CHAPTER 4
RETURN TO ST. JUDE'S
It was quite dark when Ace got back to the cottage, the sky now a very deep blue. The coolness of the evening air was in sharp contrast to the stifling heat of that afternoon. She was feeling a little bit sick with hunger. She stood for a long moment at the garden gate, staring at the dull light shining through closed curtains. Was the Doctor still in there? Did she really want to continue to be involved? What else could she do?
With growing trepidation she walked down the path and rapped her knuckles on the door. The door opened and the Doctor stood silhouetted in the doorway. "Over our temper tantrum are we?" he quipped.
Ace bristled. "Well, can I come in or what?"
For a moment the Doctor just stood motionless. Then he said, "Oh, I suppose you'd better," in mock resignation. He reached out his right hand and dabbed his index finger on Ace's nose. This familiar, friendly, gesture melted away much of Ace's tension. "I've prepared some J6 2 L6 for you," he said in comic tone, turning.
"J6…bacon and eggs. Great professor! Thanks." She followed him, closing the door behind her. "Sorry Professor." The Doctor gave Ace a tired smile.
Ace now felt much better, safe and warm in bed. What a strange day it had been. She let her mind run through all that had happened. When she got to the later events, she remembered how astonished she was that the Doctor had timed the meal he had cooked for them almost to the exact moment she had arrived back at the cottage. He was full of little surprises like that.
Both Michael and his mother had gone to bed before Ace had returned. The Doctor now rested on the settee, downstairs. Another of the Doctor's pieces of wizardry had been how he had managed to turn things around and get Cindy Peters to agree to let them stay at the cottage. Smug grins and cryptic remarks were the only answers Ace got to her questions on both subjects. Mind you, she did have to agree with him that it would be wise for them to stay the night at the cottage for Michael's sake.
Ace was still anxious about the Doctor's withdrawn and worried demeanour. She had done her best to extort answers and opinions from him but getting blood out of a stone would have been easier. She would have to worry about that tomorrow. She could feel herself being overtaken by the numbness that precedes sleep. Before succumbing she noticed a faint murmur that sounded as if it came from the next room. Then she recognised the sound. It was young Michael Peters. He was crying.
Opening her eyes, Ace saw the sunlight pouring brightly through the flowery-patterned curtains of the bedroom. She looked round for a clock but could not find one. Then she noticed the chair in the corner. On it was a rag doll. The sight of it sent a chill down her spine. The doll was made up like a clown. Ace did not like clowns. She wished that she had noticed it before going to bed. She would have put it out of the room. She shuddered at the thought of it laying in the chair and staring at her all night while she slept.
Ace heard not a sound while she washed and dressed. She called out and went from room to room but the house was empty. The last place she tried was the kitchen. On the table was a chess board. All the chess pieces were laying on their sides, except for the black king. Under it was a small piece of paper. Ace moved the black king off the paper. She tried to take the piece of paper off the board but it was stuck to the board and the board came up with it, scattering chess pieces all over the table and onto the kitchen floor. The paper ripped and the board flopped back onto the table. Ace sighed heavily.
She held the torn-off piece of paper in her hand. On it was scribbled the most tiny writing. She peered very hard and was just able to make out the words 'Gone to church in the village square. Vital! Only way to help Cindy Peters. Meet us there. Bring…' The words ran out at the torn edge of the paper. She looked at the piece still stuck to the board but the words on it were obliterated.
Bring what? She didn't have any nitro-9 left, as the Doctor well knew, so it couldn't be that. Ace felt anxious and frustrated. She knew that the Doctor was depending on her to bring something - but what? It wasn't her fault if he chose such a stupid way to leave a message, she told herself. She strode out of the kitchen, down the short hallway and, opening the door, stepped into the bright morning sunshine.
It seemed only a very short time before she once again walked into the village square. Not a soul was about. She felt increasingly anxious. She walked across the small central green and over to the iron railings that bordered the church grounds. A large blue sign was erected by the gate she was moving towards. It had gold lettering on it. The sign read: 'St. Jude's Parish Church,' and in smaller lettering underneath: 'Parish priest - Reverend Mr Wainright.'
