Doctor Who - Downtime Part 17

'Thank goodness. I thought you might have been lying unconscious in here for days on end.' She barged past him, eyeing the newspapers that still lay inside the door. The navy cardigan draped over her shoulders flung its arms wide in shock as she started her whirlwind inspection. Why was it that whenever she popped in, an increasingly frequent occurrence, he felt as if he was on full dress parade? At this moment, he needed a visit from her even less than one of the cakes she seemed to have developed a habit of bringing him.

'Well, as long as you're up and about,' she continued. Did you get my telephone message?'

'Yes, I heard it. I'm sorry, I've been busy. I've been away.'

To his annoyance, she was casting about in the front room, plainly looking for the bottle he had been hitting.

'How nice to go away on the spur of the moment. Where have you been?'

'The seaside,' he snapped. 'It is is the Easter holiday, isn't it?' the Easter holiday, isn't it?'

'I thought perhaps you were having a party. All that milk.'

She stood waiting for some explanation.

'Celia, the phone calls you've been getting. Who was it?'

'I've no idea. The man didn't leave a name or a message.'

She had picked up the newspapers from the hall and was threatening to start tidying up. 'He just asked for Brigadier Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. I'm sure it wasn't a parent. And since I won't give out direct numbers and told him so, he just hung up.'

'I've had some strange calls too,' said the Brigadier.

'What you need is a cup of coffee,' she said and he was just in time to block her path into the kitchen.

'I was about to have a bath.'

'Were you, dear? I thought I could hear water running.'

He made a dash up the stairs for the bathroom and began mopping the floor. It was no use arguing with Twickers; the old busybody was already tidying up downstairs. That was humiliating in the least. Just, he suspected, what she had always hoped for, but he had other more bewildering things on his mind. He had his bath, as long a bath as possible, until the water was tepid. It gave him half an hour of seclusion in which to take in events and plan his strategy. He shaved, dressed and went back down to the coffee Celia had waiting.

'Do you remember Daniel Hinton?' he asked.

'Hinton D. A.,' she said, dunking one of his ginger biscuits.

'That boy was never out of trouble. Very twitchy. Finally expelled three years ago for terrifying the fourth-year dormitory with some black-magic nonsense. And quite right too. Matron's cat never got over the shock. Why do you ask?'

'I don't know,' frowned the Brigadier.

Celia shrugged her cardigan with irritation. 'That's all right. I don't expect to be told anything. I'm sure you think I'm interfering, but if you need to talk... Oh, Brigadier, please stop pacing up and down like that...'

He kept glancing out around the side of the curtain. 'I have to go out.'

'But you only just got back. If you'd wanted some shopping done...'

'I'm quite capable of getting in provisions myself.' He was squinting out of the window. 'Good Lord.'

Celia stepped up behind him, but he pushed her back.

'No, no, no. Keep down.' He angled a finger at the school field across the avenue. 'There. Do you see? On the far side by the pavilion.'

A figure was there. A woman, tiny, but the black hooded cloak made her stand out against the stark vista of the field.

'Where?' asked Celia.

'Over there. On the boundary. I'm sure I've seen her somewhere before.'

'Are you sure?' she said, but she was looking at him.

'Yes, definitely familiar. Recently too.'

'I'm sorry, Brigadier.' Her hand touched his arm. 'I can't actually see anyone.' Her look was one of sad concern.

'Just there.' He looked where he had pointed and saw that the figure had vanished. 'Well, she's gone now.'

'Yes,' said Celia slowly.

'I'm not imagining it you know.'

'No, of course not.' She looked along the avenue. 'I wonder when they're going to start digging things up. That van's been there for days.'

The Brigadier frowned and peered through the window at the Gas Board van. There was a figure slumped in the front seat. He appeared to be asleep.

'Perhaps I should ring the Gas Board,' Celia suggested.

Any stranger seen loitering around the school grounds was a cause for concern. 'Or even challenge him.'

'Not just yet. I don't think the Gas Board will know.' Celia took another swig of coffee. 'Brigadier, is this all to do with those phone calls?'

