Doctor Who_ The Adventures Of Henrietta Street Part 11

On February 8, anyone who visited the House on Henrietta Street might have been forgiven for thinking that nothing had changed in those twelve months. The Doctor was there once again, as was Scarlette. So, too, were Lisa-Beth Lachlan and Rebecca Macardle, both of whom were in some way responsible for the Doctor's return. But it was hardly a happy homecoming. On the evening of February 8 the Doctor lay on one of the old beds in an upstairs room, his friends once again surrounding him, a large patch of blood staining the right-hand side of his shirt.

He wasn't the only one recovering from a shock. Society, the society of the underground, was already adjusting itself to the fact that several of its lost members had returned overnight. In Westminster as in Hispaniola, in Paris as in Covent Garden, those who'd attended the wedding suddenly reappeared with tales that even the elders of the Star Chamber would have found hard to match. They were like prophets, returning from a revelation, and the fact that many of them hadn't hadn't come back only put those who come back only put those who had had in an even better light. in an even better light.

To understand how the Doctor had found his way home, it's best to delve into the legends of the Kingdom of Beasts one last time. Because while Sabbath was doing something something to the Doctor within the central chamber of the palace, a group of British ritualists closer to the entrance (including the overenthusiastic Scotsman, who'd become a to the Doctor within the central chamber of the palace, a group of British ritualists closer to the entrance (including the overenthusiastic Scotsman, who'd become a true true warrior of his clan since he'd arrived there) was engaged in one of the most desperate struggles of the entire war. Before the human contingent had retreated into the great palace hallways, they'd spotted a procession of the ape-shamans approaching the building with an enormous wooden cross hoisted between them: the trunks of two machineel-trees, crudely lashed together. It wasn't so much an affront to Christianity as it was a particularly painful form of death, because mounted on that cross was a figure, a human being, and both he and the crucifix had already been set on fire. The man was still alive as the procession reached the palace, and the shamans hauled his blazing carca.s.s towards the gateway, the unfortunate victim screaming profanities with every step they took. His face was already unrecognisable, but those who heard him cry out claimed he'd sounded like the missing priest, Robert Kemp. warrior of his clan since he'd arrived there) was engaged in one of the most desperate struggles of the entire war. Before the human contingent had retreated into the great palace hallways, they'd spotted a procession of the ape-shamans approaching the building with an enormous wooden cross hoisted between them: the trunks of two machineel-trees, crudely lashed together. It wasn't so much an affront to Christianity as it was a particularly painful form of death, because mounted on that cross was a figure, a human being, and both he and the crucifix had already been set on fire. The man was still alive as the procession reached the palace, and the shamans hauled his blazing carca.s.s towards the gateway, the unfortunate victim screaming profanities with every step they took. His face was already unrecognisable, but those who heard him cry out claimed he'd sounded like the missing priest, Robert Kemp.

Mercifully, those humans on the frontline hadn't had time to listen to the screaming as the apes had advanced. But now, trapped in the hallways of the palace with the flames closing in on all sides, the survivors must have wondered whether the same fate lay in store for them. Beyond the wall of fire that swept in from the entrance they could see the silhouettes of the apes, long-limbed shadows cavorting in the ruined halls. Some reported seeing ape-shamans move in to 'officiate', while others said there was an even greater presence lurking near the gateway, the King himself waiting for the slaughter to be concluded.

Then the unexpected happened. The most striking account comes from those who'd been trapped outside outside the building, who'd been engaging the apes in close combat at the gateway when the shamans had set the fires at the walls. This small group of men, among them several Masons and the the building, who'd been engaging the apes in close combat at the gateway when the shamans had set the fires at the walls. This small group of men, among them several Masons and the houngan houngan emondeur, had started to retreat into the streets of the city after they'd been cut off from their colleagues. Now the ranks of the men were being slowly reduced, by frenzied, suicidal apes who would occasionally leap forward and tear one of the Masons limb from limb before his comrades could cut the creature down. emondeur, had started to retreat into the streets of the city after they'd been cut off from their colleagues. Now the ranks of the men were being slowly reduced, by frenzied, suicidal apes who would occasionally leap forward and tear one of the Masons limb from limb before his comrades could cut the creature down.