St. Judes Parish Church and the Reverend Mr Wainright? Ace paused. She knew those names, she felt sure. Yet, she could not remember where or why. Perhaps this was more of the Doctor's manipulations. Perhaps, yet again, he would drag some particularly embarrassing skeleton out of her personal cupboard and force her to face up to it.
Ace shuddered. She felt that she would only find the answer by going into the church. She had better do what the Doctor wanted. The old iron gate squawked as she pushed it open. Ace's feeling of nervousness grew as she picked her way along the path. The church door was set back into a shadow-filled alcove in the stone wall. Ace felt a sharp chill as she moved out of the sunlight. Her stomach churned. She breathed deeply. Trembling, her right hand came upon the iron handle on the huge, forbidding, oak door.
She swallowed hard, then turned the handle and pushed against the door. It creaked open. She peered into the gloom of the church's interior. At first she could see nothing apart from the myriad colours in the stained-glass window high up at the end of the long aisle. She stepped into the church and her eyes began to adjust. Closing the door, she faced towards the stained-glass window and began to pick her way slowly down the aisle. She became aware that there were rows of people sitting in the pews that she was now passing to either side of her. They were all facing forward and all in the church was eerily silent.
At the end of the aisle and over to the left side of it was a stone font. Ace's eyes were now better adjusted to the brownish, gloomy, light in the church. She saw the vicar, garbed in his black and white clerical costume standing by the font. She could see him well enough to make out his face. She recognised him - but how and from where? She stopped at the end of the aisle and continued to stare at the vicar.
Ace suddenly became aware that the vicar was not alone by the font. There was a young woman standing just to the other side of it. She was dressed in a dark blue wartime army uniform and had a small baby cradled in her arms. Ace felt sure she recognised the woman, too. Then she realised. It was her grandmother, Kathleen Dudman. Ace's mind fought to remember the circumstance of their first meeting. She had a vague idea that it was something to do with this church and the Reverend Wainwright and the baby.
The woman and the vicar both looked at Ace. "Ah! Ace, my dear, we have been waiting for you," began the vicar. Then, turning to the congregation he continued in a loud voice, "We are gathered here on this auspicious occasion, to baptise this, the newest of Fenric's children and Ace's mother!" Ace's blood ran cold. She tried to back away but her legs refused to move. She could only stare at the scene unfolding before her.
The woman, smiling with pride, handed the baby to the vicar. He momentarily held the child high above the font. The baby started to cry. He then slowly lowered it into the water. The sound of the baby crying was extinguished. Ace could hear the surface of the water bubbling.
"Stop it! Stop it!" Ace whimpered. The vicar laughed as he continued to hold the baby under the surface of the water. Kathleen Dudman looked on, grinning.
"I name this servant of Fenric – Audrey!" shouted the vicar, "May Ace now also die, having at last got what she really wanted!"
"Nooooo!" screamed Ace. She tried to run but all she could manage to do was to turn to face the open door at the entrance to the church. She could see the brilliant, comforting, sunshine outside. It seemed a very long way away. She must try to run. Must try to get out into the sunlight.
"Bring the human female here!" bellowed a voice which was not the vicar's. Ace recognised the harsh robotic twang. Paralysed with terror, Ace watched two figures rise from the pews. As they approached she could see they were dressed as clowns. They moved to either side of Ace and took hold of an arm each. They slowly forced the whimpering Ace round to face the front the font once more. This time there was no vicar but in his place was the huge and silver-suited form of a CYBERMAN! "Bring her here!" it bellowed again.
"N-no! No! Please, no!" pleaded Ace as she squirmed between the grips of the two clowns, while they forced her towards the silver-suited apparition. The clowns bought her in front of the font, while the Cyberman stood towering behind it.
Kathleen Dudman stood next to the Cyberman. Ace saw that her grandmother was staring at her with a sardonic sneer on her face. "How could you?" Ace gasped. The sneer intensified. "You slag!" choked Ace.
The Cyberman's metallic voice boomed out again, "Turn the human female around!" The clowns turned Ace to face the congregation. She dimly recognised some of the faces in front of her. She recognised one in particular. It was the Doctor!