The Brigadier smiled. 'Nothing to worry about, Celia. Just some old army colleagues trying to get in touch, I expect.'

'They have a strange way of going about it, I must say.'

'Well, must get on.' He started to usher her towards the door.

'The other reason I came round was the retirement meeting?'

He was suddenly fl.u.s.tered. 'Sorry, I was forgetting. Can't be for a few days yet. I may be away again. I'll give the headmaster a ring and apologize.'

'You will will be back before term starts?' be back before term starts?'

'Oh, yes. Not to worry, Celia. Just some business I have to attend to.'

He finally closed the door on her and watched from the window as she marched towards the van, cardigan flapping. It had come as no surprise when he had discovered that Twickers was merely a conflation of Celia's original nickname, Old Tweed Knickers. For sheer formidability, she earned every st.i.tch of it.

The van's occupant had sensibly disappeared, but Celia made a note of the number plate and set off in the direction of the headmaster's house.

Sarah waited until she got home before she rang UNIT. She was not prepared for the changes that had occurred to the once familiar organization. Security had been radically upgraded.

She was subjected to a series of ident.i.ty checks. Her name was recognized by the personnel system, but when it was established that she was a journalist, all the doors started to slam shut.

'How did you get hold of this number?' she was repeatedly asked.

She was tempted to tell them that her dog had found it. 'I always used this number when I spoke to Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. You can check on your files.'

'Yes, Miss Smith, but according to records that was nearly twenty years ago.'

'How many other breaches of security have you had lately?' she asked.

'Why are you ringing, Miss Smith?'

'I have important information. I told you, I used to work with Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart.' As an afterthought she added, ' And And the Doctor.' the Doctor.'

'Just one moment.' There was a long pause.

'I think we've rattled them,' she muttered to K9. The angular metal dog was parked beside her chair, monitoring the call intently. His tail wagged slowly in positronic appreciation.

'Miss Smith.' A suave male voice on the line. 'Captain Cavendish of Virtual Ordnance Group. Perhaps I can help.'

'I hope so, Captain.'

'I gather you used to work for UNIT.' He sounded condescending and a little bored.

'Yes, in a periodic capacity.'

'I see. That would be with Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart.'

'Yes. Look, perhaps I could speak to your current CO. Is it still Brigadier Crichton?'

'I'm sure you can pa.s.s any information you have on to me, Miss Smith.'

'I'm not sure that I can,' she said. 'It is is very urgent. It concerns UNIT security.' very urgent. It concerns UNIT security.'

'Right. Perhaps I should say that if there is a security breach, we will be addressing the problem.'

'You mean "no comment".'

She had to hand it to him. His voice stayed absolutely smooth. 'I'm sure that if there is a need, then a press statement will be issued.'

'Oh, come on. This is about the Brigadier...'

'Naturally Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart's safety is receiving our full and discreet attention.'

'Why?' she demanded. 'What sort of trouble is he in?'

'Perhaps you'd like to come in and tell us what you think you've uncovered.'

'I didn't say that.'

She could hear him smile. 'Even so, as a former employee...'

'I was never "employed" as such.'

'I could arrange an appointment.'

She was starting to get very wary of this persistent crocodile charm. 'Thank you so much for talking to me, Captain Cavendish. I don't think I'll come in if you already have everything in hand. My dog wouldn't like it. Good morning.'

Sarah put the phone down and breathed a sigh of exhaustion. 'Oh, K9. As long as they don't decide to pay us a visit in return.'

The robot dog retracted his aerial from the telephone. 'No worries necessary, mistress. The call was re-routed through my personal transmitters and is therefore untraceable.'

She rubbed her hands across the back of her neck. 'I only hope you're right. Something was very wrong there. You don't think, I mean it's stupid but...'

'Mistress?'

'No. Well, I mean, I had this sudden thought. I mean supposing UNIT had been n.o.bbled.'

The phone trilled. Sarah nearly choked on her tea.

12.