Doctor Who BBCN10 - The Nightmare of Black Island

by Doctor Who

  ‘Just curious. Thought I saw something out there. It’s probably nothing.’ The Doctor shot Rose a glance. Tomorrow I’ll make a proper investigation. We’ll sort this. I promise.’

  The meeting started to break up. Huddling together for safety, groups headed nervously out into the night, racing to the safety of 30

  cars and nearby houses. No one was prepared to walk far or alone.

  Even Bronwyn was escorted to a car by one of the locals.

  Beth squeezed the Doctor’s hand. ‘Thank you.’

  He gave her a reassuring smile and crossed the room to where Rose was sitting, dropping on to a stool and giving Ali a cheeky grin.

  The little girl was now starting to slump over her drawing book and her eyes were flickering shut. She gave a huge yawn.

  ‘Oh, don’t start that!’ said the Doctor. ‘You’ll set me off!’

  He gave a mock yawn, stretching theatrically in his seat. Ali regarded him suspiciously.

  ‘Come on, young lady.’ Beth came over and tousled her daughter’s hair.

  Ali’s smile faded. ‘Do I have to?’

  Beth nodded. ‘But I’ll read to you for a while if you like.’

  ‘Sounds like a good deal to me.’ The Doctor leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. ‘A nice story. No monsters. Moxx in Socks was always my favourite! “Moxx! Moxx in socks! Moxx in socks with Phlox!”’

  Rose rolled her eyes in despair and Ali giggled.

  ‘You’re silly,’ the little girl said.

  The Doctor nodded. ‘Yes, I probably am.’

  Beth hoisted her daughter into her arms, carrying her across the bar. At the door she stopped and turned back.

  ‘Doctor. . . ’

  The Doctor looked up. There was fear in Beth’s face.

  ‘Ali is all we’ve got. . . ’ Her voice trembled. ‘I don’t want to lose her.’

  The Doctor frowned. ‘What makes you think that you’re going to lose her?’

  ‘It’s just. . . These things, these monsters, that boy who died. . . ’

  The front door banged as Mervyn stepped back in from the car park, slamming home the bolts, glaring at his wife.

  Beth shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. You’ll stay here tonight?’

  The Doctor smiled at her. ‘Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to a trek back through the woods.’

  ‘I’ll get Mervyn to make up the guest rooms in the attic for you.’

  31

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about me.’ The Doctor waved a hand. ‘I’ve got some thinking to do. But if you could sort out a bed for Rose.’

  ‘All right. If you’re sure. Goodnight, Doctor.’ She smiled at Rose.

  ‘Mervyn will have your room ready in a few minutes. And thank you again, both of you.’

  The Doctor watched, puzzled, as Beth and her husband vanished up the stairs.

  Rose leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘Not sure.’ The Doctor pursed his lips, then picked up some of the drawings Ali had left on the table..

  ‘Beth’s not telling us something,’ Rose continued.

  The Doctor perched his glasses on the end of his nose and peered at the drawings. ‘Yes, you’re right, but we’re not going to find out anything more tonight.’

  ‘So what’s going on here, eh? And what’s with the old biddy? She’s definitely got the hump about something. . . You think that she’s right, that it’s something to do with this bloke at the rectory?’

  ‘Bronwyn’s another lady with secrets, that’s for certain. But retired industrialists breeding creatures and letting them loose in the woods?

  Doesn’t feel right to me.’

  ‘It’s spooked the kids here, though,’ said Rose. ‘They’re terrified.’

  ‘I’m not surprised with things like this roaming through the local woods!’

  As if on cue, there was a guttural roar from outside. The Doctor dropped the drawings back on to the table with a deep sigh. ‘I think we should pay a visit to Nathaniel Morton at the rectory and then get out to the lighthouse. But we’re not going to be able to do much in the dark if those creatures are still active, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to wait until morning. You’d better get up to bed.’

