Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [61]
Now the general sat with his chin on his hand, peering up at the ceiling as he framed yet another inquiry.
John Thurloe stood close by Cromwell’s chair, regarding the two strangers with cool interest, while Richard sat in the corner, anxious to see how the mystics performed.
‘Say that England be a republic, then,’ said Cromwell airily. ‘In that event, should we strive for closer links with our cousins?’
The Doctor cocked his head. ‘Cousins?’
‘Aye,’ said Cromwell. ‘Our Protestant allies across the sea.’
‘Oh, them,’ murmured the Doctor. ‘Well, what did you have in mind?’
Thurloe rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘We have spoken of this before, General. It could never happen.’
Cromwell thumped his fist against the arm of his chair.
‘But why not? Surely it is only logical.’
Jamie was puzzled. ‘What could never happen?’
Thurloe sighed. ‘The general thinks that closer integration with our neighbours is desirable.’
Cromwell pointed to his aide. ‘John here will have none of it, but I say why not? An England allied to... the Low Countries, say, would be far more of a force on the international stage.’
The Doctor steepled his fingers. ‘European integration, eh? It’s a nice idea.’
Cromwell pointed to Jamie. ‘What say you, McCrimmon?
Will it happen?’
Jamie looked a little worried but, as usual, leaned towards the Doctor and whispered nonsense in his ear.
The Doctor nodded slowly, as though receiving information of the utmost sagacity. Finally, he sat up, clearing his throat. ‘The McCrimmon says it is almost inevitable. But not for a very long time. And there’ll always be trouble with Euro-sceptics.’
Cromwell frowned. ‘With what?’
The Doctor folded his arms across his chest. ‘A figure of speech, General. It means an... er... irritant, a bothersome thing.’
Cromwell nodded his understanding, ‘Like Lilburne and his Levellers,’ he said sourly. ‘God, they afflict me like the piles.’
He smiled cheerily. ‘What say you, Doctor? Are these urrosceptics of yours not like winners on a man’s backside?’
The Doctor smiled tightly. ‘Quite.’
Cromwell laughed and smacked his knee. ‘Now then, I must away. There is much work to do in preparation for the King’s trial.’ His face suddenly darkened and his tone became serious. ‘I must ask you one thing, finally.’
The Doctor and Jamie nodded simultaneously.
Cromwell chose his words carefully. ‘If the King dies, who should rule in his place?’
Thurloe shot a look at the Doctor, which the little man did his best to avoid. He rotated his thumbs and glanced at Jamie, who was trying to shrink back in his chair.
At last, the Doctor spoke. ‘Such a question demands time, General. There are many twisting pathways that the future might take. I should hate for the McCrimmon to give you bad advice.’
Cromwell nodded. ‘There’s much wisdom in your words, Doctor. You shall have all the time you require.’
He rose and bowed to them and then walked swiftly from the room.
Thurloe looked at the Doctor again, a quizzical expression on his long, horsy face. ‘Yes, Doctor, take your time, but not too long. And please don’t disappoint me with your answer.’
With that, he swept from the room, leaving the Doctor and Jamie alone with Richard.
‘Hal’ he exclaimed. ‘You did not say one thing that was not fudge and fumble!’
‘Oh, I don’t know...’ said the Doctor.
Richard got up and stalked towards them. ‘Now, Doctor, tell me the truth. Will this nation be a republic? And will my father be its sole ruler?’
The Doctor decided to change tack. He assumed a rather fearsome expression which somehow seemed all the more frightening to Richard on such an unassuming little man.
‘Richard Cromwell,’ he said gravely, ‘you must take us to your chambers and deliver unto us this strange book.’
Richard swallowed nervously. ‘I must?’
The Doctor nodded slowly. ‘Then – and only then – will all the mysteries of time be opened to you.’
Richard licked his dry lips and nodded to the guard, who had come to escort the Doctor and Jamie back to their room.
‘Very well. Come with me. I’ll speak