Then Ace felt a terrible pain as the crushing grip of the Cyberman's massive hands closed over the sides of her head. Powerless to struggle against it, Ace was bent backwards over the stone rim of the font. The pain in her neck and her back was excruciating. Ace felt her feet leave the floor. The she felt the back of her head touch the surface of the water. The Cyberman continued to push her head down. A moment later the water surface closed over her face. She gagged and choked as she tried in vain to hold her breath. Then she tried to drink the water, rather than breathing it. Momentarily opening her eyes, she could see the upside-down impassive face of the Cyberman staring down at her from the other side of the rippling surface of the water.
The pain racking Ace's body became unbearable and she screamed out in agony. She could hear the bubbling and the distortion of her scream in the water. She could resist no longer and she breathed in. She could feel her lungs filling with the cold water…
Ace's arms flayed as she fought off the small hands that were shaking her.
"Ace! Wake up, Ace! Wake up!" It was Michael Peters.
"N-no - aaargh!" Ace spluttered as she gradually became aware that it was still night, the yellowish bedroom light was now on, and she was still in bed. At first the terrible panic refused to leave her and she still felt as if she was drowning. The boy continued to shake her and plead with her to fully wake up. At last Ace sat upright. She fought to control her breathing and put her hands to her face.
Michael leaned over and put an arm around Ace's shoulder. He was almost as distraught as she was. "Oh! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he said, "But it's Mum. It's Mum! Oh!"
After a long moment, Ace was able to regain most of her composure. She stared at the boy. Michael, now shivering with fear and worry, stared back.
"What is it? What's happened?" Ace's voice rasped and she coughed to clear her throat.
"It's Mum. I heard her screaming but when I ran into her room she was gone."
"Alright Michael, give me a moment to get dressed and we'll look for her. Call the Professor, er, Doctor."
"I did shout for him but there was no answer," said the boy as he left the room.
Ace felt nauseous and dizzy as she quickly got out of the bed and got dressed. She opened the door. Michael was just outside. "The Professor was going to kip on the sofa," Ace said, then bellowing "Professor! Mrs Peters!"
Silence was the only reply. The boy looked up at her.
"Come on," said Ace softly, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. They started to walk down the darkened staircase. Then a scraping noise sounded from downstairs. They stopped and looked at one another.
"Come on," whispered Ace. They continued, slowly, to pick their way down the stairs. They paused again as a shadowy form flitted ghost-like out of the kitchen, through the darkness along the hallway, and into the living room.
A moment later Ace and Michael reached the open doorway of the living room. Ace fumbled for the light-switch. 'Click!' Light flooded the room and Ace caught her breath and she felt the boy grab her arm. The Doctor appeared to be soundly asleep, laying on the settee. Cindy Peters was standing over him, brandishing a large carving knife in her raised hand!
"Professor!" shrieked Ace as she threw off Michael's grip on her arm and lunged across the room, making a grab for the knife handle. The two women staggered and fell to the floor as Ace felt a searing pain in her hand. Ace realised that her grip on the knife handle had failed and her hand had gripped the blade as it slid through. As she lay on the floor she glanced at the blood welling out of the deep slice in her palm.
Mrs Peters struggled up on to her hands and knees and she raised the blade above Ace. Ace's arms flayed wildly as she fought to keep the woman from plunging the blade into her but she seemed to have demonic strength and she slowly gained the upper hand. Ace shrieked as she felt the knife pierce her left shoulder. Then it plunged into her chest. Then the knife sliced into her neck. Ace's shrieks of pain turned into a gurgling moan as she felt her blood bubbling from the wound. Ace felt her strength waning. She saw Cindy Peters lever herself up and move to the boy who now shaking the still inert form of the Doctor and shouting for him to wake up.
As black clouds began to roll down Ace could see Cindy Peters lunge at the boy, bringing the knife down into his back. "Nooooo! Mum! Noooooo!" he screamed. He slithered to the floor, crying and wailing.
Just before the final blackness came Ace saw the woman raise the reddened blade again and plunge it into the reclining body of the Doctor.
Ace sat up, her heart pounding rapidly. She and the bedclothes were drenched in perspiration. She trembled with shock and fought off waves of feeling hot then cold and feeling sick. It took her a long moment before she could even start to order her thoughts rationally again. Her first rational thought was, Am I really awake this time, or is this another layer of my nightmare?
