Doctor Who_ Return Of The Living Dad Part 14

She shrugged, which was hard to do squashed like that.

Ms Randrianasolo scrunched herself down awkwardly to peer through the windscreen. 'Nearly there,' she said.

Jacqui craned her neck, looking out of the window past the Doctor's face. Suddenly the fence appeared from behind the greenery, and there was the main entrance into USAF Greenham Common.

There were women all over the place, pale faces peeking out of layers of winter clothing. Some were huddled around a big fire; others were was.h.i.+ng up at a card table. A huge banner announced that this was GREENHAM COMMON WOMEN'S PEACE CAMP.

'Are you sure you don't want to come?' said Jacqui. 'Men are okay in the daytime.'

'I need to get on to Newbury,' said the Doctor. 'I'd love to visit, though. I hope I get the chance.'

Jacqui, Roz and Ms Randrianasolo watched as Joel carefully pulled back out onto the wet road, gave them a wave and headed off. The morning rain was slowing, becoming a constant frozen drizzle.

A woman almost hidden inside a bright orange parka came up to them, smiling broadly. As she got closer, Jacqui saw it was Bridget. 'Hi Jacqui! Hi Ms Randrianasolo!' She gave Jacqui a hug, and reached for their companion's hand.

'Hi! I'm Bridget Evans.'

'Roz Forrester. Oh, s.h.i.+t s.h.i.+t!'

Roz grabbed the short, dark-haired woman and dragged her out of the way as a car skidded onto the gra.s.s. Jacqui stumbled backwards, b.u.mping into Ms Randrianasolo. They blinked at the car as it shot past and was gone.

Bridget looked up at Roz. 'Thanks. You okay?'

'The driving conditions aren't that that bad,' said the companion, peering after the car. bad,' said the companion, peering after the car.

Bridget shrugged, disentangling herself from Roz's fierce grip. 'You want a cup of tea?'

'How have you been, Bridget?' said Ms Randrianasolo, as they followed the short, dark-haired woman to the fire.

'Oh, I'm still high from the weekend before last,' said Bridget happily. 'The papers said we cut down about a thousand feet of fence, but I reckon it was closer to three or four miles.'

'That was good fun,' said Jacqui.

'It was brilliant! There were a couple of thousand women here.' Bridget looked up at Roz. 'Can you stay overnight?

There's a bit of s.p.a.ce in my bender, if you want.'

'We're looking for someone,' said Roz.

Bridget looked at Ms Randrianasolo. 'It's okay, Bridget,'

she said smoothly. 'There was a Swedish backpacker staying with us, and we think she got lost. We were wondering if she might have ended up at the camp.'

'Oh, right,' said the diminutive woman. 'Swedish? Okay, well, we can ask around.'

They sat around the fire while Bridget made tea in a billy.

Jacqui watched Roz watching the women, her cool eyes kind of sucking in all the details. One small group were making a shelter out of fallen tree limbs, bending them into a curved shape. A pair of women were joking as they dug up a patch of frozen earth, working on a garden. Military cars were driving in and out of the base, stopping at the gate. Beyond the fence she could see long, low buildings.

'So,' said Roz, 'exactly what do you do here?'

'Anything we can,' said Bridget, carefully pouring tea into a mug. 'Short of violence. We believe in non-violent direct action. Taking down the fence. It shouldn't be there anyway - this is common land. Blockading construction vehicles. Or getting into the base and painting the planes.'

'Painting the planes?' said Roz.

'Mmm-lunm.' Bridget gave Jacqui a smile and some tea.

'For a nuclear installation, the security is dead lax.

Sometimes we can't even find someone to arrest us.'

Ms Randrianasolo was rummaging in her handbag, as though she was looking for a tissue. Roz looked as though she was trying not to say anything because she didn't want to be rude.

'Okay,' Bridget said, 'right now there are, um, five camps, all around the base. And there's probably about a hundred women, plus visitors. So if n.o.body at Yellow Gate has seen your friend, maybe we could go for a walk around the perimeter.'

The Doctor became aware that Joel kept sneaking peeks at him in the rear-view mirror. He glared at the mirror, making the young man jump. But he didn't seem frightened, just excited.

'Do you mind if I smoke?' said Joel.

'Infinitely,' said the Doctor.

'No problem. Wow. This is so cool.'

'I wish Admiral Summerfield shared your enthusiasm,'

sighed the Doctor.

'Oh,' said Joel. 'So... what's it like?'

'What's what like?'