The group had been reduced to half a dozen men, maybe less, when things started to change. The first they knew of it was when the beasts suddenly stopped their attack, and turned, with puzzled and irritated grunts, towards the palace gateway. By this time the gate was in flames, so it hardly seemed likely that anybody anybody other than a dumb animal would risk stepping through it, but as the men followed the gaze of the apes they realised they could see several human outlines simply walking through the fire. The shapes were moving quite calmly, several of them holding hands, as if (writes one source) 'the elements themselves bowed to their wishes'. other than a dumb animal would risk stepping through it, but as the men followed the gaze of the apes they realised they could see several human outlines simply walking through the fire. The shapes were moving quite calmly, several of them holding hands, as if (writes one source) 'the elements themselves bowed to their wishes'.

The silhouette at the front of this bizarre procession was the Doctor himself, and even the apes looked astonished as he stepped through the fire and into view... as much as apes could. All the descriptions of him agree on his determination, the demeanour of 'a force of nature' as the fire licked his coat-tails. He had one hand clutched against the right side of his chest, it's said, and observers could see the red stain beneath his jacket. After him came Scarlette, as stone-faced and as unbowed as the Doctor himself, following her 'paramour' without hesitation. Then came Fitz and Anji, and after them Katya, and after them a host of Maroons (including Lucien?) who'd been courageous enough to walk through the wall of fire in the footsteps of this man-spirit.

There's no mention of Sabbath, or of Juliette. As later events were to show, they both felt their work in the Kingdom to be done.

The Doctor, that most alien of elements, had become something quite new. All those who saw him step out of the palace, into a blackened courtyard surrounded by apes, said that he was 'as one who had the aspect of a man man'. A man: one born of the Earth, or at least bound to it. His (mythical?) link to his homeworld gone, replaced by his bond to Scarlette and the Earth, he could now finally present himself as the champion of his adoptive world.

If he'd walked through the fire alone, the apes might have ripped him to pieces there and then. They were animals, though, and thought in purely animal terms. This was the figurehead of a new tribe, almost a new race. It's said that when the creatures cast their eyes-across the entrance, at the black figures lined up against the dancing flames, they backed away just a little... because although they may have outnumbered the humans, no beast in the universe would have failed to recognise a territory challenge like this one.

The humans stopped moving, once they were clear of the fire. Only the Doctor carried on. He walked forward, hand still on his chest, into the centre of the cobbled s.p.a.ce around the palace. On his feet once again, the elemental figurehead he was always intended to be, the still dark-eyed Doctor regarded the animals around him as if they were no threat at all.

Then he issued the challenge itself. n.o.body records whether he made the declaration in English, or just in the body language which he must have known all all ape-creatures would understand. He stood there as the leader of his tribe, and challenged the leader of his enemies to come here and face him personally. ape-creatures would understand. He stood there as the leader of his tribe, and challenged the leader of his enemies to come here and face him personally.

As the archives suggest, the leader was already close at hand. The grunting apes looked to their shamans for help unable to think for themselves, as in any primitive hierarchy and the shamans, in their robes of skin and fat, could only look to a higher authority. The creatures carrying the burning man, now reduced to nothing more than a skeleton, stood aside. They cleared a path at the top of one of the many streets of the grey city, and from that street marched a retinue like no other.

It was the King of Beasts himself. He didn't walk, of course, because pack-leaders never do. His ma.s.sive grey bulk was supported by a framework of canvas, or according to one source 'a bed of human skin', like one of the sedan chairs which were so out of style in London. The skin/canvas was supported by poles of wood; the poles were held by other, lesser, apes; the apes were led by two of the shamanic 'priesthood', burning wooden staves in their forepaws. The apes not only parted when the procession approached, they positively grovelled, bowing their baboon-like faces until their snouts almost touched the ground.

