Doctor Who_ The Stone Rose - Jacqueline Rayner [4]
‘Then before you do anything else, a bite to eat and a sit‐down are on the menu. Come on.’
‘But hadn’t we better beware?’ said Rose happily. ‘You know, of, er, food poisoning…’
The Doctor frowned again.
‘All right. Let’s go get something to eat,’ she said. ‘Could we find a nicer bit of town, though?’
But Gracilis was shaking his head again. ‘No, no, no. There’s no time! I must continue my search!’
The Doctor was gentle but firm, almost as if he was a real doctor. ‘Food and rest. You’ll be no good to anyone till you’ve had those. And then – well, Rose and I are fond of a good search, aren’t we, Ro e?’
‘Love ’em,’ said Rose.
‘So you tell us what you’re looking for – and we’ll look for it with you. Deal?’
‘Er…’ said Gracilis. But the Doctor had already grabbed his hand and shaken it. ‘Deal.’
* * *
Once they got into the main part of the city the streets were much more crowded. ‘It’s like Oxford street at Christmas!’ gasped Rose, as the tenth or eleventh person shoved her out of the way.
‘Rome’s got a population of one million,’ said the Doctor.
‘Really?’ said Rose.
‘Yup.’ He started counting off passers‐by. ‘One, two, three –’
‘Yeah, all right, I believe you. But I think every single one of ’em’s heading in the opposite direction to us!’ She hopped out of the way of a particularly persistent pedestrian. ‘And they’re all drunk!’
‘It’s a festival day,’ the Doctor explained.
‘It is? Lucky us!’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘It’d have been more surprising if it wasn’t. To the Romans, almost every day is a festival of something or other.’
Rose grinned. ‘Lucky them!’
Finally the Doctor managed to forge a path towards what Rose would call a small cafe, although it probably had some fancy Latin name. Most of its customers were buying food to take out, but there were a few tables for those who wanted to sit down.
‘Sort of like Starbucks,’ said Rose. The Doctor fetched a pile of fruit pastries and three cups of spiced wine – which turned out to taste like boiled vinegar with cloves – while Rose led Gracilis to a bench.
Rose hadn’t realised how pale the old man was until she saw the colour coming back to his face with the wine and the pastry. ‘Thank you,’ he said to them for about the thirtieth time. ‘How can I ever I repay you? You must let me give you a reward.’ He began opening a pouch on his belt; there was the sound of coins chinking.
‘Oh, we don’t do rewards,’ said the Doctor, putting up a hand to refuse.
‘Really, we do this sort of thing for fun,’ Rose told Gracilis, seeing his puzzled expression. ‘So, what’re you searching for, then?’
The old man’s face blanched again and Rose felt quite alarmed. But he steadied himself and took a deep breath. ‘My son,’ he said. ‘My handsome, clever son, Optatus. He has gone missing. A boy – I should say, a man – of just sixteen!’
‘And you reckon he’s in Rome somewhere, then?’ asked Rose.
Gracilis sighed. ‘I do not know. My family is currently residing in our country villa, but it has been searched, and the lands all around. I thought of Rome – you know what boys are, always far too keen for their own good on the wild ways of the city. But I have looked and I have asked and I have begged in a manner quite unfitting for my position, and not a trace have I found.’
The cafe’s proprietor, a tubby man with food stains down his tunic, hadn’t troubled to hide the f t that he was listening to their conversation with interest. ‘Here, I know what you can do,’ he suddenly interjected.
Gracilis jumped from his seat. ‘You can help me find my son?’
‘Well, no,’ said the man. ‘Not find him exactly.’ Gracilis sank back down again. ‘But I reckon I know who can.’
He came out from behind the counter and flopped down on the bench next to Rose. His fishy odour overcame even the vinegary wafts from the wine and she had to make an effort not to flinch.
‘Well, don’t keep us in suspense,’ said the Doctor.
The man gave a loud sniff. ‘There’s this girl, see. They say she can tell the future, anything, just from looking