Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [52]
‘I am Christopher Whyte, lady.’
Polly was enchanted. ‘What can I do for you, Christopher Whyte?’
Whyte cleared his throat. ‘It is rather more what I can do for you.’
Polly smiled cheekily. ‘Oh, yes?’
‘Yes. You see, I have news of your friends.’
Polly almost seized him by the collar. ‘You do? Where?
Where are they?’
Whyte smoothed down his tunic and stepped back a little.
‘I have word that they are close by. In a castle on the Solent.’
Polly’s mouth turned downward. ‘On the Solent? What are they doing there?’
Whyte shrugged. ‘I know no more. But I can take you to them. Tomorrow.’
‘Why not now?’
Whyte shook his head and his hair rustled over his lacy collar. ‘No, no. It’s far too late. But they are safe, I swear to it.
You will see them tomorrow.’
Polly seemed dissatisfied with this, but gradually her expression softened. ‘Very well. As long as they’re safe.’
She glanced longingly at the comfortable bed. ‘I must admit, I wouldn’t mind getting my head down.’
Whyte laughed. ‘Getting your head down where?’
‘You know. Sleep.’
Whyte smiled. ‘Ah, yes. Sleep.’ He too cast his eye towards the bed but with a different look on his face altogether. He looked back to Polly and cocked his head.
‘Polly, you are like no woman I have ever known.’
‘I should hope not,’ she said with a giggle. Then she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek.
‘Goodnight, Christopher Whyte. And thank you.’
He held her gaze for a moment and then bowed. ‘Good night, Polly.’
Putting his hat back on his handsome head, he left the room, closing the door after him.
He lingered in the corridor for a moment, his face set in a deep frown, conflicting emotions chasing over his features.
Then he made his way up the stairs towards Sir John Copper’s chamber.
Ben flung himself back against the wall of the ramshackle barn as Stanislaus and Godley exited into the courtyard and made their way towards the street.
They’ seemed noticeably more relaxed and Godley clapped Stanislaus on the shoulder in a friendly fashion.
The captain flinched and scowled at Godley, who shrugged and removed his hand.
‘Well, friend,’ he said in a determinedly cheerful fashion,
‘that’s that. What say we have ourselves a little sport before turning in?’ Stanislaus’s face remained impassive until, slowly and almost unwillingly, a rather cruel smile crept over his features.
‘Why not? I know of a place. A place where we can buy...
entertainment for a few guilders.’
Godley was delighted and clapped his gloved hands together. ‘Excellent!’
He ushered Stanislaus forward. ‘Onward, my dear Captain.
Onward!’
They strolled away.
When the coast was clear, Ben stepped boldly back on to the street and peered through the darkness after the retreating figures.
‘Well,’ said Winter, chewing her lip. ‘They carried naught that I could see.’
Ben shook his head. ‘No. No package.’
He turned to the buxom captain. ‘What now? Should we follow them?’
Winter shook her head. ‘They’re on pleasure bent,’ she said. ‘And God help the Judies the Pole lays his claws upon.’
She thought for a moment, rubbing her silver nose as though for inspiration. ‘We’d best be getting aboard the Demeter, friend. She sails at dawn.’
Ben nodded. ‘Will we reach London first?’ he inquired anxiously.
‘God willing,’ said Winter. ‘It depends on all manner of things. Tide. Wind.’
‘Oh,’ said Ben disappointedly.
‘And the fact that I was a better captain at three years old than the Pole will be in all his lifetime!’ cackled Winter. ‘Of course we’ll get there before ’em. But what’s your plan, Ben?’
Ben shrugged. ‘I just want to find my friends, that’s all.’
Winter eyed him interestedly, her one eye twinkling. ‘And what of this mystery?’ Ben shrugged and then grinned. ‘Ha!
You’re a card, Ben Jackson,’ cried Winter, her fat face shaking. ‘I can read you like a book. You think there’s dirty work afoot, yes?’
Ben nodded urgently. ‘All I know is I’ve got a funny feeling that lot are up to something big. And I think we should find out what it is, don’t you?’
Winter drew herself