Part 27 (1/2)

'That'll achieve nothing,' the Doctor snapped.

'Except a lot of satisfaction for me,' said Denman, bunching his fists for another attack.

'You could break him in two if you wanted,' said the Doctor. 'But that won't bring her back. And it won't help us either.'

He took the gun from Denman's hand, then turned and picked up Trevor's discarded weapon.

'I'll take care of these,' he said, dropping them in a wastepaper basket. Then he turned his attention back to the wounded Winstone, still rolling around on the floor, clutching his bloodied face and weeping in pain. 'Get up,' he said.

Trevor stood, shakily.

The Doctor handed the man a blue-spotted handkerchief, then turned to Denman, who was still red-faced. 'The BSE centre?' the Doctor asked.

'Nothing. Nothing but a bombed-out sh.e.l.l.'

'Never mind,' said the Doctor. 'Now, this infertility clinic...'

'You think it's significant?'

The Doctor walked to the window and looked out at the road. The street lights were just flicking on. 'A taint,' he announced suddenly, turning back towards Denman and Winstone. 'Sterility once you leave Hexen Bridge. Tell me about Jack i' the Green.'

Trevor began to laugh, spitting blood from his mouth. 'A stupid folk tale,' he said. 'Judge Jeffreys killed all of the men of Hexen Bridge because he was possessed by Satan, who lives under the village green. Or something. I stopped believing in that stuff about the same time was I stopped believing in Father Christmas. And G.o.d.'

'And yet everyone from Hexen Bridge has a darkness to their character,' said the Doctor.

'Haven't we all?' asked Denman.

'Not as dark as some of the things I've seen recently,'

continued the Doctor. 'Where's this clinic?'

'Surrey,' said Winstone.

'I think it's time we paid them a visit.'

Bob Matson pushed his way through the copse, hoping to return to the road and stroll back into the village. Whatever noise was coming from A Taste of the Orient was lost to the enveloping whisper of the leaves and the stillness of the night.

Bob chuckled to himself. Joanna and the c.h.i.n.k thought they could get the better of him, but he'd shown them now.

And there were even worse things he could do.

He reached for a hip flask of Scotch, and drank as if in celebration.

The wind whispered through the darkness and the trees, rustling leaves and... Was that footsteps? Bob shook his head. He knew that no one had followed him from the restaurant - the people there had other things on their minds - so he was in the clear. And no one in Hexen Bridge would dare to confront him anyway. He ran the Jack in the Green pub; despite the new name, that still counted for something.

A twig snapped. Something was moving through the undergrowth, over towards the road.

'Who's there?' cried out Matson, his voice a clear and strong challenge in the still evening air. 'Come on out, or I'll -'

The snapping twig.

He'd a.s.sumed it was someone blundering through the trees, their feet trampling around w.i.l.l.y-nilly. But what if the twig was actually part of - 'No,' he said under his breath. 'You can't send them them after me...' after me...'

And what if the whispering leaves weren't the summer zephyrs patrolling the hillsides, but the noise from one of...

them... stalking him? stalking him?

Bob Matson ran now, blindly searching for the road. He could see its silvery-white trail through the stunted trees, and forced himself forward, overweight limbs pumping hard.

He burst out on to the welcome tarmac of the road, breathing heavily.

'Thank G.o.d,' he muttered, bent double with exhaustion.

Another rustling noise caused him to look up.

The scarecrows stepped out on to the road, forming a line.

Different faces, but all with the same, dead expression, stared back at him. Reflecting his terror and confusion.

And then Matson realised that he was on the road just beyond the village boundary. And the scarecrows were a cordon between him and the only place he had ever considered home.

Jack had expelled him from the village, and Robert Matson was utterly alone.

CHAPTER 11.

HATFUL OF HOLLOW.

'And for madam?'

'Madam will have the same as what I'm having,' said Matthew Hatch briskly. The waiter nodded and turned to leave just as Rebecca arrived back at the table.

'Sorry I was so long,' she said breathlessly.