Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men - Keith Topping [76]
Trevor began to laugh, spitting blood from his mouth. „A stupid folk tale,‟ he said. „Judge Jeffreys killed all of the men of Hexen Bridge because he was possessed by Satan, who lives under the village green. Or something. I stopped believing in that stuff about the same time was I stopped believing in Father Christmas. And God.‟
„And yet everyone from Hexen Bridge has a darkness to their character,‟ said the Doctor.
„Haven‟t we all?‟ asked Denman.
„Not as dark as some of the things I‟ve seen recently,‟
continued the Doctor. „Where‟s this clinic?‟
„Surrey,‟ said Winstone.
„I think it‟s time we paid them a visit.‟
Bob Matson pushed his way through the copse, hoping to return to the road and stroll back into the village. Whatever noise was coming from A Taste of the Orient was lost to the enveloping whisper of the leaves and the stillness of the night.
Bob chuckled to himself. Joanna and the Chink thought they could get the better of him, but he‟d shown them now.
And there were even worse things he could do.
He reached for a hip flask of Scotch, and drank as if in celebration.
The wind whispered through the darkness and the trees, rustling leaves and... Was that footsteps? Bob shook his head. He knew that no one had followed him from the restaurant - the people there had other things on their minds
- so he was in the clear. And no one in Hexen Bridge would dare to confront him anyway. He ran the Jack in the Green pub; despite the new name, that still counted for something.
A twig snapped. Something was moving through the undergrowth, over towards the road.
„Who‟s there?‟ cried out Matson, his voice a clear and strong challenge in the still evening air. „Come on out, or I‟ll -‟
The snapping twig.
He‟d assumed it was someone blundering through the trees, their feet trampling around willy-nilly. But what if the twig was actually part of -
„No,‟ he said under his breath. „You can‟t send them after me...‟
And what if the whispering leaves weren‟t the summer zephyrs patrolling the hillsides, but the noise from one of...
them... stalking him?
Bob Matson ran now, blindly searching for the road. He could see its silvery-white trail through the stunted trees, and forced himself forward, overweight limbs pumping hard.
He burst out on to the welcome tarmac of the road, breathing heavily.
„Thank God,‟ he muttered, bent double with exhaustion.
Another rustling noise caused him to look up.
The scarecrows stepped out on to the road, forming a line.
Different faces, but all with the same, dead expression, stared back at him. Reflecting his terror and confusion.
And then Matson realised that he was on the road just beyond the village boundary. And the scarecrows were a cordon between him and the only place he had ever considered home.
Jack had expelled him from the village, and Robert Matson was utterly alone.
CHAPTER 11
HATFUL OF HOLLOW
„And for madam?‟
„Madam will have the same as what I‟m having,‟ said Matthew Hatch briskly. The waiter nodded and turned to leave just as Rebecca arrived back at the table.
„Sorry I was so long,‟ she said breathlessly.
„I‟ve ordered for you,‟ noted Hatch as he watched a young couple move towards their table. He tutted, and glanced back at Rebecca with a look of annoyance on his face. „Time was when you had to be dressed to get in this place. That man was wearing jeans.‟
„Call the manager immediately!‟ said Rebecca. „You know your trouble, Matt? You‟re a snob. Always have been.‟
„Nothing wrong with that,‟ noted Hatch. „There are too many ignorant plebs in the world. We need a good cull every now and then to thin them out.‟
„We haven‟t had a decent world war for a while,‟ noted Rebecca with a smile, sipping her vodka and lime.
„It‟s not for the want of trying,‟ continued Hatch.
He‟d forgotten how much he enjoyed these sparring encounters with Rebecca. For all her acquired sophistication, she was still a vicar‟s daughter from the sticks,