  32

  The morning sun came up bright and harsh over the sea, sending tendrils of mist spiralling into the air from the wet bracken. Ali crept through the damp undergrowth, keeping to the shadows of the rectory’s long stone perimeter wall. The house itself loomed ahead of her, vast and imposing, wet slates glinting in the morning light, the windows dark and ominous.

  She looked back at the gateway, where a cluster of expectant faces were watching her. She could hear Billy Palmer urging her on.

  ‘Go on! Just do it!’ he hissed. ‘Hiding in the shadows is no good!’

  Ali turned back towards the house. The wall surrounded an untidy garden that was bordered with gravel paths. Rhododendron bushes that had been allowed to grow wild towered over walls and straggly-looking shrubs fought their way through the brambles in the flowerbeds.

  She broke cover, sprinting across the wet grass, not wanting to use the gravel path in case the noise gave her away. She reached the large broken birdbath that stood in front of the house and hunched down behind it, her heart pounding.

  The door was right opposite her now. The big black door with its 33

  peeling paint and old-fashioned knocker. Ali took another look back at her friends. They were all urging her on. She closed her eyes, trying to control her fear. All of them had done this. She was the only one left. She had to do it.

  She wanted to do it.

  Taking a deep breath, she darted across the lawn crouched low, not daring to look up at those horrible black windows in case a face appeared in one of them. She ducked into the porch, grabbing the big brass knocker and letting it crash back against the door. Once. Twice.

  Three times. She could hear the noise echoing around the hallway of the damp old house.

  Giddy with excitement, Ali whirled and hared back across the lawn to her waiting friends. She’d done it! She’d done it! She was part of the gang. When she reached the gate, most of that gang were already running, laughing and shoving at each other.

  Billy Palmer had waited for her and was now grinning like a loon.

  ‘Didn’t think you were gonna do it!’

  ‘It was easy,’ lied Ali.

  Giggling, the two of them ran to catch up with their mates.

  Nathaniel Morton watched from the first-floor window as the small girl emerged from the shadow of the house, scampering across his lawn to join her friends.

  ‘Do you want the children punished?’

  Morton turned to the white-coated figure at his shoulder.

  ‘Of course not!’ he snapped. ‘They are important to us, Peyne, remember that. As long as our “guests” were not disturbed.’

  ‘They sleep. The medication ensures that.’

  ‘Last night’s test was successful?’

  ‘Satisfactory. Do you need help returning to the lower levels?’

  ‘I can manage!’

  The figure gave a shrug and turned from the window. ‘Then I shall return to my duties.’

  Morton watched with distaste as the figure left, the white coat gleaming in the dark of the room. It was like watching a ghost. Dust 34

  swirled from the floorboards, leaving footprints clearly visible in a trail to the door. Morton sighed. It had been a long time since anyone had cared about the appearance of the house. Certainly his ‘colleagues’

  had no interest in its upkeep. It was a place in which to work, a place for them to finish what had been started so long ago.

  Morton gripped the arms of his ancient wheelchair. A place for them to finish it. And he so desperately wanted it to be finished.

  He pushed himself away from the window, wheels squealing on the wooden floor, and moved away from the light and into the gloom of the house.

  Rose an
d the Doctor strode up the hill towards the rectory, the Doctor munching on a slice of toast. He’d already had a gargantuan breakfast and Rose couldn’t believe he was still eating.

  Her night had been an unsettled one, though the room was comfortable enough. The Hardys were obviously used to making their guests feel at home and Rose had been given a small, cosy attic room, with low beams supporting the ceiling and soft pillows on the bed.

  But the night had been full of strange noises: a girl crying in her sleep – Rose had assumed that was Ali – and deeper, more unfamiliar sounds carried on the wind. Creatures stalking the woods and cliff tops. She had lain there, listening to the roars. It was unbelievable really, monsters prowling a seaside town and the locals accepting it as if it was something normal. But then, so much of her life these days was unbelievable.

  She had eventually fallen into a troubled sleep in the early hours of the morning, only to be woken what seemed like minutes later by the Doctor hammering energetically on her door and shouting for her to stir her stumps.