She became aware that the grey light of dawn was shining dimly through the windows. Looking round her she could see in the very dull light that the room looked the same as when she had got undressed and gone to bed. She felt a little more sure that her ordeal was over and that she really was awake this time.
She heard the floorboards creak outside the bedroom door. She felt her nerves tightening again. Then there were three sharp knocks on the door that made her flinch. "Ace! Ace!" It was the Doctor, his voice rather hushed, "Can I come in?"
"Alright Doctor." Ace's voice was strained and unsteady. She pulled the bedclothes up in front of her. She struggled to control her nerves but even the rattling of the door as the Doctor opened it sent sharp jolts of tension through her. The door opened and there was a click as the bedroom light came on. The Doctor entered and closed the door. He looked sympathetically at her as he moved over to the bed and sat, partly sideways-on, at the end of it.
His eyebrows arched upwards in a questioning expression that was characteristic of him. "How are you feeling?"
Ace's fear ebbed away somewhat. "Oh, just bloody marvellous!" His expression changed to one of reproach. She knew he hated bad language, let alone getting a sarcastic reply to his friendly question.
"Sorry Professor!"
He smiled again. "It's OK Ace. I know you have been having some bad dreams." Her eyes widened.
"How? How do you know?" Ace's rollercoastering nerves tensioned again.
"Because I was there also. I was there in the church with you."
"What! Go away!" said Ace cringing.
"No, no, Ace! Calm down! It's alright, now. You are perfectly safe now. It was telepathy. The reason I was with you in your dream was because I was fighting off the evil that was causing it. It was trying to get a hold over you; take you over. That's how it gets a foothold in its victims minds. In their dreams!"
"Go away!" repeated Ace more forcibly. A look of impatience joined the expression of concern on the Doctor's face.
"Ace, will you listen to me!" he implored, "There is a terrible evil force at work here. I think that it might be out in space, approaching Earth, but I am not sure. At the moment its influence is fairly weak but," he added grimly, "it is going to get stronger."
"Some sort of alien creature? Out in space? Causing my dream?" said Ace.
"Yes," replied the Doctor as he forcibly nodded his head, "And causing all that has happened here."
"But…?"
"It operates by manipulating sentient beings," interrupted the Doctor, having anticipated Ace's next question. "While its influence is still weak it can only get a foothold in the minds of its victims when their brains are at their most vulnerable."
"And that's when they are asleep?" chipped in Ace.
"And dreaming," added the Doctor. He gathered himself for an explanation. "If I was to speak to you while you were asleep, some elements of whatever I said would be incorporated into your dream. For instance, it might be that in your dream you were aboard a ship that was sailing across an ocean. If I then started quietly talking in your ear, not loud enough to wake you but loud enough for you to hear me, about eating rice pudding then in your dream something would happen connected with eating rice pudding. Perhaps the captain of the ship would invite you to join him at his table for a nice bowl of rice pudding, or maybe a cargo ship would pull alongside in order to deliver fresh supplies of rice pudding for you and all the other hungry passengers."
"Oh, yeah!" mused Ace as a vague memory returned to her, "I've heard of that sort of thing." She looked more relaxed now. She fell silent for a moment. Then her face clouded. "But you knowing about my dream - and even being in it…?"
"I told you, Ace, I was fighting off the evil force that was trying to infiltrate you. Trying to stop it from taking you over and using you as one of its pawns."
"But how?"
"Telepathy. I was able to mentally join in and was able to divert you from the dream you had both created…"
"Both!" blurted Ace.
The Doctor's face betrayed the irritation that he felt at her interruption. "Yes, Ace, both of you. It was your fears and guilty feelings that provided the raw material. The…influence was able to use that material and get you to concoct the nightmare. That was its first captured territory - the world of your dreams."
A look of horror spread across Ace's face. "The scum…" she didn't know how to finish her sentence.
"The villagers, Michael's mother, you, me - it wants to use us all." began the Doctor sombrely, "I'm doing my best to shield you and Michael and his mother. I can't help the villagers at the moment. Not enough of me to go round." The Doctor sighed heavily.
There was another long pause as the Doctor seemed to abstractedly stare off into the far distance. Ace was also turning all that the Doctor had said over in her mind. She was first to break the silence. "Telepathy? I didn't know you could do that sort of thing, Professor."
