Dalery, United Kingdom

2022

His alarm went off at 7.30, but by then August was already running late.

Bolting out of bed, he pulled up his jeans and put on his converse trainers. The blue-tipped, silver rod he shoved into his pocket alongside his wallet, phone, and keys was a good luck charm; as was the tee shirt with Time Lord printed on the front that he struggled to get his head through. In his kitchen, he hastily made three cups of coffee, piling them all into a cardboard tray. Then he was out the door, rushing off in the direction of the local pawnshop. He'd have to get there before nine or risk missing the bus and be late to work again. August really didn't need another lecture from his boss Marley, so he hurried. Several times he had to apologise, though, as he kept running into people.

At the pedestrian crossing, he ran towards Franklin Avenue, checking his watch before spotting the pawnshop half a metre ahead of him and on the opposite side of the road.

While the surrounding buildings had been repainted and repurposed over the years, Nana's Antiques and Riches had remained the same since 1963. Large colourful flowers were painted on the front window, framed by minty green slats and mustard yellow woodwork. The signpost hanging above the door was written in a bubbly, cursive font, the front door a nice cherry red colour decorated with latticework and equipped with an old English doorknocker.

Chimes above the door rang as August entered, though the old woman behind the back counter did not turn to look. Nana was bent over a cardboard box, delicately handling several sets of china plates and teacups, placing them into a refurbished mahogany cabinet. She was a short, large-breasted woman with greying hair and a tremble to her rose-red lips. Every limb on her was lanky and thin, though there was the weight of a hundred men behind her every action. She ran her pawnshop with the gentle kindness of a mother and the iron fist of a giant.

'Morning, Nan,' August called, picking his way through the cramped aisles of trinkets and antiques to reach her. She must have been reorganising, otherwise, the store wouldn't have been such a mess. As he went, August spotted several assortments of jewels and diadems, an ancient-looking fob watch in desperate need of a polish, two rather ghoulish puppets laying atop a tall jewellery case with a missing leg, and a rather interesting collection of glass animals. He noticed, too, that the air smelt of pumpkin from the lit candles scattered about, masking the stirred-up scent of must.

Once clear of the clutter, August was at the counter, placing his coffee tray down and pulling out his wallet. He threw a tenner next to the coffee which Nana glanced down at for a moment.

'You're here early,' she responded dryly, turning back to her china. 'You're never early.'

'This is important,' said August, chewing at his lip. 'I need it for this afternoon and I don't have time to stop by after work this time.'

'Yes, I believe Parady mentioned something about a party the other day.' She sounded a touch disapproving as she said this, placing the last teacup inside the cabinet.

'It's not a party. It's a convention,' August told her, pointedly. 'The first of its kind to be held in Dalery, matter-of-fact.'

Nana tutted as she closed the cabinet, locking it with a key. 'It's also expensive,' she muttered, finally facing August. There was a warm glow in her otherwise steely gaze. Nana snatched up the tenner without so much as a glance at it, then eyed the coffee cups. 'Sugar? No milk?'

'Just the way you like it,' said August, tapping his foot impatiently. He had another thirty minutes before work started. Though, knowing the buses, he figured even an early arrival at the bus stop may as well be considered late.

Nana took a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee, hiding her smile at August's restlessness. 'It's in the back,' she told him, holding up the tenner. 'I'll fetch it for you.'

As Nana slipped behind the curtain and into the backroom, August took his own cup from the coffee tray. Sipping, he continued to take a mental inventory of the mess in the shop: a beat-up rocking horse, miniature windmill—there were several ticking cuckoo clocks and a radio from the 50s playing ELO's Ticket to the Moon. Despite the current disorder, nothing about the shop had really changed since August's childhood days. Nana still kept the same oil-stained curtains hung in the window. The same shaggy carpets that had gone brittle some twenty odd years ago. Even the old CRT was still sitting in the corner near the front, videotapes and DVDs stacked haphazardly about.

'So, how's work at that museum's gift shop going for you?' came Nana's voice from the backroom.