  Groaning, Rose had dragged herself out of bed and trudged downstairs a little later to find the Doctor in the restaurant. He was tucking into a huge cooked breakfast, bright-eyed and eager, the morning papers spread out on the table in front of him. Rose had slumped down opposite him, pouring herself a huge mug of coffee from the jug on the table.

  35

  ‘You’re one of those annoying people who actually like mornings, aren’t you?’ she said accusingly, helping herself to some toast from the rack.

  The Doctor had grinned at her. ‘The creatures only seem to turn up after dark, so we need to make the most of the available daylight!

  Besides, young Ali and her friends were up and out hours ago, and I want to see if we can catch up with them.’

  Rose had been surprised. ‘They let her go out on her own?’

  The Doctor had just shrugged.

  ‘They know the days are safe.

  They’ve started to build these creatures into their normal routine. Humans are adaptable like that.’

  ‘Looks like you had a productive night.’ Rose nodded at the dismantled phone that was spread out across one of the pub tables.

  ‘Trying to get a fix on that interference. Haven’t traced it yet, but give me time.’

  The Doctor had continued to eat until Rose was certain that he was going to burst. Then he jumped to his feet, wiped the egg yolk from his plate with another piece of toast and announced that it was time to pay Nathaniel Morton a visit. Beth had told them the best way to get up to the rectory and the two of them had set off in bright morning sunlight.

  Daylight made the village look completely different. Shops were open, locals were out in the street buying groceries, boats bobbed in the little harbour. A normal Welsh fishing village.

  They made their way up the hill, past the estate they had passed through the previous night. The rectory was just visible now on a jutting strip of headland, bordered by a long, high wall and towering beech trees.

  Rose turned and looked back at the view. Out in the bay the lighthouse loomed from its tangle of black rock, seagulls swirling around it. It made her shiver. While daylight made everything else look cheerier, it somehow accentuated the lighthouse’s brooding presence.

  ‘Come on!

  No time for gawping!’

  said the Doctor indistinctly

  through a final mouthful of toast.

  36

  ‘I wasn’t gawping at the view, I was looking at the lighthouse,’ said Rose indignantly. ‘I thought you were planning on getting out there.’

  ‘Yes, that’s next on the list, but I want to see Mr Morton first. Got a gut feeling about him.’

  Laughter suddenly cut through the morning air and a gang of half a dozen children ranging in age from about ten to about twelve bar-relled around the corner, almost cannoning into them.

  The children skidded to a halt. At once the laughter stopped and they stared at the Doctor and Rose suspiciously, their faces a mixture of bravado and fear, a look that Rose recognised from all children who have just been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

  The Doctor obviously recognised the look too. He stood with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his coat, staring at them with mock sternness.

  ‘Hello. And where are you lot heading off to in such a hurry?’

  One of the older boys, with a tangle of untidy blond hair, looked back at him defiantly. ‘None of your business, is it?’

  ‘None at all!’ said the Doctor cheerfully. ‘I’m just being nosy. Can’t help it. See something I don’t know about, have to stick my hooter in!’

  There was the patter of feet and more high-pitched laughter, and two other figures hared into view. It was Ali with a boy.

  ‘Ahl I might have known,’ cried the Doctor. ‘Little Ali! It’s always the small ones you’ve got to watch.’

  ‘I’m not small!’ Ali frowned.

  The boy with her clenched his fists. ‘She doesn’t like being called small.’

  Rose stifled a smile. ‘He’s keen,’ she muttered.

  The boy obviously heard her and reddened. ‘Do you know him?’ he asked.

  Ali nodded. ‘He’s a doctor. He’s staying with Mum and Dad. That’s Rose.’ Ali gave her a shy smile.

  The kids suddenly looked worried and the blond boy took a step backwards.

  ‘What’ve they called a doctor for? We don’t need any doctor.’

  37

  The Doctor shook his head. ‘I’m not any doctor, I’m THE Doctor.

  Completely different. We’re off to investigate the rectory. A lady called Bronwyn thinks it might have something to do with the creatures in the woods. What do you think?’

  The children shuffled awkwardly again.