"Hmm? Oh, yes. In this regen…, er, at this time in my life, I have regained most of the mental skills I had as a younger man when I was in my prime. I never lost them completely, but it has taken until now for me to get back most of my abilities." The Doctor could see that Ace wanted to pursue this further. "It's complicated," he smiled, "don't worry about that now."
"And you can read my mind, Professor?" Ace said with obvious discomfort.
"Not normally. At least not to any great extent. I have to concentrate very hard to get into your thoughts the way I did. Don't worry, all your dark secrets are quite safe," he grinned. Ace did not return the Doctor's smile. She still looked uncomfortable.
The Doctor continued, "On this occasion I had to get into your mind in order to protect you. I was able to make the dream you were having seem like a dream by having you apparently wake up from it, er, while you were still actually dreaming. It wouldn't have been enough merely to come and wake you up, as the thing already had completed the first stage of its enslavement. I had to try to wrest you from its grip while you were still in the dream state. Your dream was the battleground, if you like. Well, then it fought back and turned that dream into a nightmare also…but I think I won in the end, even though your dream ended horribly." Ace stared, speechless.
"Anyway," chirped the Doctor as, with renewed vigour, he suddenly jumped to his feet, "You rest for a while longer. I'll see you downstairs when you are ready." His baggy face broke into a smile.
"Professor, what is the thing out there? Have you met it before?"
The Doctor's smile withered. "I'll see you downstairs," he said as he left the room.
"Professor…?" began Ace, shovelling in another mouthful of cornflakes. A doleful pair of eyes looked back at her across the kitchen table as she spluttered slightly.
"Don't squeak with your mouth full," said the Doctor, dryly. Ace responded by briefly pulling a comical face.
"What happens next time I fall asleep?" she continued.
"I will have to protect you again, if I can't work out a way of dealing with this before then."
"Can you?" said Ace.
"Can I what?"
"Deal with whatever it is?"
The Doctor sighed heavily. "I hope so, Ace, I hope so."
"But you're not sure?" The depression on the Doctor's face seemed to deepen. He looked at Ace and she felt a chill on seeing the pain in his eyes.
She squirmed slightly and looked down at her bowl of cornflakes. "What has happened here - has this anything to do with you?" she said.
The Doctor sighed again. "I don't know. It might have." Ace looked up at the Doctor as he continued, "Oh, Ace! Sometimes I weary of it all. Sometimes I would just like to go home and…but I can't! I can't. I have to face up to the consequences of my past and future actions."
"Your past and future actions, Professor?" The Doctor's gaze flickered slightly.
"Other people's lives are controlled by the rules of destiny. Their existences are mapped out. Their experiences are like the notes recorded in the groove on a gramophone record. One event precedes the next. Nothing they can do will change that. What will be, will be. Que sera sera."
"And when we visit them we are like the stylus that drops into the groove and plays the record," interjected Ace in an attempt to urge the Doctor to move beyond this childishly simple piece of reasoning.
"Yes," he sighed, "My life of jumping about from groove to groove complicates matters; generates consequences of its own. When I am in a given time and place I become part of the events there. I have a hand in shaping the tune in that section, if you like. I put some notes of my own into the groove. Sometimes it is a help. Sometimes it doesn't matter. Occasionally it can mess up the whole record." The Doctor pushed away his half-eaten bowl of cornflakes. "I then have to adjust the notes in other parts of the record in order to make the tune play correctly once more. I shouldn't of course. I shouldn't have messed up the tune in the first place." The Doctor fell silent.
"But Professor," said Ace gently, "You help people. It's you who bring down the scumbags that try to take over everything. Terrible, evil, things would happen if you weren't around to stop them."
The Doctor drew breath. "Yes, but don't you see? Some bad things happen BECAUSE of me. In my time I've been responsible for more deaths than I care to think of." Ace was shocked to see the Doctor's eyes moisten. He continued, "Each time I try to do what I think is right but who am I to say what is right and what is wrong? Who am I to meddle?" The Doctor's voice had taken on a bitter tone, "When I first set out on my travels I intended only to be an observer. I just wanted to see and experience the Universe, its wonders and the myriad life-forms that populate it."
Suddenly the Doctor looked shocked at his own words and he sat more upright and the expression on his face became guarded. Ace could see that he had been revealing more about himself than he wanted to and had now pulled back from revealing any more. The Doctor rose from the table.
