Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men Part 3

'Not exactly.'

'Then...'

'It's a long story.'

'I'm listening.'

'Let's go inside, and I'll tell you.'

Some stories have no ending, but they all have a beginning.

And in this case, the beginning came when the Doctor, then in his third incarnation, was exploring the area around the Wilts.h.i.+re village of Devil's End, after his defeat of the Daemon, Azal. The Doctor never quite knew what it was that made him take Bessie up the unmarked side road, the same road that, four regenerations later, he and Ace walked along before the intervention of the local milkman. But the Doctor had, and what he found made him curious.

'Perhaps it was the lack of birdsong,' he explained to Ace, reaching to right a toddler who had just collapsed, face down, in front of him. The child's mother emerged from the romantic fiction section and withdrew the boy without a word of thanks. An expression of fear had tightened the woman's soft, pleasant face, and Ace couldn't tell if she was afraid of them or of their conversation.

'There's certainly a strange, oppressive atmosphere over that village,' continued the Doctor at length. 'You'll see what I mean when we get there.'

'So that's where we're going?' quizzed Ace.

'That's where the battle will be fought,' continued the Doctor, using the same image as earlier. 'I always meant to return to Hexen Bridge and investigate further, but time never seemed to allow. In fact, it wasn't until my exile on this planet had come to an end that the place came to mind again. I was in the area once more. Another spot of bother, just a few miles down the road.'

'What happened?'

The Doctor paused. 'I've always thought I'd make a good teacher. The responsibility of disseminating information to young, inquiring minds...'

Ace was used to these tricks. 'Professor, you're changing the subject.'

'Am I?' said the Doctor absent-mindedly. 'That probably explains why Ian and Barbara and I got on so well, doesn't it?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I managed to get a place on the board of governors at the Hexen Bridge school. I've kept an eye on the place ever since.'

'And this?' asked Ace, gently tapping the invitation card.

'Oh yes, I've had that for decades. Of course, in Earth terms I would have picked it up two weeks ago from a dead-letter office in London. I'd almost forgotten about it. I mean, when I got it I had a different face. You know how it is.'

'And when is now now, incidentally?'

'The early years of the next millennium.'

'It's not changed much from my time,' said Ace.

'No,' smiled the Doctor. 'And that's why I like it.' He got to his feet, and made his way towards the stairs that led up into the reference department. 'To business.' He glanced back over his shoulder at Ace, grinning apologetically. 'It's not very exciting, but it will help to oil the wheels later on.'

'Really?'

'Oh yes.'

The Doctor spent the next couple of hours photocopying dozens of maps, photographs and pages from books of local history.

Ace found a recent newspaper and turned to the sports section. 'Aw,' she wailed. 'Look where Charlton are now. GM Vauxhall Conference...'

'It could be worse,' replied the Doctor. 'Have a look at a.r.s.enal.'

The Doctor and Ace struck up a conversation with Mark, a young librarian who had been keen to show the eminent visiting professor of history as much as he could. While Ace busied herself looking through a huge bundle of papers and feeding two-pound coins into the photocopier, the Doctor - having glanced around nervously in case of being overheard - asked Mark about Hexen Bridge.

'If you'd asked my old dad about Hexen you'd have got a right mouthful in return,' the young man replied.

'Is that so?'

'Yeah. All the old 'uns reckon it's a bad place. You bad place. You know what West Country traditions are like? They're stories to frighten the children, aren't they?' know what West Country traditions are like? They're stories to frighten the children, aren't they?'

'You don't believe in them, then?' asked the Doctor.

'Oh, no. Well...' Mark paused. 'I'll tell you something for nothing: very few people ever go anywhere near the place after dark. It's stupid, but for a long time there were stories of people going missing and the like. I suppose most folk think it's better to be safe than sorry.' He paused as he found another reference for the Doctor, which he slid across the desk towards him. 'There's a lot of local rivalry with the Hexen lads, mind you. We always called them "thick Hexies", and told the same sort of jokes about them as other people do with the Irish.'

The Doctor picked up a map of the area and circled Hexen Bridge with his finger.

'Nothing within ten miles?'

'Never has been.'

'Never?'

'No,' said Mark, seeming to realise for the first time how strange this was. 'Well, they like to keep themselves to themselves, if you know what I mean.'

The Doctor nodded. 'And you're sure there's no aerial photographs?'

'Positive. Just maps.'

Ace overheard this last comment. 'Significant?' she asked the Doctor.

'Possibly,' he replied, before turning back to Mark. 'Thank you very much for your help. Ace, come on.' He scurried towards the door. 'Places to go, people to see, things to do.'

'Terrific,' said Ace sullenly. 'No chance of anything to eat, I suppose?'

'As soon as we get to Hexen Bridge,' he said.

An old man, walking into the library, stopped and called after the Doctor and Ace. 'I heard that,' he said. 'You don't want to be going there, boy.'

'I beg your pardon?' said the Doctor. He wasn't easily surprised by anything, but he hadn't been called a boy for almost a thousand years.

'Hexen Bridge,' said the old man, his weather-beaten face cracking into a scowl. 'Terrible place. Terrible. They do things, you know.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Terrible things. And they're all sc.u.m, them Hexies. Be better if they dropped a bomb on the lot of them.'

