Part 5 (1/2)

29.

Chapter Four.

'Oh, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!'

The large woman in the pillbox hat gave Ace an indignant look.

'Well, really!'

The Doctor smiled apologetically. 'Please excuse my friend. She's rather exuberant.'

'Is that what you call it?' The woman hauled herself out of her seat and rang the bell of the bus. 'Well, I can do without that kind of exuberance, thank you very much. Good day to you.'

The bus swung into its stop and the woman vanished down the stairs and out into the street. Ace grunted. 'Miserable old bat.'

The Doctor sighed wearily. 'She's from an era where young ladies don't blurt out ”Oh, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l” on public transport.'

'But look, Professor. I tore my jacket back there on that bl...'

'Ace.' The Doctor glared at her.

'... on that wall. And after you'd fixed it as well.'

The Doctor peered at the ragged tear. 'I'll sort that out when we get back to the TARDIS.'

'And when is that likely to be, eh? Now that we've upset those squaddies it'll be harder to break in.'

'Oh, we'll worry about that when the time comes.'

The Doctor stared absently out of the window. Ace shook her head.

She wasn't going to get anything out of him at the moment. She leaned forward in her seat and peered down into the jostle of London. The bus meandered through streets only half familiar to Ace. Every now and again she caught sight of buildings that she thought she recognised, rising from the rubble of bomb sites. There were police boxes everywhere, and she kept finding herself caught out by the familiar shapes. It was weird seeing so many of them. It was if a hundred Doctors had arrived in London at the same time, all intent on solving the same problem. All ganging up to thwart some alien menace. Or all watching her. She banished the thought, determined that it was her imagination.

As they pulled into Piccadilly Circus, the Doctor suddenly bounded to his feet, rang the bell and scampered down the stairs.

'Hey, hang about, Professor!' Ace jogged after him.

30.The bus slowed to a halt and the two of them stepped onto the pavement.

'Hold tight, please.' The conductor rang the bell and the double-decker roared away into the traffic. The Doctor stared wistfully after it.

'Always thought I'd make a good bus conductor.'

'I thought you had a morbid fear of bus stations,' Ace teased.

'True...' The Doctor spun on his heels getting his bearings. 'Now, if I'm right, it will be just over... there.' He stabbed at the air with the tip of his umbrella.

'What will?'

The Doctor beamed at her. 'Breakfast!'

The little cafe on Frith Street was crowded. Suited businessmen struggling with unwieldy newspapers sat elbow to elbow with their colleagues at the tiny Formica tables, empty plates greasy with the evidence of English breakfasts in front of them. Street traders and shop owners shouted their orders for sandwiches above the babble of Italian from the kitchen.

Ace sat in the window with a cracked enamel mug full of steaming tea and the remains of a plate of sausage sandwiches. The Doctor was lost amongst the melee behind the counter, chattering animatedly to the owner. Apparently he'd met Luigi ten years ago, helping out in the kitchen when the place had opened. Abbott and Costello had Performed the opening ceremony, apparently. It hadn't surprised Ace that the Doctor knew them. He was like an old film comedian himself Taking a mouthful of sandwich, she stared out into the crowds of Soho. Another old stomping ground. Once again she found herself in familiar surroundings but years before her birth. The last time she had been in central London was during the Blitz. The signs of that conflict were still visible, great scars across the city, and there was a weariness In the faces of the people. But the trappings of Christmas were starting to appear. Decorations on lampposts, paper-chains in windows. The Market round the corner had been crammed with baubles and freshly Cut trees. It amazed Ace that so much of life had returned to normal in a little over ten years. She tried to imagine how her life would have been affected if there had been a war in the 1970s, or the 1980s. She couldn't believe that she or her friends would have coped with as much resilience as these people had.

She was startled from her musings by the Doctor dropping into the seat next to her, a dripping egg roll grasped in one hand, his fingers yellow with yolk.

'Penny for them?'

Ace slurped her tea. 'Just daydreaming, that's all.'

31.The Doctor crammed the last bit of egg roll into his mouth and wiped his hands on his paisley handkerchief. 'Luigi was kind enough to lend me his phone book' He waggled a sc.r.a.p of paper at her. 'I've got the addresses of every Dumont-Smith in London. As soon as you've eaten up we can get going.'

'How many of them are there?'

'Oh, only a few dozen.'

'A few dozen!' Ace's heart sank. She had hoped that they could spend some time looking around. It was one of the perks of time travel.

'Professor, we're going to be traipsing back and forth across London all day in the rain!'

The Doctor frowned at her. 'You had something better to do?'

'Well... I thought we could wander about for a bit you know, do some Christmas shopping or something'.

The Doctor sighed. 'We find a mysterious military hospital, a pilot from a non-existent organisation and you want to go sightseeing.'

'Oh, come on, Professor, just for a bit.'

'All right, all right, all right!' He rummaged in his pockets and produced a scuffed leather bag. 'Here.' He tossed the bag to Ace. It c.h.i.n.ked pleasantly in her hands.

'Pocket money.'

Ace grinned. 'I get to go to the pictures while you handle all the grown-up stuff, eh, Professor?'

He tapped her gently on the nose. 'There shouldn't be too much trouble you can get into in 1950s' London. I'll sort out which of these Dumont-Smiths we need to be chasing and meet you later. Nelson's Column, seven o'clock?'

Ace stuffed the bag of coins into her pocket. 'Right, Professor. Hope you find your Mr Dumont-Smith.'

She slid from behind the table, then tousled his hair cheekily, pulled the door of the cafe open and bounded out into the street.

The Doctor watched through the steamed-up window as Ace vanished into the crowds. She turned and waved at him, then she was gone, lost in the swirl of shoppers.

He gave a deep sigh. This was the moment that he had been dread ing. The moment that he let her go her own way. The moment he gambled with her life. The last throw of the dice before she died...

He unfolded the piece of paper. A single address was written in his scrawling hand. There was only one Dumont-Smith. A solicitor just off Regent Street.