'Terrible,' said August, unconsciously scratching at the stubble on his chin. He hadn't taken the time to shave before he left his flat. The pinpricks of hair were aggravating him, now. 'It's just the same old, same old with Marley, it is,' he told Nana. 'Try to entertain the kiddies while Josie's boring them to death with her lacklustre tour guiding and you get a mouthful.'

Either Nana didn't hear him or was ignoring his usual griping, as all August heard from her was: 'is it not here? I thought it was here…' She came out of the backroom, then, and looked around at all the clutter. 'What about travelling? I thought you said you were going to go travelling?'

August sighed. 'Well, that's easier said than done, isn't it? Not exactly easy to pick up and go nowadays. Need money to do that. LOTS of money…' He sipped his coffee, checked his watch, and with a snort, muttered, 'or maybe a TARDIS.'

'OH! The TARDIS! That brings back memories!' Nana exclaimed, smiling proudly. She bent over a series of boxes, opening and searching through them. August, knowing she'd injure herself if she stayed that way for too long, waved her off until he found something to stand them on. She continued reminiscing as he did so.

'You know, ever since you were little it's all I've heard from you. Doctor this! Doctor that! Sometimes I wish your mother never let you watch that old show!' Nana patted him on the shoulder as he carried a short stool over to her, putting the cardboard box on top of it. 'I remember Parady was always so frightened of the monsters—hiding behind the couch and all—but you would sit right in front of the telly with a big smile on your face not a bit concerned! D'you know what you used to say when I asked how you could be so brave?'

August looked down, cheeks reddening out of embarrassment. 'I used to say: "the Doctor wouldn't be scared so neither am I."'

Nana laughed. 'You would carry those dingy screwdriver toys with you everywhere!'

'I did, yeah,' said August, subconsciously dipping his hands into his trouser pockets. His fingers traced against the silver rod and he turned away from Nana to look at something else. 'Little old me and those daft screwdrivers…' He could feel her staring at him as he poked at the beak of a stuffed parrot.

'Oh, I think I must have left it upstairs,' Nana announced, with a sweet sigh. 'I'll just be another minute.'

August watched her return to the storage room, hearing the creaking of the staircase as she ascended. Rocking on his heels, he checked his watch once again—there was still ample time to catch the bus—and meandered his way over to the CRT. He ran his fingers across the blacktop, disturbing the dust which he then wiped off on his trousers, and crouched down in front of the screen. It was on that screen his mother had first introduced him to Doctor Who. The show that he'd grown so fond of over the years. She'd bring him with her on visits to Nana's when his father was too busy to watch him. They wanted to talk about grown-up things, so, to keep him occupied, mum would set him up in front of the CRT and tune into BBC One.

'Oh! This is one of mammy's favourites!' she told August one particular evening in '06 as the commercial bumper announced the next programme. 'I used to watch it when I was your age, but they've made it all brand new for your generation. Let me know if it's any good, alri?'

Kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair, she left him to it as the show started. It didn't take long for August to become enamoured with it all: the brave Doctor and his faithful companions flying through space and time, battling monsters, and thwarting the plans of no-gooders—human and alien alike.

'Miss you, mam,' muttered August, reminiscing on the fond memory when the chimes on the front door jingled.

'Xander J. Parady reporting with stitching Nana!' August's best mate roared as he stepped inside the shop and dropped an armload of old clothing into a nearby wash bin.

Parady was a butch lad with a dark complexion that made August's already pale skin look as white as a sheet. His short, black hair was neatly combed—the grey suit he wore more befitting of a man out on the town rather than the extremely talented businessman he was. August supposed when your family owned the largest tech business south of London, there wasn't a particular dress code required.

Despite his status, Parady was rather humble. The clothes he'd hand-stitched for Nana as donations to the poor were proof of that. He was also very generous, having paid for the convention tickets as well as brought a special surprise for August in the garment bag he carried with him.

Realising Nana wasn't in the room, Parady looked around, picking his way through the mess. 'Nana?' he called again.

