undeniable fascination (oh, don't be ridiculous!) – but whatever it was didn't matter. Only one thing counted: whether he could prove his claim beyond all possible doubt. She firmly believed that he couldn't. But until she had checked the proof for herself, there would always be that tiny, subversive element of doubt.
She said, 'No thanks. I'd rather just get this sorted.'
'Very well.' He emerged from the kitchen, and nodded towards the closed door that, presumably, led to the sitting room. 'Please, go in.'
Nina had a foolish fear that something shocking would happen when she touched the door handle. Nothing did, of course, and she turned the handle and opened the door.
The police telephone box stood where she had first seen it, in the middle of the room. Overnight she had worked out that it must be a cardboard fake, flat-packed and reassembled. It wasn't. It was uncompromisingly and undeniably solid, and it must have weighed a ton.
'How ...' But there was no point in asking and she changed the question. 'All right. What's in it?'
'See for yourself.' The Doctor took a very ordinary-looking key out of his jeans pocket, walked up to the box and unlocked the door. As it swung back he added, 'Ladies first.'
'No way. You first.'
He