The Doctor seemed distracted by something in the distance, like a dog when it hears a high-pitched whistle.

'The children I've met in Hexen Bridge seem very bright, academically speaking,' he said, dragging his attention back to the old man.

'Ah, that's what they want want you to think,' the man said. And with that, he turned into the library, leaving the Doctor and Ace staring after him. you to think,' the man said. And with that, he turned into the library, leaving the Doctor and Ace staring after him.

They had just enough change left to pay for a taxi into Hexen Bridge. The driver said he would drop them off outside the village. In fact, when they turned the first corner, expecting to see the cl.u.s.ter of cottages, they saw only the lane twisting into the distance.

It meant another walk in the broiling suns.h.i.+ne. If Ace had been surly when they left the town, she was positively fuming by the time they pa.s.sed the field where the TARDIS had landed.

'Two hundred yards, you said,' she moaned.

'Indeed,' said the Doctor. 'As the crow flies.'

'I'm not a crow.'

'No,' said the Doctor. At length they rounded a corner, and Hexen Bridge lay before them.

The village seemed less sinister than Ace had expected.

There was a certain picture-postcard quality about the place, little thatched cottages jockeying for position around the green. The people who sat at wooden tables outside the pub looked normal enough. Ace had expected extra limbs and Elephant Man deformities, at the very least.

'You sure this is the right place?' she queried.

The Doctor nodded. 'Relax, just for a moment. What do you feel?'

Ace paused. 'I feel hungry and sunburnt,' she exploded.

'Isn't there anywhere to eat in this hole?'

'As I promised,' said the Doctor.

He turned Ace around, and there, on the left-hand side of the lane, was a Chinese restaurant. A large sign proclaimed it to be A TASTE OF THE ORIENT. Its facade resembled that of a Buddhist temple and, in the context of the village, it was almost an eyesore. Ace rather liked it.

'Wicked!' she exclaimed. Two ma.s.sive carved lions the colour of green jade stood on either side of the door, and Ace couldn't resist patting one on the head. Its eyes were coloured gla.s.s, cut to resemble precious gems. 'Purpose?' she asked with a hint of mocking humour in her voice, parodying the Doctor's usual inquisitorial style. She had been in many Chinese restaurants, but had never seen anything like these giant statues before.

'Other than the purely decorative?' replied the Doctor with a wry grin. 'I'd say they were to ward off evil spirits.'

'Guess what?' said Ace. 'I just knew knew you were going to say that!' you were going to say that!'

They stepped into the restaurant. Fans in the ceiling and shutters over most the windows kept the interior cool and dark, a welcome relief after the sun. Golden dragon murals trailed along walls; brightly coloured paper lanterns hung from the ceiling. It was an absolutely unremarkable Chinese restaurant. What Ace couldn't work out was what it was doing in a place like Hexen Bridge, and how it managed to stay open.

She gestured towards the few diners seated at the tables.

'It's not exactly seething, is it?' she queried.

'It is is one thirty,' responded the Doctor. 'And, before you ask, you'll find the people of Hexen a strangely cosmopolitan bunch. They're quite happy for this place to stay here - on their terms.' one thirty,' responded the Doctor. 'And, before you ask, you'll find the people of Hexen a strangely cosmopolitan bunch. They're quite happy for this place to stay here - on their terms.'

'You come here often?'

'I've met Mr Chen and his family on several occasions.'

As if on cue, a middle-aged Chinese man emerged from the shadows, bowing politely. 'Good afternoon,' he said. 'How pleasant it is to meet one of the family of Dr Smiths again.'

'I've not broached the subject of regenerations with him,'

whispered the Doctor. 'h.e.l.lo, my friend,' he continued, more loudly. 'Sorry to turn up unannounced, but -'

Chen looked puzzled. 'You rang last Monday, Dr Smith,' he said.

'Of course I did,' bluffed the Doctor. He quickly withdrew a notepad from a pocket, and used a piece of pencil lead under his thumbnail to scribble a note. Ace saw that the page was headed 'To Do List' and, under items 25 ('Leave settee in Perivale') and 26 ('Return to Planet 14 to check up on provisional government'), the Doctor added a note to remind him to book the table.

'You are a little late,' said Chen diplomatically. 'But as you can see, we are not busy at the moment. Let me show you to your table.' And he walked across the room towards the window that afforded the best view of the village.

Ace sat down before Chen could hold her chair for her, and grabbed a menu, leaving the Doctor to do the small talk.

'How are things?' asked the Doctor vaguely.

'Some matters have worsened since your last visit, Doctor,'

said Chen stoically. 'My family have lived in this village for twenty years, but we shall always remain outsiders,' he continued, presumably for Ace's benefit.

The Doctor sighed. 'In a village where everyone else can trace their ancestry back to the seventeenth century, that's hardly surprising.'

Chen nodded. 'But... other factors are worrying.'

'You mean the racist graffiti?' asked the Doctor. Ace looked up from her menu.

'You saw it?' asked Chen.

'"c.h.i.n.ks Out", "Yellow Pigs", the usual mindless drivel. Yes, I saw it. I also saw how hard you'd scrubbed the walls in an attempt to remove the writing.'