'She's upstairs fetching me the thing,' said August, his head popping up over the shelving units as he stood straight.

Parady looked confused at first. 'What thing?'

'You know…' said August, secretively. 'THE thing.'

'Ooooh,' realised Parady. 'THE thing.' He tapped at the side of his nose, cheekily, a gesture August was sure he'd picked up from Tom Baker's Doctor.

'You know…' continued Parady as they met up at the back counter. 'Seeing as it's Holly's birthday and everything, today would be a brilliant time to ask her out.'

August's cheeks flushed at the comment regarding the final member of their trio, the bright face of a girl with curls of brown hair, hazel eyes, and a toothy smile coming to mind. He decided to play dumb. 'Ask her out?' but Parady knew him too well.

'Oh, come off it, mate! She stole your heart the moment you saw her in the question mark sweater Year 8! You've got to shoot your shot eventually! The convention is the perfect place to do it. You'll both be in costume; you'll give her THE thing.' He good-naturedly punched August in the arm. 'If you strike out then, I just don't know what I'll do with the two of you!'

'Costume?' August asked, trying to ignore Parady's cheesy grin. 'I thought we weren't going in costume.'

Parady held up the garment bag he still had in his hand. 'You didn't really think I would leave you hanging, did you, Augie?'

August bit his lip, taking the proffered bag. He unzipped it halfway.

'Woah…' August muttered at the clothes inside. He then looked up at Parady with wide eyes. 'Is it really…?'

'One of the costume designers had nicked it for their personal collection. Thought I could offer them a fair price for it,' explained Parady. 'What d'you think?'

August zipped up the bag and sucked in a tight breath, grinning widely. 'I think I owe you this time, mate. Because this is…' he shook his head, unable to find the words.

Parady wrapped his arm around August's shoulders. 'Tell you what—let Holly know how you feel about her at the convention and it's yours for free.'

'Holly would be a very lucky girl,' came Nana's voice. Both boys started, moving away from the counter. Nana had the wash bin Parady dumped his stitching into in front of her, sorting through it as if she'd always been standing there. She pushed a brown paper bag towards them. 'Here you go, August. Wish Holly a happy birthday for me.'

August took the bag with Holly's gift (otherwise known as THE thing) inside, smiling warily. Maybe he could work up the courage to ask her out this time. The worst she could say was no. Right?

Just then, one of the nearby cuckoo clocks began chirping. August looked up, cringing at the time he saw on the clock face, then at his own watch which was apparently running 5 minutes behind. 'Oh, bugger, Marley's going to kill me! Thanks, both of you, for these—' he held up the bags he carried— 'but I've got to run!'

'Don't let it wrinkle!' Parady called after him. 'I'll see you at 2!'

August nodded, shoving open the shop door with his shoulder and taking off down the street towards the bus stop.

Twenty-five minutes late to the museum, August sneaked in through the back entrance and worked his way across the Mediaeval exhibit to the gift shop counter. Wary of his boss, Marley, he ducked behind displays whenever he saw someone that looked like a portly, ginger man in his 40s. Luckily, Marley seemed too distracted with one of the tour guides, Maria, to notice August crawling across the floor in front of the Arthurian display.

'Oi, and where have you been, TARDIS-boy!' exclaimed a boy with a skewer for a nose and fence post-styled teeth as August stationed himself behind the register. He shoved the garment bag Parady had given him and Holly's gift beneath it as the boy, Lars, stocked over. 'Marley's been lookin' everywhere for you. Soon as he's done with Maria, you'll be next!'

'Cover for me, then, yeah?' said August, crossly. He didn't like Lars. The boy was seven years younger than him and liked to act as if he knew everything. Not only that, but he was a right jerk in every sense of the word. Marley might have been a less-than-understanding boss at even the best of times, but Lars liked to do everything he could to get something out of people. Whether that be favours or the opportunity to see someone's blood boiling, Lars didn't care.

'I always cover for you!' Lars complained. 'This time it'll cost you.'