  ‘Dunno what you mean.’ The blond boy wouldn’t meet the Doctor’s gaze.

  ‘Really?’ The Doctor dropped on to his haunches, bringing him head height with Ali. ‘’cause Ali here certainly does, and she’s not remotely scared of talking about them.’

  ‘I’m not scared.’ The boy was angry again. ‘Not scared of the monsters or you or them at the rectory!’

  ‘So you’ve been there?’

  The boy clenched his jaw. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘We play dare,’ piped up Ali. ‘We’ve all done it now. Even me.

  Knocking at the door. Hiding from them.’

  ‘Hiding from who?’ asked Rose.

  Ali shrugged. ‘Dunno who they are. They wear masks. Like in hospital. And white coats. We’ve seen. . . ’

  The boy standing next to her dug her in the ribs with his elbow and she stopped.

  ‘Seen what?’ Rose crouched down next to the Doctor. ‘What have you seen? You can tell us, honest.’

  Ali looked around her friends, then shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Come on. What are we hanging around here for?’ And with that the blond boy set off down the hill at a jog, shouting back over his shoulder, ‘He’s not a teacher or our parents. We don’t have to talk to him.’

  The rest of the gang started to run after him, Ali with them. She stopped and looked back at Rose for a moment, then hurried to catch up her friends.

  Rose straightened. ‘She so wants to tell us something.’

  ‘She did tell us something. Figures at the rectory with surgical masks dressed in white lab coats.’

  ‘The people you saw last night, by the sea!’

  38

  ‘Yes.’ The Doctor nodded. ‘Come on. Let’s see if we can play dare too.’

  The two of them set off along the narrow lane again. Before long they turned a corner and there were the gates of the rectory, tall and imposing. And unlocked. They didn’t look as though they had been used for years, ivy and brambles twining through the rusted iron bars.

  Beyond them they could see the house itself at the end of a curving gravel drive.

  ‘Very nice!’ The Doctor was impressed. ‘Old Nathaniel’s definitely a local boy made g
ood, eh?’

  Rose grimaced and crunched up the drive after the Doctor. The house was cold and dour-looking, enough to give the kids nightmares with or without monsters. There was a flicker of movement at the edge of her vision and she looked up in time to see heavy curtains on the first floor swing back into place. She hurried over to join the Doctor on the porch.

  ‘Someone knows we’re here.’

  ‘Good. Not much point in coming all this way to find no one at home.’

  The Doctor grasped the heavy brass knocker and rapped forcefully on the door. From inside Rose could hear the sound of movement, footsteps on a hard floor, and then, with a clatter of keys and bolts, the door swung open.

  An imposing thin-faced woman in a pristine white lab coat stood in the doorway, regarding them imperiously.

  The Doctor held out a hand, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Good morning. I’m Dr. . . Jones. . . and this is my PA, Miss. . . Evans. We have an appointment to see Nathaniel Morton.’

  The woman looked at the Doctor’s outstretched hand with distaste, making no move to take it. ‘An appointment?’

  ‘Well, I say appointment. It’s not exactly an appointment. . . it’s not like we booked it with his secretary or anything. You’re not his secretary, are you?’

  The woman glared at him.

  ‘Course you’re not. Silly of me. Well, it’s a bit more informal than 39

  that. Less of an appointment, more of a ‘drop by if you’re passing’

  sort of thing. Not that Mr Morton said that as such, it’s just we were passing and we thought we’d drop by. . . ’ The Doctor tailed off. ‘He does actually live here, doesn’t he? Mr Morton?’

  ‘I’ll deal with this, thank you, Miss Peyne.’

  With a squeak of tyres, an ancient wheelchair rolled from the shadows. The man sitting in it was pale and gaunt, with wisps of grey hair lying untidily over his head. The wheelchair slid to a halt and the man looked up at the Doctor quizzically.

  ‘I’m Nathaniel Morton. You have business with me?’

  His voice was weak and wavering but his eyes blazed with a fierce intelligence and Rose got the impression of someone very dangerous trapped within that frail body.