"Professor…?" began Ace as footsteps sounded from the stairs in the hallway.
"Not now! Michael is coming down. Finish your breakfast. We have work to do."
Michael carried the breakfast tray out of the kitchen and the Doctor closed the door behind the boy. He again sat down at the now cleared kitchen table opposite Ace. They heard Michael's footsteps and the tray rattling as Michael carried it upstairs to his mother's room.
The Doctor said "I think we had better go and see the local parson."
"What!" Ace's shuddered with a sudden chill.
"Oh yes, of course, your nightmare. Don't worry. It won't be anything like that."
"But why do we need to see the vicar? What can he do?"
The Doctor drew breath. "I can't help the villagers on my own. If I can get them to join together and to fight this evil for themselves then maybe we'll stand a better chance."
"But why…Oh, I see…the vicar can go round and talk to the rest of the villagers."
"Yes. He knows them and they know him. Also he can talk to many of them in one go at the service this morning…"
"Oh! Of course! It's Sunday today!" interrupted Ace.
The Doctor nodded and continued, "And maybe he can contact a few more in one go if they also do an evening service here."
"Neat, Professor!"
"If I can manage to convince him, that is," added the Doctor wistfully.
They heard Michael's footsteps padding rapidly down the stairs. The kitchen door rattled open again and Michael came in, grinning with relief. "Mum's awake. She says she has got a bad headache but apart from that she's fine. I told her what you did and that you stayed to look after us last night. She says she wants to thank you." The happy release of emotions in the boy was infectious and Ace found herself grinning broadly.
"Good," nodded the Doctor. "I will go up and have a word with her." He rose to his feet.
As she strode alongside the Doctor in the warm morning sunshine Ace now felt more optimistic than she had been first thing that morning. They had left Michael and his recovering mother at the cottage both in a much happier frame of mind. Also, the Doctor seemed to have a course of action planned and they were making a start about doing something to put things right. However, Ace was irritated to find that the Doctor's persona had again become uncharacteristically rather steely and inaccessible. They walked in virtual silence and every time she tried to ask him about the nature of the evil influence and whatever generated it he deflected her with a curt "Not now, Ace!"
At last they reached the village green and strode across it towards the church. The Doctor kept up a stiff pace, virtually a march, swinging his umbrella like a walking stick. Ace comforted herself by noting that things in the square looked a little different to how they did in her nightmare. Though the church was in roughly the same place, the real church seemed rather smaller and more picturesque. On reaching the main gate the Doctor did not go through it but, instead, turned sharply and strode along the pavement.
"Oi, Professor! I thought we were going to see the vicar?"
"It's only just after nine. He'll probably still be in the vicarage, putting the finishing touches to his sermon," retorted the Doctor crisply.
"Oh!"
The Doctor turned sharply again, opening the gate to the garden of the large, rambling, house next to the church. A moment later he was rattling the brass door knocker, shaped like a lions head, on the front door of the house. Nobody answered. The Doctor's face darkened with impatience.
"Perhaps...?" began Ace. She was interrupted by a deep exhale from the Doctor and he again grabbed at the door-knocker, this time giving it several very hard raps.
They heard a voice call out from within. "Hang on a minute! Just coming!" The irritation that was building up on the Doctor's face suddenly cleared and he glanced at Ace, giving her a smile. At length the door opened. A cheery and rather portly, oldish, man stood in the doorway. Ace expected him to be wearing a 'dog-collared' cassock. Instead, the man wore grubby green overalls. One of the two small lenses in his wire-framed spectacles was partly smeared with grease. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting but I was given a pair of Great Western absolute-block instruments yesterday, and I just couldn't wait to give them a going over and get them working again!" Ace stared blankly. She hadn't the vaguest idea what he was talking about.
"Ah! I take it you are a railway enthusiast?" remarked the Doctor.
"Oh, indeed, yes! Are you?" the vicar's eyes bulged a little as he peered into the Doctor's face.
"Oh yes!" drawled the Doctor, "The Great Western Railway was one of the best, don't you think? A railway built by gentlemen for gentlemen." The vicar didn't notice the smirk that Ace gave the Doctor.