August rolled his eyes, moving to the backroom door located behind the register to get clocked in. 'I'll be sure to get you a passing grade in history class, Lars. This is the one day I don't need any of Marley's crap, so just do me this, alri'?' he said as he opened the door and headed inside.

Lars whistled, leaning against the register. 'It's too late now. Marley's got yeh in his sights!'

August leaned out of the doorway just in time to see Marley walking towards them.

'Right then, just got to…' Hastily getting his clock started for the day, August put on his nameplate, stepping out of the backroom as casually as possible when Marley arrived at the register.

'Hi, Marley. Always a pleasure. Anything I can get you from the shop?' he asked, trying to act as if he'd been at work for the past thirty minutes. Marley didn't seem to be buying it at all. Tough luck, August thought to himself, prepared to be fired on the spot.

Marley was stone-faced. 'Have you heard?'

August blinked, bemused. 'Ah… Heard what?'

'About disappearing people in Dalery.'

'I guess so.' Never having been one to pay much attention to the news, August couldn't quite say. If Parady wasn't so wrapped up in politics he might have not even known who the prime minister was currently. 'Mrs Pepper left the country a few weeks back, didn't she?' he mentioned, trying to remember if he'd heard about any disappearing people who weren't trying to escape their estranged husbands.

'Yeah, she was one of the first, they figure. No one did find out where she went. Didn't think much of it until recently. A lot of fool news just trying to make enticing headlines and the lot. But then last night… my brother vanished! Was with his wife, preparing for bed, in the bathroom, and then—' Marley made a poofing gesture with his hands.

'That's not good,' said August dumbly. 'Sorry, sir, but I don't quite follow. What does this have to do with me?'

Marley threw up his hands, seeming unclear on the point himself. 'You're late and I just thought for a second, "What if that scrawny Welsh boy has gone missing as well? Who would man the shop? Certainly not that half-wit Lars".'

'Oi!' exclaimed Lars.

'I'd have to hire a new guy if you did,' continued Marley. 'Then the paperwork… It'd all be more of a hassle than your occasional tardiness…'

August resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'I'm glad you'd be worried, Marley. Warms my heart. Truly.' Try as he might, August couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice.

Marley didn't seem to notice or care, however. 'I just mean… Don't go missing. You hear?' he said with a point of his finger in August's face.

'I'll try not to.'

Marley nodded. It was good enough for him.

As their boss stalked away, Lars looked on after, whistling. 'Well, you got off easy.'

August watched Marley turn the corner before furrowing his brow in thought. 'People are going missing?'

'Oh, yeah, loads,' said Lars. 'Mrs Pepper, like you said. Dillard's papa up on Charley Road. Marley's brother and some others; all at the oddest times and places where no one could have gotten to them. They all could have simply run away or left, mind you, but Dalery's a small town. People worry. You know?'

'Yeah… suppose so,' muttered August, thoughtfully.

'Yeah…' mimicked Lars. 'Anyways. Homework?'

'Hmm?' mumbled August, frowning at the boy. As soon as he remembered their deal, he scoffed. 'No! You didn't cover for me! Marley's brother disappeared and unless that was you, I don't owe you anything.' Lars opened his mouth, but August cut him off. 'And if it was you, I'd have to report you to the police.'

'Would you still do my homework, though?'

August ignored Lars, taking out his cell phone. He wanted to research these disappearances before the crowds got in.

After browsing the web for a few minutes, he found that Lars was right. Every person who was declared missing disappeared in one odd way or another. Marley's brother, for instance, had been in a bathroom with no windows. His wife never saw him leave it, the alarm system didn't pick up anyone entering or exiting the house at the time; however, she did see a flash of this blinding, white light and then—when she checked the bathroom—he was simply gone.

'Proper vanishing, that…' muttered August, scrolling through more news stories.

Customers began rolling in so August put his phone away and pushed the thoughts of the disappearances to the back of his mind. However, throughout his six-hour shift, all his thoughts came back to the two bags he had stored under the register and Holly's reaction when he finally admitted his feelings for her.

He could only hope for the best.