TURLOUGH'S TALE

Chapter Seventeen

I sleep fitfully but at least I sleep. Everyone is already up when I finally awaken, and Alexandra is saying, "I'll wait here for your return, Doctor. It's the least I can do."

"I appreciate that," says the Doctor, carrying empty breakfast plates away. Seeing that I am awake, he calls back, "We kept yours warm for you, Turlough. Have some tea, too. It's hot!"

I get my breakfast from the platform over the fire and Tegan hands me the tea pail. To my shock, the snow has eased up. "Spring," smiles Alexandra. "Time to hunt and sow and reap and preserve. It doesn't last long."

"Does it actually get warm?" Tegan asks, taking the pail from me and sipping.

"No, just tolerable. It helps."

I have finished my breakfast by the time the Doctor returns, decked out with more long torches. Tegan declares, "You eat like a pig, Turlough." That isn't fair at all; I think I eat rather delicately. "You shouldn't wolf your food."

"So am I a pig or a wolf?"

Tegan grins and shrugs.

"Enough of that," the Doctor admonishes us. "I'm off, then. I'll be back as soon as possible. If I'm not back in twenty-four hours, follow the torches. I won't say goodbye, Alexandra. I shall be back."

Then, before we can react beyond shouting "Good luck" after him, to which Tegan adds, "Brave heart, Doctor!" he is gone.

I rise and address the two woman: "I have something I must do as well, but with luck I'll be back before the Doctor returns."

Tegan snorts, "Are you running away again, Turlough?"

"By no means," I respond, a bit huffily. "And don't ask where I'm going. I shan't tell you."

"I wasn't going to ask!"

I take torches with me even though the long ones still stand, whether lit or not. The first one is dark and I post a new one next to it. I follow the path we both left the night before and post new ones there too, and when I come upon one that is still lit, I replace that in case it goes out before I return. When I finally reach the igloo I realize that I would rather be just about anywhere than here – yes, even Brendan Public.

Looking up, I find the overhang that slows down the piling-up of the snow directly in front of the entrance. This is where I am to bury Danny. I am not eager to see Danny's body, not far from the recurve bow with its bloody arrow still in place; I remember how I had to contort myself in order to get that off of me. I force myself to go in. There he is, lying where we left him, his stiff body only just beginning to relax. Not for the first time I heartily wish I had brought some gloves when we first set off from the TARDIS. I don't want to touch him with my bare hands, but with my bare hands I shall dig Danny's grave.

I decide to dig the grave before doing anything else. It's a bad idea; snow could refill it, to what extent I can't predict, but I just can't deal with Danny yet. Anyway it would be better to drag him out and push him in than to drag him out, dig the grave and then have to move him again. Something makes me turn, though. The Doctor put out the fire as we left so now in bright morning the interior is rather dark; it should be pitch black, shouldn't it? An ice block is set in one wall and it directs light into the room. I can see that the room isn't as empty as it first appeared – my focus was on Danny and the Doctor. Now I am able to spot a pile of furs, surely where Danny slept, and upon which now lies that missing bungee cord, which I quickly requisition; a kettle, buckets of various sizes and three metal basins all covered with more furs. I uncover a basin to discover books: hardbacks, paperbacks, pamphlets, chapbooks, scrolls, etched plates, a cube whose function I can assume has something to do with books only because of the company it keeps. They are by no means all in English, but most are. The topics are multifarious. I cover the basin back up and move on to another. This one contains potatoes, onions, bread and packaged foods. Danny won't be needing them but I have no way to carry them back to the house. This basin, too, I cover back up.

The third basin contains crockery and cutlery… and behind the basin stands, on its end, a small frying pan.

I wouldn't want to try digging a hole with a frying pan to plant a tree or to create a proper grave, but it's not a bad tool for digging through snow. It doesn't take me as long as I thought it would to dig a hole that can accommodate Danny, but it does wear me out a bit. I set the pan aside and stumble back into the igloo, where I stand and stare at Danny for a while. Then I grab him by the ankles and drag him over the lip of the room into the entrance, then all the way outside. I set him down momentarily, step over him into the grave and back out again, then reach across and pull him into it.

He lands face down. That's wrong. That won't work. I need one hand to stick out.

In order to roll him over, I have to lower myself into the snowy grave.

Now I can begin to bury him. With the frying pan, I shovel snow onto him until I need to reach down to grab his hand so it will show. This I do several times. Then I keep piling snow on, to make a mound; it will look as if his arm, as rigor mortis eased, fell through the mound. In the end it doesn't look like that at all, but it seemed like a good idea at the time and now I'm stuck with it. I suppose the falling snow will help. I pull the Doctor's cricket ball out of my pocket and place it in Danny's hand. It falls out. Does it have to be in his hand? Can't it look as if it was in his hand but fell out? I pick it up and put it back in his hand and close his fingers around it. No go. I will have to turn his wrist so that the hand lies palm-up and then place the ball in it. This works but now I am really nervous. The whole scenario has to be completely convincing. The Doctor admitted last night that it was "not the most convincing ruse" and we agreed that it was better than nothing, but now that I'm here, following instructions and dreading what comes next, I am not sure at all that it's better than nothing…. Not at all sure.