Part 2 (1/2)

Rose was speechless. The monsters were emerging from the trees now, there was nowhere to hide and the Doctor was wittering on about sympathetic building styles!

'Still,' he went on, 'it's probably attracting new people to the area and everyone living round here's obviously doing quite well. Couple of cars in each driveway, quite a few four-by-fours. . . Which is good, 'cause it allows me to do this!'

He raised his sonic screwdriver, winked at Rose and pressed his thumb against the b.u.t.ton.

Every car alarm went off simultaneously. Rose clamped her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the cacophony. The noise was horrendous, but she thought she could just make out the howls of the creatures over the din.

22.Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

Rose looked up. The Doctor was standing in the middle of the street, grinning happily. He tucked his sonic screwdriver back into his pocket and nodded over at her.

'That worked, then.'

The monsters were gone. It was as if they had never existed. She and the Doctor were in what looked like an ordinary housing estate. Unremarkable. Boring.

Lights started to come on and curtains were pulled back as people stared out into their driveways. A door opened and a man in his dressing gown peered out at them, his face uncertain, angry. Rose c.o.c.ked her head to one side, listening. From inside the house she could hear a child crying.

Rose looked over at the Doctor. 'Listen.'

The Doctor had heard it too.

'Yes.'

The man in the dressing gown took a tentative step towards them.

'What are you doing out there?' he shouted. 'Don't you realise how late it is?'

More lights were coming on all over the estate now, more curtains twitching. The Doctor started to make his way down the hill towards the harbour. He turned to Rose.

'Come on. We'd better make ourselves scarce. Probably not a good idea to stay outside.'

Rose hurried to catch him up. 'You think those things are still going to be around? I thought you'd got rid of them.'

'The noise seemed to scare them off, but I've got no idea where they went. And I certainly don't know where they came from.'

The faceless modern style of the estate gave way to a more rustic flavour, with small stone cottages, shops full of postcards and tourist paraphernalia, tearooms with posters advertising trips around the bay in their windows. Fis.h.i.+ng boats and small yachts bobbed in the harbour, halyards clanking in the wind. 23 The Doctor strode down to the harbour wall, hands thrust into the pockets of his coat, and stared out across the water.

'That's one bit of the puzzle, out there. Sure of it.'

Rose followed his gaze. 'The lighthouse?'

'Yeah. Maybe. Thought I caught a glimpse of a light out there when we were up on the cliff top, just before we went into the woods.'

'And that's what's causing the creatures?'

'Could be. Need to get out there and have a gander at some point.'

Rose peered over the wall at the churning water. 'Bit cold for a dip.'

'I was thinking a nice little boat trip.'

'You can't just nick someone's boat!'

'I wasn't going to!' The Doctor looked indignant. 'I was going to use my boyish charm to persuade one of the locals to take me out there.'

'Oh yeah?' Rose stifled a smile. 'And where were you hoping to tryout this ”boyish charm” of yours. In case you haven't noticed, it's the middle of the night and the place is deserted.'

The Doctor turned and nodded at the large, imposing building that dominated the seafront.

'The pub.'

'Bit late for that, isn't it?'

'Lights are still on. Perhaps they're having a lock-in. Come on.'

Beth Hardy was changing over the bottle of single malt, trying to ignore the noises that floated on the wind outside. The spirits had been going down fast since. . . since it all started. She'd have to get another order in with the wholesalers, make up another excuse about why her order had almost doubled in the last month. Not that they were complaining about it, of course. The Red Lion had become their favourite client of late.

The public bar was full as usual, but there was none of the usual chatter that you'd a.s.sociate with a busy pub. Groups of people sat hunched over their pints and gla.s.ses, silent and grim-faced, occasionally looking up if some distant noise reached them from outside. Upstairs she could hear the sobs of her daughter, Ali, and the deep rich tones of her husband, soothing her, calming her. It was the same 24 every evening as Ali's bedtime approached, the false bravado that came as night started to fall, then the anger that there was nothing that her parents could do, and finally the tears as sleep slowly started to take a hold of her.

Beth could see the pain in the faces of a dozen men at the bar, knowing that they, like her, had reached a point where they just didn't know what to do any more and had found other ways of shutting the heartache out.

From the other side of the bar, in the restaurant area, came the sound of raised voices: accusations and counter-accusations. She could hear Bob Perry, the harbour master, followed by the dulcet tones of Reverend Hall appealing for calm. Beth shook her head. Nothing good ever came of these village meetings. Old arguments reared their head time after time, the parents like herself desperately looking for answers and the vicar repeating that they should have faith. Beth's own faith was at breaking point.

The door behind her opened and Mervyn, her husband, stepped back into the bar, giving her a weak smile.

'She says she's going to read for a while. That new Invisible Detective Invisible Detective book Maureen gave her.' book Maureen gave her.'

Beth nodded. They both knew that it was just delaying the inevitable. However much Ali fought against it, sleep always won the battle and the nightmares would start again.

'How's it going through there?'

Beth shrugged. 'Just the usual. Bob and the vicar sniping at each other, one blaming the Devil, the other blaming anything and everything.'

'I'll go and see if I can calm things down a little.'

He squeezed her arm and crossed the room. Beth sighed and picked up the bottle of whisky from the bar. She was lifting it up to the waiting optic when the door swung open with a flurry of wind. The bottle nearly slipped from her fingers, thumping against the side of the bar. In the doorway stood a tall, thin-faced man in a long brown coat and a young girl huddled into a parka. Everyone in the pub turned to look at the Doctor and Rose, surprise 25 etched on their faces. Seemingly oblivious to the attention he was attracting, the Doctor strode across to the bar, a friendly smile on his face. Rose followed him nervously, aware of the stares. The babble of conversation from the restaurant had stopped too and the pub became frighteningly quiet.

'Right, Rose. What are you having? They've got those little cheesy biscuits! I love them!'

Rose tugged at the sleeve of his coat. 'Doctor, I really don't think these people are happy to see us.'

Beth felt her heart jump. 'Doctor? You're a Doctor?'

'Yes.' The man gave her a puzzled look. 'Why? Is there something wrong here?'

'Yes. Please. . . '

'That's enough, Beth!' Mervyn's voice boomed across the bar. He pushed his way through the tangle of tables. 'Who are you? How did you get here?'

The Doctor turned to face him. 'I'm the Doctor, this is Rose. We walked.'