'You know.' When it became apparent that the Doctor didn't, Joel added, 'Travelling through s.p.a.ce and time with your companions and fighting monsters. Saving the world.'

'Hours of tedium followed by moments of sheer terror.'

'Neat!'

The Doctor smiled, despite himself. 'You'll be asking for my autograph next.'

'Oh, cool!' beamed Joel. 'Hey, there are so many questions I want to ask you.'

'Oh, yes?' The Doctor sat up, wondering if Isaac had given Joel a list.

'Well, mostly stuff I've been trying to work out about UNIT dating,' said Joel. 'For instance, the time the Zygons attacked Parliament with their fleet of cybernetically enhanced plesiosaurs - was that nineteen seventy-five or nineteen eighty?'

'I'm not sure if I can remember...' The Doctor sat back with a sigh. 'You tell me something.'

'Okay.'

'What's it like working with Admiral Summerfield?'

'It's great.' Joel grinned in the mirror. 'I love knowing knowing, you know? I look up at the stars, and I know that there are people out there. I know there's a future.'

The Doctor said nothing, watching the white sky out of the window.

It had been, thought Woodworth, a generally lousy morning.

She had woken up long before her alarm had gone off, after another night full of half-remembered dreams and sudden awakenings. She checked in the cupboards and under the bed. Nothing but dust b.a.l.l.s and the smell of wood polish.

She showered for twenty minutes, leaning her forehead on the steamy inside of the gla.s.s. Five hours' sleep after a night spent in a frozen field.

She wandered downstairs in search of coffee and the paper. The management was noisily throwing out a couple of dungareed wackos from the peace camp, who were just as noisily demanding to be served.

She sat in her room for a couple of hours, looking at maps and reading reports. She made a call home, and had to pull out her schedule for another look. Blast, she was going to miss lunch with her mystery man. And she hadn't even found out his last name yet.

Luckily, he was early. She found him in the bar at 11 a.m., looking morose. He was playing with a pocket calculator, which he put to one side when he spotted her.

'h.e.l.lo again,' he said, waving his hat about.

She plonked herself into the seat opposite him.

'Morning.'

He regarded the bags under her eyes. 'Is everything all right?' he said.

'Oh, yes,' she said. 'But I've got to run off at twelve - my day's all muddled up.' He nodded. 'The truth is,' she added, 'I have a bit of a recurring nightmare.'

'Ghosts,' he smiled.

'Yes,' she said. Little white figures running about, prodding her with their slender fingers. 'Ghosts.'

'I'm sorry I had to run off like that,' he said. She still hadn't quite picked his accent. 'Family trouble.'

'Nothing serious, I hope.'

'Oh, no.' He pretended to be studying the menu. She had just decided not to ask when he said, 'It's a longish story, but my... adopted daughter has just met her biological father for the first time.'

'Oh. Oh, I see. That must be very difficult.'

'I'm trying not to interfere, to give them a bit of s.p.a.ce.

half tempted just to leave them together here for a while, except... I'm still not sure why she even wanted to meet him.'

'Couldn't comment,' said Woodworth. 'I had an adopted friend who never bothered to track down his original parents.

He said they were just strangers and they might as well stay that way.'

'She's always wanted to meet him, ever since she was small.' The Doctor put down the menu. 'Not much in the way of vegetarian food,' he said. 'We're not getting on very well.'

'You and your daughter?'

'Her father and I.'

'Is he a bit of a villain, or do you just rub one another up the wrong way?'

He laughed. 'I think it's actually more professional rivalry than anything.'

'And what does your wife think about it all?'

He gave a strange smile. 'I'm not married. Currently,' he added hastily.

Woodworth glanced at her watch. She might not get a chance to do anything with that useful piece of information at this rate. 'Look, I've got to buzz off. But we must do this properly. Dinner?'

He folded his hands on the table. 'I'm all yours,' he said.

Isaac hung up the phone on the wall. 'Still nothing,' he said.

Benny stopped turning the handle on the coffee grinder.

Her father came over to the counter and picked up some of the brown grains, rolling them between his fingers. 'That's enough,' he said.

'I'll never play the violin again,' said Benny, shaking her aching hand to get the circulation going. Her father picked up the little bowl of coa.r.s.e coffee and moved to the cooker, where a saucepan of water was just coming to the boil.

He switched off the gas flame and measured six careful spoonfuls of the coffee into the boiling water. He was riveted by those tablespoons, smoothing the brown powder to make sure they were level. When was the last time she'd seen someone concentrate so utterly?