"Indeed! Indeed! That is what Brunel was reputed to have said, of course," chirruped the clergyman, "Do come in, won't you?" he added, beaming with delight as he stepped aside and gestured for his visitors to enter. Ace and the Doctor stepped inside the hallway and the vicar closed the door behind them. "Er, Oh! We haven't been introduced, have we?"
The Doctor, raising his Panama hat, said "I am the Doctor and this is Ace."
"Reverend Edward Carmichael. Pleased to meet you both!" replied the vicar enthusiastically while shaking hands with the Doctor and Ace, "I've just got a few minutes before I have to get ready for the service. Would you like to come up and see my layout?"
"Oh, yes indeed! Very much. Wouldn't we Ace?"
"Yeah! Great!" said Ace trying to give the impression of enthusiasm.
"Splendid! Do come on up!" The vicar's demeanour became gleeful, almost wickedly impish, as he turned and headed for the staircase. He wheezed loudly as he thundered up the stairs, with Ace and the Doctor in pursuit. Ace noticed the railway station signs screwed to the several wooden doors on the landing. "It's in here!" announced the vicar opening a door with a sign on it that read 'Passengers alight other side.'
The Reverend Carmichael grinned broadly as he led his two visitors into a room which was dominated by a large model railway. Items of railway memorabilia cluttered the walls and the shelves in the room. "It's a 'Hornby Dublo' three rail," he said proudly.
"Yes, I can see!" enthused the Doctor as they moved to stand in front of the layout. Miniature buildings and scenery, with tiny mannequins variously standing on miniature station platforms and in modelled gardens, all were lovingly and meticulously placed. Several model locomotives were on the railway tracks coupled to scale-sized passenger and goods trains, while the front ends of other engines poked out from model engine sheds.
"Very impressive!" remarked the Doctor.
"Would you like to have a go?" said the vicar brimming with child-like glee.
"I'd love to," replied the Doctor, "You know I always did want to drive a steam locomotive, especially when I was a boy."
"Did they have trains when you were a boy?" Ace playfully goaded. The Doctor pulled an expression of mock outrage and the Reverend Carmichael chuckled.
Several minutes later the trio had moved over to a long thin bench against the wall on one side of the room. Its surface was cluttered with tools, oily rags, and two wooden box-like instruments, each with glass fronts, with small bells on wooden plinths positioned next to them. Wires trailed about, connecting the bells and the glass-fronted instruments. The Doctor seemed genuinely interested. However, Ace was beginning to look bored and a little anxious. She wondered when the Doctor was going to broach the subject of why they had come to see the vicar and just what it was he was going to say to him.
"These double-line absolute block instruments are the real McCoy, taken from actual Great Western signal boxes," began the vicar enthusiastically. Oh Great!, thought Ace, churlishly.
The vicar continued, "Now let's say we were going to offer a stopping train forward onto the track section between one signal box and the next, we should call the signalman's attention with a single beat on his bell." The vicar pressed a key on one instrument and 'Ding!' went the bell attached to the other. "He would answer with a single beat." The vicar pressed a key on the second instrument and 'Ding!' went the bell attached to the first one.
"Then we should describe the train we are offering. Let us say it is a stopping passenger. We should do that by…" 'Ding! Ding! Ding!…Ding!'. "He would then indicate to us on his instrument that the line between our signal boxes is clear like so…" The vicar pressed a key at the foot of the second cabinet and there was a 'Clunk' as small flag-like indicators changed in both of them. Ace was now looking very bored.
"Then, when the train had left our station, we would signal to him that the train is on the section and on its way to him, which we do by two beats…" 'Ding! Ding!' "Now, what happens next is a bit different on the Great Western…" Ace yawned very loudly, drawing a disapproving look from the Doctor.
"I must apologise for my young friend," began the Doctor, "She wasn't well last night and didn't get much sleep."
"Oh! I am so sorry to hear that," began Reverend Carmichael with concern in his voice, "Nothing too serious I hope?"
"No, not really," said Ace smiling back. The vicar tut-tutted.
"Actually, do you think I could use your little girl's room, please?" she asked.
"Little girl's…? Oh, yes, of course!" laughed the vicar, "Down the stairs, straight through to the kitchen, then straight ahead of you, er, the door facing."
"Thanks," replied Ace.
