Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [138]
'compact', but there was a perfectly serviceable kitchenette sort of thing, a nice bathroom, a study big enough for half a dozen students (if they breathed in) and all her books. Final y, there was the bedroom.
She flopped down onto the bed next to the Doctor, who was looking a bit sad. Wolsey brushed against her legs.
'You need a companion,' the Doctor announced.
'Won't you miss him?'
'I'll miss him.' He hesitated, brushing back a lock of hair. 'Look, Bernice, I don't like goodbyes, but sometimes... '
He produced a very large bottle of champagne and grinned. 'Napoleon gave this to me, for services rendered. The very first magnum of Brut Impérial. I've been saving it for a special occasion.'
He popped the cork.
'Er, this is a tremendous oversight on my part, but I don't have any wine glasses.'
'Mugs wil do.'
Benny unpacked a couple and the Doctor poured. When he had finished, they held them up. Wolsey watched the proceedings with interest.
'To the adventures of Professor Bernice Summerfield,' the Doctor declared.
'To a,' Benny paused for a moment, and then smiled, 'Doctor who might change, but won't ever die.'
'To the future, wherever and whatever it might be,' the Doctor said.
'The future,' Benny echoed.
They clinked their mugs together.
'I had better go,' the Doctor said quietly, when he had finished his champagne.
Benny hesitated, looking into those deep blue eyes of his. 'Yes. Look, before you leave, there's one thing I have to do. I'd never forgive myself otherwise.'
The Doctor looked puzzled. 'What would that - '
She grabbed the lapels of his frock coat, kissed him square on the mouth and pushed him down hard onto the bed.
Wolsey jumped out of the way.
123
Sunday, November 23rd 1997
It was a beautiful morning.
The bright winter sun poured through the stained glass of Westminster Abbey, bathing the Lords, Ladies, Gentlemen and television cameras assembled to witness a unique occasion: the only Recoronation in the history of the United Kingdom. Six months on, the Martian Invasion was a distant memory. One author, a man named Oswald, even claimed that there had never been any Martians, it had al been part of the coup leaders' conspiracy to divert attention while they seized power. His main observation was that few people had actual y seen a Martian, and no items of alien technology had been recovered. Any 'sightings' of the Martians or their ship could be put down to mass hysteria or ball lightning. Oswald's book had become a best-seller, and his theory was particularly popular in the United States of America.
Queen Elizabeth sat on the coronation throne, the Imperial State Crown on her head, restored to its former glory.
The Recoronation would clear the constitutional way for the election of a new Parliament. Every single surviving member of the Provisional Government was in prison, caught trying to flee the country they had betrayed. David Staines had been one of the first, found trying to catch a Eurostar while disguised as a woman. The resultant police mugshot was destined to become one of the most enduring images of the Invasion.
Representatives of every nation on Earth were calling 'God save the Queen'. The European Union, the United States and the Japanese had made generous reconstruction grants, although Britain would continue to remember their inaction during the Dying Days for some considerable years. There was a great deal that needed doing, especial y in the northern cities. Things were changing, there was a new sense of optimism, of hope for the future.
Perhaps it would get worse before it would get better, but everyone knew that it would get better.
Behind the various ambassadors and heads of state stood the senior military men and other heroes of the Invasion. Outside, the crowds were cheering again, the sound percolating through the thick walls of the Abbey.
'It's a shame the Doctor couldn't be here.'
'Oh but he is,