Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [107]
He turned at the sound of her voice, his boots crunching on the frozen ground.
‘Mistress Polly?’
‘You didn’t say goodbye,’ said Polly, pulling a face.
He gave a small, formal bow. ‘God be with you, Polly.’
He made to go but Polly held his arm. ‘Must it end like this?’
Whyte’s expression melted into a tender smile. ‘I wish there could be some other way. But I must flee the country now. You know of the plot against Cromwell – the King’s cause is as dead as he will shortly be. They will surely come for me.’
Polly found tears welling in her eyes. ‘I am... grateful for your kindness,’ she managed to say.
Whyte lifted her face by the chin and kissed her on the lips. ‘Goodbye, fair Polly,’ he said.
He was about to turn and go when he seemed struck by a thought. He opened the clasp at the top of his coat and felt about inside under his shirt. His fingers found a silver chain and he lifted out an oval locket which was attached to it. He slipped the chain over his head and dropped the trinket into Polly’s palm.
‘Here,’ he said softly. ‘To remember me by.’
Polly felt the weight of the locket in her hand and then clicked the spring. It opened to reveal a beautiful, delicate miniature of Christopher Whyte’s handsome face.
‘It is a thing of vanity,’ he said with a smile. ‘Take it.’
Polly was charmed. ‘I couldn’t possibly...’
Whyte clasped her hand with his and closed her fingers over the locket. ‘Take it. I have many of the damned things.’
He held on to her hand for what seemed like minutes, then with a small, sad smile turned and disappeared into the darkness without looking back.
Polly stood in silence, her head bowed.
She clasped the locket in her hand and shot a quick glance back at the inn. Then, with a heavy heart, she began to follow him.
The morning dawned bright and sparkling. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue, despite the cold, and Jamie felt immensely cheered as he drew back the curtains in his quarters.
Ben, exhausted by his exertions, was still sound asleep.
Even the shaft of sunlight that fell across his face failed to wake him. Neither the Doctor nor Polly was anywhere to be seen and so Jamie made his way swiftly downstairs, hoping to catch Thurloe or even Cromwell.
He entered into the chamber where he and the Doctor had conducted most of their bogus fortune-telling and came across Thurloe poring over a scrolled document. He looked round as Jamie approached and smiled pleasantly.
‘Ah! The McCrimmon of Culloden I presume.’
‘Aye,’ said Jamie. ‘Good morning, MrThurloe.’
Thurloe nodded. ‘It is indeed if we are to see the King once again in our custody and the general saved from an assassin’s blow.’
Jamie looked round. ‘Where is everybody?’
‘Making the preparations,’ said Thurloe darkly. ‘If the conspirators are not to suspect anything then we must go on as normal. I have arranged for yourself, the Doctor, and Master Jackson to mingle among the members in the Commons. The Doctor will tell you what we plan to do.’
He turned back to the document and spoke over his shoulder. ‘There is a carriage awaiting you. If you would be so good as to awaken your colleague I should be infinitely obliged.’
Jamie went straight back upstairs and shook Ben until he unwillingly woke. Groaning, he stared blearily at the plain Puritan garb that had been laid out for them both to wear.
After a hesitant start, they both found themselves in hysterics as they clambered into the strange, ill-fitting clothes.
Jamie’s collar made him look like an overgrown choirboy and Ben’s hat was far too big for him, but eventually they both made their way into the cold, fresh morning.
They found the Doctor outside in the open carriage, lost in thought. Bells were pealing madly as though the whole city were celebrating, but the Doctor seemed unaffected by it all.
He smiled as Ben and Jamie climbed in beside him.
‘Where’s Pol?’ asked Ben.
The Doctor leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. At once, they began to move off. ‘She’s joining us later,’ he said, sitting back down.
Jamie inhaled deeply of the crisp