The Ghosts of N-Space - Barry Letts [31]
He hadn’t bothered to change. But then his usual costume wasn’t so very far away from the period. They’d just think him a trifle eccentric. So what else was new?
While she’d been away playing dressing-up games, the TARDIS had apparently arrived; and when they went outside, the Doctor was obviously very gratified to find that it had landed in the depths of the woods on the east side of the island, not far from a little beach. Sarah could see the castello high above them, romantically silhouetted against 110
the massing clouds piled up like mountain crags in an epic landscape painting.
She started to climb the hill.
‘Not that way, my dear,’ said the Doctor. She couldn’t help noticing that his manner towards her had undergone something of a sea change since she’d become a demure young lady.
He strode down the hill towards the beach. ‘Why? What are we going to do?’ she said as she caught him up on the golden sand.
‘We’re going for a swim,’ he said, continuing into the choppy water without a break in his stride.
‘But Doctor…!’
He turned, nearly waist-deep already, to look at her standing at the edge of the surf like the timid maiden her appearance suggested. ‘Come on in, the water’s fine!’ He’d flipped at last. She’d have to humour him: go in for a paddle at least.
She started to slip off her pumps.
‘No, no! Don’t take anything off. That’d ruin everything!’
Oh well, in for a penny…
Wading after him, she was soon up to her shoulders.
She must have flipped as well! The water was chilly, to say 111
the least, and her flimsy dress and petticoat kept floating up and getting in the way of her walking.
‘Doctor, are you sure this is a good idea?’ she said earnestly. But the Doctor had a gleam in his eye and the bit between his teeth.
‘That’s the ticket. Now, dunk your head – no, bonnet and all!’ and as if to provide her with a good example he bent his legs and disappeared under the next wave.
Taking a deep breath, she followed suit, completely mistiming her return to the surface and ended up choking on a large mouthful of salt water.
‘Well done!’ he said, as she spluttered incoherent curses. ‘That’s excellent. Shall we go in now?’
All became clear about ten shivering minutes later when a small fishing boat came sailing round the headland to the north of the little bay. At once the Doctor started waving his arms and shouting for help; and Sarah had no trouble: it all playing her part, as this odd English gentleman explained to the concerned fishermen from Porto di Minore that he had had the misfortune, whilst out sailing with his niece, to suffer a capsize as a result of the rising wind; his boat, which was not all it should be (as he had to admit), had finally foundered in the deep channel, leaving them to swim to shore.
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So it was that, being without doubt gentry, they were not only carried to the harbour and given hot goat’s milk to drink, but also, wrapped in coarse grey woollen blankets, were escorted up the hill to the castle.
‘I just don’t get it, hon,’ said Maggie. ‘If you were ready to torch the mob…’ She broke off as she saw the gathering ire in his face. ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, I was awake. So what? But if that’s the way you want to play it, why start pussyfooting around with this Barone guy? If you want the castello, take the goddam thing.’
Now fully dressed (in a bikini), she was lying on a recliner on the after deck of the Princess M. (She’d been really touched when he called it that. It was almost like being given the boat.)