As she moved out of the room the vicar glanced at the large railway station platform clock mounted on the wall above the bench. "Oh, goodness me! I don't want to be rude but I mustn't be too long before I get cleaned up and changed, ready for the morning service."
"Ah yes, indeed, Reverend. It was about your sermon this morning that I wanted to see you," intoned the Doctor as he held the question mark shaped handle of his umbrella up to his chin. The Doctor's dark eyes glittered intensely as he stared into those of the vicar…
Ace smiled as she walked through the kitchen towards another door with an old railway sign on it. The sign read 'Whistle'. Opening the door she saw a smaller metal sign fastened to the cistern down-pipe, sited just above the wooden lavatory seat. It was yet another piece of railway memorabilia. Ace laughed out loud. The sign read 'Gross weight not to exceed 32½ tons.'
Ace and the Doctor sat at the back of the church, to the left of the aisle. The Doctor's Panama hat was rolled up and stuffed into his right-hand jacket pocket. A rather wheezy and unsteady version of 'Jesu Joy Of Man's Desiring', washed quietly over the church's interior as the villagers began filing in.
Ace turned to the Doctor and whispered, "I don't like it. Do we have to sit and watch, Professor? You said you had convinced the Rev to warn the villagers. Couldn't…"
The Doctor raised a silencing hand. "I'm not sure what he is going to say. I'm even less sure how the villagers will react to it. I think it best we observe." Ace's expression betrayed the fact that this was not the answer she wanted. She glanced back at the entrance to see a plump woman standing in the doorway.
The woman, attired in a blue dress with a matching wide-brimmed hat covered in white flowers scanned around clearly looking for someone. The man in the smart but obviously elderly black suit next to her looked increasingly irritated. "Well come on woman, don't just stand there!" rasped Fred to his wife.
"Don't you woman me, Fred Huggett!" came the hissed reply, "I'm looking for Ena."
"Huh! I think she's got a nerve even setting foot inside a church," retorted Fred as he and Mary slowly moved in, "That nasty-minded old rat bag…"
"Fred!" hissed Mary, "And in God's house, too!" Failing to find her friend, Mary led them both to a pew about half way along on the right side of the aisle. They say down and Fred fidgeted, obviously a little uncomfortable in his suit and tie.
Mary looked increasingly indignant. "I don't know what you've got against her. She did important war work you know," she hissed.
"Humph! Yes, I know. She was a test pilot at a broom factory!" retorted Fred dryly. Mary's look of indignation increased further.
"Oh look!" whispered Ace to the Doctor, as a familiar figure passed them along the aisle, "That's the woman who was in the café. She seems alright now." Ace and the Doctor watched as the woman moved to sit with Mary and Fred. Mary shooed her husband a little further along the pew to make room for her friend to sit down between them. Immediately the heads of the two women leaned towards each other as they became engrossed in conversation.
"Ah! At last!" hissed Ace as the Reverend Carmichael entered through the vestry door, a little left of the alter. The Doctor pursed his lips.
"…and trust in the good Lord's care but remember, the old saying is very true; the Lord does help those who make an effort to help themselves. Of course, he also expects us always to help one another." The vicar's voice rang authoritatively round the church. "My friends, just such an instance is upon us now."
The Doctor leaned forward and visibly tensed. Here it comes, thought Ace.
"There is at this time a pervading evil influence." The congregation began to stir slightly at the vicar's words. Ace heard the Doctor breathing heavily. She glanced at him and saw him nervously looking round at the people in the packed church.
"I can't quite tell you what the nature of this evil is…it , em, is in the air you could say…but that it exists, well, you must take my word for it," continued the vicar, "but together we can fight it." The vicar opened his mouth to speak again but paused, startled by several people in the church beginning to rise to their feet. The Doctor's expression of nervousness was beginning to turn into one of alarm.
"My friends," continued the vicar, "let us help one another, er, oh!..." Many more people were rising to their feet. They started to move along the pews into the aisle and down the aisle towards the vicar.
"Kill him!" one of the crowd shouted. Then "Kill him!" several others chorused, as the throng continued to advance towards the vicar, who was rooted to the spot with shock and fear.
"Kill him!" the church now echoed with myriad voices shouting in unison.
"Kill him!"
