• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 541 0

looked all right to the Doctor, but of course it might not be the one that had caused the panic. A house like this was bound to have more than a single cat. It slunk around his legs, purring, and he picked it up and carried it with him to the far room.

light leaked from beneath the door. The Doctor tapped with his foot. 'May I come in?' No reply. He shifted the cat to a one-arm-and-shoulder hold and turned the knob. As if it were hung off-balance, the door swung slowly open.

The Doctor squinted into the shadows. The light came from an old, footed candelabra set in the middle of the floor - it took a second before he could discern what lay beyond that, then he saw a figure sitting on the edge of a narrow bed, bent and hiding beneath a bedspread. The bare, broken-nailed feet looked male.

'Teddy Acree?' said the Doctor. 'I believe you wanted to meet me.'

The figure shifted. A flap of bedspread fell back and Teddy Acree blinked at him. The skin beneath his eyes was so dark it looked bruised. After a minute he said, 'Who are you?'

'I'm the Doctor.'

'No doctor can help me.'

'Not that sort of doctor.'

'Not the sort that helps?'

The cat was nosing at the Doctor's ear. He shifted it down to his chest, petting it. 'What's the matter with you?'

'I like that,' said Teddy. 'Not "What's wrong with you?" but "What's the matter?"'

Then he was silent. He and his wife were the damnedest pair to try to get a conversation going with, thought the Doctor. He said, 'Would you like your cat?'

'That's not my cat. I've never seen that cat before in my life.'

'Ah. Well, perhaps you'd like to hold it anyway. It's very pleasant.'

'I'm not holding that cat,' said Teddy. 'I don't know that cat.'

As if recognising a rebuff, the cat squirmed from the Doctor's arms and ran out of the door. He looked after it. 'Why don't you ever go downstairs? Do you think you'd never find your way back?' He looked again at Teddy. 'I live in a place where the halls shift. Do the halls shift here?'

'Do you find your way back?'

'I don't particularly want to find my way back.' The Doctor crossed and sat beside him, not too close. 'Why did you want to see me?'

Teddy stared at him. He had dark, bright eyes, like a night bird. 'Do you like my wife?'

'I don't really know her'

'You could pose naked with her.'

'Erm,' said the Doctor, 'why would I want to do that?'

Teddy suddenly touched his face. The Doctor didn't move. He let the artist trace his features, like a blind man. 'I want you to model for me. You're perfect.'

'For what?'

'You're the angel of death.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'My next series.' Teddy took the Doctor's hand imploringly, like a little boy.

'I've been looking for the perfect face. Your eyes are like stones. I'd use opals for your eyes.'

'Really I don't think -'

'You don't have to pose nude. I just said that to persuade you. Most men would love to be naked with Swan.'

'Yes, I'm sure, but -'

'You have to. Please. You don't understand. I've been waiting for inspiration, for the gift.' His hold tightened. 'I've been waiting. Do you know what that's like? The helplessness. The waste. Time passes. I have to have you.'

'No.'

'What?'

'No.' The Doctor freed his hand and stood up, his face even paler than usual. 'I'm not the angel of death.'

'You are,’ whispered Teddy. 'The artist knows'.

The Doctor headed for the door.

'You have to!' Teddy shrieked. He leaped to his feet. The Doctor turned quickly, but Teddy stayed where he was, trembling. 'You don't understand!

My mind doesn't work! I don't know where anything is. Tears ran down his face. 'But I know where you are!' He fell on his knees, sobbing. The Doctor took a step back. "How can you say no? Don't you understand? There's no up or down, but / know where you are.

'Get out,' said Swan in the Doctor's ear. She pushed him from the room and slammed the door. He stood still, listening to the man's cries of grief and the woman's low, murmuring comfort.

When Swan came down the stairs an hour later, the Doctor