Doctor Who_ The Adventures of Henrietta Street - Lawrence Miles [109]
The names matched the names on Scarlette’s thirteen red envelopes. In spite of everything, the guests were still expected to come. From the four corners of the Earth they’d begun to warily circle the Caribbean, watching what the others did before they set foot on the island and committed themselves to the Doctor’s ‘party’.
But on October 24, circumstances would change once again. For the last few weeks there’d been more and more talk of the Countess of Jersey, of how this vain, snobbish and generally unpleasant woman seemed to have suddenly altered in nature. Furthermore, she’d witnessed the death of her co-conspirator the Lord on the same night that Juliette had vanished, and Fitz – with his usual adventurer’s spirit – had concluded that there might be a connection. That afternoon, he went with Rebecca to visit the Countess, and although the Lady refused to grant him an audience this research trip was indeed useful.
What Fitz discovered will be dealt with in due course: but he and his friends were distracted from this lead by what happened immediately after the non-interview. Fitz and Rebecca returned to the hollow shell of the House, where they found nobody home except for the Doctor. When they entered the salon, the Doctor was standing in the corner beside his TARDIS. He was leaning against the side of the box, one hand spread out across its doors, as Scarlette later put it (with her usual gift for embellishing events she didn’t witness) ‘as if attempting to draw new strength from its very wood’. In his other hand, the Doctor was holding a piece of paper and the torn envelope in which it had arrived.
There’s no indication of how the note was delivered. But the Doctor’s eyes were fixed on it when Fitz and Rebecca stepped into the room, darting backwards and forwards over the page, apparently attempting to take in the full weight of its contents. Fitz later commented that he felt the Doctor was continually reading and re-reading the same sentence.
The nature of the letter is no secret. It was from Juliette, her first communication since her disappearance. It began addressing itself to ‘Dr Jack-of‐the-Moon’, but only the top four inches of the page survive: the rest was, at some later point, torn away. So it’s hard to say exactly what sentence caught the Doctor’s attention. Knowing the Doctor, it was most likely a deeply personal passage rather than some great revelation. The consequences are clearer:
Then Jack looked up… having absorbed the essentials of the letter. He was a pale man at that moment. It was Mr. K. who caught his eye. There was, I’m told, a pleading look on his face when he addressed his oldest elemental companion. Yet all he said were the simple words: ‘She’s not coming back.’
…I do not believe these words were the intent of the letter. I believe that in saying this, my friend was only facing the truth which he has for so long put to the back of his mind. No doubt it was something in the tone of this note which allowed him to confront what we all have felt these past days. Mr. K was unable to console him, for he knew it was true.
Jack said one more thing then. Mr. K. could not divulge what the word was, for it was pained and in no recognised tongue. The word was not yet complete when Jack abruptly fell forward, and Mr. K. hurried to keep him from striking the floor.
A single word, spoken by the Doctor. It’s almost reminiscent of the ‘magic word’ said to be held by Sabbath, which (the stories say) he’d inscribed on the rear of every steel plate on board the Jonah. One could very nearly believe that the Doctor was saying Sabbath’s word, in a last desperate attempt to escape the physical plane and remove himself from the situation in which he’d arrived.
It evidently did him little good. The Doctor collapsed, and Fitz only just caught him. Scarlette records that there was ‘a black bile’ from the Doctor’s mouth after he lost consciousness, which may be colourful storytelling or even a metaphor (even as late