DALEK WEEK : Summer Afternoons

Alke had always associated summer afternoons with relaxation. In the morning, he was put through his paces, in politics, fencing, match or languages, by his many tutors, from five in the morning till one o clock in the afternoon when lunch was served. But the summer afternoons were spent with his parents, lazing in the ample amounts of sunlight in their vast properties.

Some days they played tennis, some days they chased each other all over the grass, some days they sunbathed and some days they snoozed. It had all been part of the summer routine and Alek had loved every second of it.

He hadn't experienced proper summer afternoons on the Leviathan, meeting them only in the middle of August, in the middle of the Alps, where the weather was chilly. Needless to say the afternoons of late July and August traveling to Switzerland hadn't been relaxing in the slightest, except perhaps in the piloting of a walker, where he felt the most free.

Now, when he should have been relaxing, in the first summer afternoon of 1915, he was instead painting a living room at Deryn's whims.

The living room of their rental townhouse had been plain white, but they'd noticed the paint was peeling when they'd moved in that spring, but they'd been so busy cataloguing things at the Royal Society and diplomating in other countries, they hadn't had the time to get the paint job done.

Now Deryn had complained that repainting the whole thing white was 'boring', and that they should do a mural in the lounge. Alek had pointed out that it was slightly unwise, considering they were in a rental townhouse, but Deryn had stormed off to her room and had come out an hour later with a sketchy design of what she wanted to paint the lounge like. She'd then showed this design to the landlady, who'd been immensely pleased with it and given them permission to paint it.

Which was why Alek was now balancing precariously on the smallest and wobbliest stepladder he'd ever seen to paint some stupid red apple tree over Deryn, who was attempting to paint some realistic grass beneath him.

"Alek?" she asked after a moment, "Why is it that Dr. Barlow gave us a holiday now?" she asked.

"I don't know. She said something about going to go spend some time with her husband up in the North of the country." said Alek attempting to balance, talk and paint at the same time.

"Yes, but it doesn't make sense!" she said, gesturing wildly, spattering green paint all over herself and Alek. Alek sighed, his black cannions were most definitely ruined, unless paint splattered was the new fashion. Luckily, Deryn had warned him about how messy it was going to be and he'd worn an old, tatty pair from when he'd traipsed all over Austria, but with his lack of money, the loss of any clothes was disastrous.

"God's wounds, Deryn! Could you be any more careless?" said Alek, as he got back to painting.

"Sorry, Alek," she said, but she sounded unapologetic. "It just doesn't make sense. She didn't go to go see her husband when we landed from the Leviathan, so why would she go now? I think it's a cover-up for something else."

Alek nodded vaguely, concentrating more on making the apple he was currently painting look as realistic as Deryn's grass. He'd forgotten just how brilliant she was at drawing.

Just then, from the living room, Bovril wandered in through the door. "Paint Stains!" it shrieked at the top of its voice, mimicking the anger of their landlady when the artist next door had covered the carpet in blue paint. "Paints stains on my carpet!"

Unfortunately, this reminder had the unfortunate effect of causing that accident. Deryn jerked sharply at the sudden sound and managed to knock into Alek, whose grip on the step-ladder was futile at best. Alek fell sideways and the red pot of paint fell with him, splattering the floor, his clothes and Deryn in bright red paint.

Alek sputtered, wiping red paint from his face and white shirt. They were most definitely ruined, as was the carpet. Deryn looked equally annoyed. The paint had covered her in red from head to toe. As it congealed at her corners and dropped off, it looked eerily like blood. Alek shuddered and slowly got up, looking at the scene of destruction ahead of him. They would never get the red out of the cream carpet.

Alek had been right in this being a disastrous venture, but he wished he hadn't been proved right in such an apocalyptic way.

"Bovril!" Alek snapped at the loris. It drooped, looking inconsolable and Alek instantly felt sorry. But looking at his jacket again, he sighed and repeated one of Volger's favourite phrases. "Even a stopped clock is right twice a day."

