Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [17]
The Doctor grabbed her by the shoulders and stared straight at her. 'It's al coming together. It looks like we need to catch up with current affairs. Come on, Bernice, let's get back to the control room!' He leapt up and bounded for the door.
Benny glanced down at the little soil sample. 'Now look what a fine mess you've got me into,' she scolded it.
***
The policeman in the vil age had seen him, looked straight at him. Christian had been forced to smile back at him.
What else could he have done? Broken his neck in the middle of the street? The constable hadn't shown a glimmer of recognition. Later, though, when he saw the new 'Wanted' posters up at his station, he'd remember.
Freedom. After twenty years, Alexander Christian could hardly remember what it was like to walk down a street, to see the young girls in their colourful summer outfits and the birds landing in the trees. Children with ice cream, mothers with prams. Fashions had changed, of course, that's what fashions did. Other little things were different: the cars were more streamlined, with odd rounded fronts and there were radio telescopes on the side of some houses - no doubt the latest hobby, like he used to build crystal sets when he was a kid.
Christian had reached the little supermart on the corner of the main street. A sign on the door read 'Open Today As Usual'. He straightened out his jacket, trying to look respectable, then he walked in. The bell above the door jangled as he closed it behind him. An old woman was behind the counter, stroking a large white cat.
'Hello,' he said - a word he'd not used for a long time - 'Could you tell me where the nearest phone box is?' He scratched the cat's nose.
'There's a pay phone just there, behind you,' she replied cheerful y. The cat looked set to follow him over, until the woman caught hold of it. 'Stay here, Stevie.'
Christian thanked her and moved over to it. He checked the number for directory enquiries and then dialled it. Or rather he tapped out the number - the phone had buttons rather than a dial.
After a couple of rings, a young man's voice asked which name he wanted. Christian told him and there was a pause, punctuated by the clacking of a keyboard. The whole system must be computerised by now.
'I'm sorry, sir, I can't find that name.'
'It's double-barrelled. With a hyphen.'
'And you don't know the area?'
'No. There can't be many with that surname.'
'I'll just try again.'
A four-second pause, more clacking. The line was crystal clear.
'I've found it, sir, but it's ex-directory.'
18
'Ex-directory?'
'A lot of teachers are ex-directory, sir.'
Teachers? Well, it had been twenty years. 'Can't you give it to me? It's an emergency.'
'I'm sorry, we can't.'
'Can you give me the address?'
'We don't give out addresses. Security. You could be an escaped nutter or anything.'
Christian decided not to argue the point.
'Could you at least tell me the county?'
'No, I'm sorry.'
'OK.' He hesitated for a moment, racking his brains. 'Katherine, with a "K", the same surname.'
A different voice, a recorded one, rattled out a number, then repeated it. Christian didn't have a pen, he committed the number to memory. He cut the connection, got a dialling tone, then tapped in the phone number: 0122 69046.
***
The Doctor was striding back towards the console, which in the new scheme of things stood on a hardwood plinth in the centre of the vast control room. Immense iron girders sprouted from the floor and arched overhead, forming a canopy.
Wolsey detached himself from a chaise-longue and jumped over for attention. The Doctor strolled past him, his attention fixed straight ahead. Benny bent down and scratched the tabby cat under the chin. He was almost embarrassingly grateful.
'Has he been neglecting you?' Benny asked seriously.
'Miaow,' replied Wolsey. The little cat was happy enough. Why wouldn't he be with al this antique furniture lying around from him to claw and leave hair al over? Benny noticed the question-mark umbrella gathering dust on top of a filing