Part 3 (1/2)

'Then what?'

Nigel smiled. 'Cut him out, of course.'

Angela was telling Martha all about the plans to fit a brand new windla.s.s to the well the next day; it was all 'jolly exciting' according to Angela, which was the first time Martha had ever heard anyone say that and not mean it as a joke. She smiled delightedly and Angela took this to mean she found the whole prospect fascinating. 'You really should come and take a look tomorrow,' she insisted.

'Thanks, I will,' Martha promised, not sure if this was true or not.

She could be halfway across the galaxy by then, or sightseeing in the Palaeozoic Era. Instinctively she turned to the Doctor to check.

Only to find that the Doctor had vanished.

'Your friend left a few minutes ago,' Sadie told her. 'He said he'd see you outside. I think he's gone looking for Barney Hackett.'

'Oh. Where's he likely to be?'

Sadie pulled a face. 'Try the well this time of the day, he usually visits it to make a wish.'

'Thanks.' Martha grabbed her jacket and said cheerio to Angela and Sadie, promising to see them the next day. She hoped they didn't see her fingers crossed. She hurried towards the exit and ran straight into Duncan Goode, who was carrying drinks from the bar.

'Whoops!'

'Oh, sorry,' gasped Martha. 'Didn't see you there!'

He smiled. 'Well, I'm big enough.'

'Yes, you certainly are. Well, sorry and everything. Again.'

'Don't apologise. It was my pleasure, really.' He caught sight of her coat. 'Oh. Going so soon?'

Martha shrugged. 'I'm looking for my friend.'

'I could be your friend. Name's Duncan, Duncan Goode. Sorry, can't shake. . . you know.' He held up the three drinks he was holding together in his large hands. Martha smiled. 'Nice to meet you, Duncan. I'm Martha Jones. Look, I'm in a bit of a rush. . . '

'Wait! I haven't told you about my wish. . . '

'What wish?'

'My wish in the wis.h.i.+ng well. It really works, see.'

'Yeah?'

'Absolutely. I came here a lonely man. I wished for a friend a lovely, dark-eyed friend of the opposite gender, to be precise. And look what happened!'

Martha smiled. She had to admire his nerve. 'Not just now, tiger. . . '

'Hey don't judge a banana by its skin.'

'Pardon?'

'Listen, I may look gormless but I played rugby for my University's First XV. Second row hence the nose.' Duncan briefly looked cross-eyed at his own, slightly crooked nose. 'Occupational hazard but good character-building stuff, so they tell me.'

'All right. So what's a bright boy like you doing with someone like Nigel Carson?'

Duncan shrugged. 'I just owe him a favour, that's all. And it's just a bit of fun anyway. But he's very intense. He can't help it poor bloke's never even held a rugby ball, so what does he know?'

Martha smiled. 'Well, exactly.'

'Right. Look, you're welcome to join us for a drink anyway. . . ' Duncan jerked his head at the far side of the pub where Nigel Carson and Ben Seddon were waiting.

When Martha glanced at them she saw they were glaring icily at her and Duncan. That immediately annoyed her. 'Do you know, I'd love to. . . but I really must see the Doctor first.'

Duncan frowned. 'Nothing serious, I hope. . . ?'

'What? Oh, no, not that kind of doctor. It's my friend. He asked me to catch him up.' There was an embarra.s.sing pause as the two of them looked uncertainly at each other, waiting to see who would speak next. 'Well, I'd better be going,' Martha said at last.

Duncan simply smiled at her. 'OK.'

Duncan put the drinks down on the table, spilling one of the pints slightly. 'Whoops. I'll have that one.'

'What were you talking to her about?' asked Nigel sharply.

'Who? Martha?'

'Yes.'

'Nothing.' Duncan took his seat. 'She just b.u.mped into me. I asked her if she wanted to join us for a drink, that's all.'

'What?' Nigel snapped. 'Are you terminally thick? What do you want to ask her that for?'

Duncan looked over to where Martha was just disappearing through the door. 'Well. . . I quite like her.'

'In case you've forgotten, Duncan, we're not here to fraternise with the locals.'

'I don't think she's a local.'

'I don't care! She's with that Doctor, isn't she?'

'I suppose so.'

'He's trouble,' Nigel said bluntly. 'I can tell. He might be from the council. That well could be a listed building or something. Those stupid old women, the ones who want to refurbish the thing, they've probably called him in as a consultant or something. The girl's probably his partner. I don't want you to have anything to do with them again, clear?'

Duncan sipped his pint and shrugged. 'All right, keep your knickers on.'

Nigel took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. 'Anyway, we're nearly finished here. By tomorrow lunchtime you could be one of the three richest men in the country. Ben and myself being the other two, of course. You'll be fighting off girls like her with a stick.'

Duncan laughed softly. 'Maybe I will. But I won't believe it until I actually see the treasure. My mum always told me never to count my chickens before they're hatched.'

Ben tapped his computer. 'I've checked our progress. By my reckoning, this particular chicken will be hatched by tomorrow teatime.

That's if we start at nine o'clock sharp. It's a full day's digging, but we're very nearly there.' Nigel rubbed his hands together. 'Gentlemen! A toast. . . ' He raised his gla.s.s. 'I give you the future specifically, tomorrow!'