Deryn sighed and screwed up her eyes. "I suppose there isn't a chance in the world that the carpet is unstained."

Alek shook his head, then realized how futile that was, not to mention, it was spreading green and red paint droplets everywhere. "Nope. It's soaked. And your masterpiece is ruined."

Deryn slumped back to the ground, her eyes now open on the scene of carnage. "My painting we can fix. Another coat of paint and it'll be as good as new. This carpet, on the other hand…."

Alek put his arm around her, despite the fact it got the bottom of his jacket soaked. "Come on Deryn, lets go take a shower, there's nothing we can do for this carpet."

(X)

After some cold water, Alek came back to the living room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, still wearing his colour-spotted clothes. As he entered the room, he stopped, dead still.

The carpet's colour had vanished. All of it was cream. And the walls were exactly as they had been before the painting job. Alek shuddered and pinched himself. How could this have happened? He wasn't dreaming now, so maybe he had been dreaming before.

He had to ask Deryn. He darted back to her bedroom and barged in without knocking. She was still getting dressed, buttoning her shirt, walking around in bloomers.

"Deryn!" he yelled and she coloured immediately and wrapped her towel round her quickly.

"What is it, Alek!" she said, her usually pale face going a bright shade of red, the same as the paint on his shirt.

"We spilled paint all over the living room, didn't we? The carpet was gone for good, right?"

Deryn nodded. "Yes, you dummkopf, that's why your clothes are covered in paint."

Alek waved his hands wildly in the air. "Just…just…. COME WITH ME!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hand, leaving her towel behind in her room. He took her to the living room and she gasped.

"Alek? How- Did you do this?" she said.

Alek should have taken the credit. Really he should have. Unfortunately, he was sincerely awful at lying and shook his head. "No. I didn't. I just walked in and it was like this."

Deryn stared and crouched on the floor where she'd been painting. She ran her hand through the carpet and frowned, as if confused.

"What's wrong Deryn?" asked Alek, crouching next to her.

"I thought maybe someone had come in and put cream paint all over the carpet, but there's no paint like traces at all. It's just wet. Like it's just been soaked in water. Thing is, water doesn't get rid of paint."

Alek shuddered. "Both of those options leave the rather unsavoury idea that someone else apart from our landlord can sneak into here at any time without us noticing. What if they've come in before? What might they have seen?"

Deryn, who had been gradually turning back to her usual Glaswegian skin colour, had now turned bright red again. "I'm really hoping for an alternate explanation. Because I'm not too happy with that rationalization."

Alek shook his head, there had been far too many private moments between them in this flat. "Maybe this is their first time entering the house?" he said, venturing that perhaps this mysterious benefactor hadn't seen Deryn and Alek in some more intimate positions.

Deryn scowled. "It's a nice explanation, but unlikely."

Alek sighed. "I don't know. I just don't know."

"I'm hungry," said Deryn, "Let me grab some potatoes."

Alek shook his head fondly and made way for her to enter the kitchen. A sound of loud, raucous laughter came from the kitchen. Alek walked in leisurely.

"What is it, Deryn?" he asked and she continued to laugh, tears leaking out from her eyes in mirth, as she pointed towards the kitchen table in the corner. A paint-covered Bovril was fast asleep on a teatowel. It seemed that it had somehow, miraculously cleaned the whole carpet and wall using the paint removers that lay empty next to the bin.

Bovril seemed to sleepily stir at the sound of Alek's laughter joining Deryn's. Deryn recovered first and picked up the beastie, kissing his fur enthusiastically.

"Good beastie! Aye, you're an amazing, wee beastie aren't you? You just saved Alek and I from a lot of shouting!"

She nuzzled it quickly and placed it back on the table as it purred in delight. Alek scratched it behind its ears. "A stopped clock is right twice a day." He said, mischievously and Bovril snapped at his fingers.

"Not so," it said calmly, before going back to sleep.