THE LOVESICK COBBLER OF PADLUCK
Chapter Twelve
"Maybe you should try some of this," said Mish, offering me the half-full bottle of gin. I shook my head and Tegan said,
"Leave her alone!"
"It's all right," I told her. "The Doctor!" I looked around. I was in my own bed. "How…? No, I need to see the Doctor!" I got up, felt a little dizzy but would not let them stop me; I headed straight to the console room. The Doctor was sleeping. I felt his forehead: cool. He was no longer sweating; his face looked very clean, albeit still pale and translucent. Someone had tended to him in my absence.
"You needed your rest," said Tegan. "We came twice before to check on you and you were asleep. Third time lucky: you're up."
"I feel so silly. But I was afraid we had killed him this time. Not we. Me."
"Maybe," said Mish, slowly, "he is stable now and this is his new normal."
"No," whispered Tegan."
"He may be right," I had to admit. "Nash mentioned the possibility."
"I guess we could get used to it. We got used to him when he regenerated. But will he accept it? Poor Doctor!"
"Well, I think he needs a trim at any rate!" I decided. "And a shave, too. Well, we do know a barber!"
The Doctor stirred and we all turned toward him as he murmured: "Chérissime…."
"What's that?" I asked. "It sounds French."
"Why didn't the TARDIS translate it is what I want to know!" declared Tegan.
"Chérissime," the Doctor repeated, smiling in his sleep.
Tegan brought out another stool and the three of us sat in the console room, whispering together, which was silly, as we actually wanted the Doctor to wake up. "Should I get Uncle Nash to come and cut his hair?" asked Mish.
"Not yet," I said. "Let him decide. If he is stuck with white hair, let him decide whether to cut it, and how short, and whether to dye it… I can't imagine he would want to do that, but it should be his choice at any rate." Tegan agreed. "But we can see all his bones. He looks like a ghost."
"At least he looks like a ghost of himself and not some other fellow," Mish pointed out.
"Poor Doctor." Tegan and I had been saying this a lot. We were glad he couldn't hear us. We knew he wouldn't want our pity. How he would respond to my overwhelming feelings of guilt I could not guess. I knew he would forgive me. I knew I would never forgive myself. I didn't want him to feel bad about my feeling bad.
"You should open your shop tomorrow," I told Mish. "There is no reason for you to suffer. You've been nothing but helpful but what more can you do now?"
The cobbler shook his head. "I want to do everything I can. You may still need me. My business will be fine."
"Thank you," was all I could say, partly because the Doctor woke up and shoved aside the blanket with which we had covered him.
"Too hot," he said, sitting up, looking at his hands and sighing. Then he saw us staring at him and he smiled at us. "You are good friends."
"We failed, Doctor," I cried.
"It's all right. You did your best. I'm okay." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up quite easily. Then he wobbled and sat back down. "Whoa. I shouldn't have done that quite so fast. I've been down for a while. In fact… how long?"
Tegan said, "You were riding a circus horse only yesterday. It's night time now. Not so long, Doctor."
"Seems like years." He stood up again, slowly this time. Tegan's yellow ribbon having come undone, his hair flowed down like a crazy white river. "What is all this? Are you sure it's only been one day? Am I Rapunzel or Rip Van Winkle?" He began, with difficulty, to tie his hair back again.
I went to help him but looked back at Tegan. "I'll have a lot to explain later," she said.
"It's all right. I generally only understand a small portion of what the Doctor says anyway. I'm used to it. There you go, Doctor. It's out of your face now. Would you like me to braid it?"
"Can you trim it?"
"I'm not skilled at that, I'm afraid."
Tegan stood up. "I used to cut everyone's hair at home."
Mish put in, "But my uncle is a barber! Please let me bring him back!"
"Well," admitted the Doctor, "I think a walk would do me good. Can't we go to him? Is he nearby?"
"Not too far! Come on, I'll lead the way. He'll be happy to see you up and about."
"Not if I don't change my clothes, he won't!" The Doctor vanished into the TARDIS interior. We waited patiently for him to return. It didn't take long, and he emerged wearing a fresh shirt and trousers much like the ones he had been wearing, as well as a rather handsome brocade waistcoat. "Come on," is all he said, pulling the door lever.
Once we were outside, though, he didn't follow Mish, who had to turn around to see what was delaying him. "This way," said the Doctor, heading toward the museum. "I have to see a horse about a man."