Prison Break
Owen followed Jack back into Cardiff and into Splott, finally pulling up outside a residential home. Owen knew it as a last home for some of the older vagrants from the streets of Cardiff. Owned by a charitable trust it had been rebuilt a couple of years ago. It was now all en suite but the architecture was reminiscent of the more twee supermarkets. It had lost its friendly character in the effort to meet government guidelines on room size and facilities. In order to reduce costs two homes had been amalgamated and it now had around eighty residents.
"What are we doing here Jack?"
"I've come to talk to an old friend"
He rang the bell, ten minutes later he rang it for the tenth time, finally a carer spoke to him over the intercom "Who is it ? what do you want at this time of night?"
"I need to speak to Davie Roberts, its urgent."
"Who wants to speak to him?"
"Tell him its Cap'n Jack Harkness, I need his help"
"Come back in the morning – he's already gone to bed"
Jack tried for another five minutes, but the carer wouldn't let him in.
"Jack, if we wait till morning it might be too late" Owen had no idea what the man could do for him, but he was willing to clutch at any straw to save little Robbie
Jack looked at him and nodded his head towards the back of the building, they walked around the outside, all the windows were either shut or too small to get through. Even Owen, though wiry couldn't manage. They came to a fire exit, but it could only be opened from the inside. Jack took a small cutter from his pocket, it had an alien edge to it that would cut through the wire embedded in the glass of the door. He made a hole and then with difficulty reached through and pulled the bar up and towards the door. Fortunately it was not alarmed. They went inside, pulling the door to behind them.
"OK Jack which room is he in?
"No idea"
"Great"
They walked quietly along the dimly lit corridors. The sound of snoring and sighing came from behind the doors, interrupted by the odd flush of a toilet. Strangely there was very little smell, Owen had expected an old lady smell of talc and incontinence, but really all he could smell was new carpet and paint. The names of the residents were on the door and they each had a Yale lock, some doors decorated to personalise them. They came to a pleasant kitchen diner with a sitting area and TV at one end. A carer was dozing in front of the TV, and they sneaked quietly behind him, to come face to face with a tiny old lady with a Zimmer frame walking along the corridor towards them.
"Jack is that you?"
"Zelma? Ssh! You'll wake the carer" Jack whispered. He lent forward to kiss Zelma on the cheek, but she twisted quickly and made sure it landed on her lips. "You don't get away from me that easily!" She said. "Up to no good I bet"
The carer started and looked round. Jack and Owen flattened themselves against the wall, Zelma opened the door next to her and gestured them in, closing the door behind them
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?"
Owen grimaced, but Jack grinned. "Zelma this is Owen Harker, Owen this is Zelma, former dancer and striptease artiste from the 1940s."
"Good times Jack, they won't come again," she sighed.
Jack told her they were looking for Davie Roberts. She frowned a bit, and then nodded. "Second floor, he keeps trying to escape so they put him up there in the hope he might stay put a bit. Not sure which room though."
Jack hugged her and kissed her soundly. She grinned and patted him on the cheek, looking after him wistfully, boy had he taught her some moves. Good Times, good times.
Owen looked a little startled at the look on her face, catching a glimpse of the sultry beauty she once had been.
They crept along and up the stairs. This floor was in darkness, a few emergency lights. The atmosphere was different, the fixtures and fittings a little askew as though they had been less well thought out. Some were distinctly odd, a newspaper stuck into a flower pot,
a chocolate bar on a seat. They had come through a a door locked with a keypad, but Jack's wrist strap had taken care of that. Davie Roberts' room was the third on the right.
Jack knocked softly and tried the handle. It was unlocked. Davie Roberts was sat on the bed, staring out of the window opposite.
"Hello Jack, I've been waiting for you" Startled Jack said "How on earth...."
Davie laughed. "Got Ya! Zelma phoned up on the internal line! Now what can I do for you?"
As he turned round, Owen saw he was wearing large tinted glasses. Glaucoma he diagnosed.
Jack explained what had happened, how they couldn't locate where the voice was actually coming from. Davie nodded as though he understood. "Right no time to be wasted if there's a child lost, I can find it" He said confidently. He stood up slowly and with a creak, as though in fact they did have all the time in the world. With bowed knees he hobbled to the wardrobe, took out a coat and fetched two sticks. He saw Owen looking at him and grinned. "Time was when I could outrun Jack here. Not that I always wanted to mind."
"How long is it now since John....." Jack asked
"Died do you mean? He didn't. Bastard ran off with a milkman." He looked at Owen. "Never trust a toyboy!, that's why I ended up here. Self neglect and depression. Now I'm better they don't believe it so they've put me up here in the locked wing."
"Have you got any equipment?" Owen asked, Davie Roberts looked at Jack
"You haven't told him have you?"
"Told me what?"
"You'll see"
They managed to sneak out of the home. Zelma was keeping the carer occupied in the dining area, telling him tales of her lurid past, which the carer obviously didn't believe, judging by the patronising replies she was giving. Zelma winked at them as they crept by.