The King is described, in all the texts, as the greatest possible monstrosity. A ma.s.sive, powerful creature, strongest and most brutal of his kind, his pelt was a lighter grey than most of the others despite the streak of sheer black that was said to run down his spine (dried blood, possibly). He was bulky and bloated, muscular and b.l.o.o.d.y-eyed, his long, heavy arms dangling over the edge of his transport and idly scratching at the flesh of the servants beneath him. When he opened his mouth, it's said that the stench of rotting flesh from his jaws could be smelled fifty yards away. Worst of all, there was the crown of teeth and briar-stems, which seemed to have been designed to offend every human being who witnessed the obscene spectacle... a reminder of the Kings and Princes of Europe, of all the b.l.o.o.d.y and miserable mistakes they'd ever made. The King of Beasts' belly was fat, covered in rolls of loose flesh, but as he must have been seven feet from claws to crown this couldn't have made him look any less intimidating.

Even so, the Doctor was undaunted. The procession stopped no more than four or five yards from the spot where the Doctor stood, unblinking, waiting for his audience with the cannibal-G.o.d. When the servants came to a halt, the King gave an almighty yawn, which threatened to suffocate all those present. He flexed his enormous arms, and then, as the red-shot eyes of all his subjects fell on him, he let out a huge scream of triumph. In a sketch of the scene, part of a painting commissioned (but never completed) from the artist Benjamin West at the behest of the Grand Lodge, the black eye sun can be seen surrounding the King's head as he sits on his makeshift throne. It's like a halo, granting the ape its power while simultaneously watching every move he made. No written record mentions the great eye, however.

So what did the Doctor do, when faced with this behemoth of an animal? He simply took another step forward. He, let every creature present, every human and every babewyn babewyn, see that the King filled him with no fear at all.

And then, presumably in the same language he'd used to call the King in the first place, he challenged the monarch to single combat.

In retrospect, it was a stroke of genius. The only real logic the apes understood was the logic of animals, the law of tooth and claw; of strongest-leads*the-tribe. Had the Doctor remained a man of his own people, he would have had no power to make this challenge. But thanks to the wedding he was the King of Time, the King of Earth Earth Time, and thanks to the presence of the other lodges he was the undisputed leader of the humans: even Scarlette, p.r.o.ne as she was to dominate Time, and thanks to the presence of the other lodges he was the undisputed leader of the humans: even Scarlette, p.r.o.ne as she was to dominate any any situation, was happy to defer to him. No ape could have misunderstood this. The leader of the humans was challenging the leader of the apes, the most primal form of ritual in existence. situation, was happy to defer to him. No ape could have misunderstood this. The leader of the humans was challenging the leader of the apes, the most primal form of ritual in existence.

Did the King of Beasts look around him, searching for help from his followers? It's tempting to think so. But for most primates, a challenge to authority is a matter of personal combat rather than pack democracy. So the King of Beasts stood from his majestic slouch, raising himself up on his fat but powerful hind legs. He stretched his arms again, and he bellowed, a howl of sheer animal fury which left those a.s.sembled in no doubt that he was ready for a fight. Scarlette stepped forward then, perhaps to give the Doctor support as the Doctor looked up at his huge opponent. She didn't have time to reach him, though. As she moved towards him he spoke one phrase, this time in a human language that all his compatriots could understand.

'You want the territory that's under my protection,' he told the King of Beasts. 'All right. Then we'll fight on that territory.'

All the stories of the Kingdom, all the rumours and legends, end here. It's as though the battlefield of the Kingdom ceased to be important, after the palace had burned and the last fragment of the Doctor's old homeworld had been taken away. The final stages of this fight would take place on Earth.

Thus it was that on February 8, the Doctor was found back at Henrietta Street. How he got there is a matter of debate, although Lisa-Beth holds that the TARDIS returned at the same time, to sit in its old position in the corner of the salon. Picture this scene: the Doctor in his bed, bloodied but unbowed, regaining consciousness as his colleagues gathered around him. It almost suggests that the events of the Kingdom had all been a dream, from which he was now awakening just in time to deal with the threat in the real world.

As for Sabbath, the Doctor's unlikely saviour... he was to play no further part in the battle against the King himself and nor was Juliette. They weren't idle, though. Those who knew the truth about the events of 1782 noted that throughout February the 'rum ship of silver' was sighted in sites as diverse as Virginia and Sicily. Those apes which were rumoured to still haunt the world, such as the one held captive by emondeur, vanished from the face of the Earth one by one. Sometimes, when the errant apes would be found butchered and flayed in the backstreets and wildernesses, rumour would hint that there was something of a woman's touch to the killings: a certain aesthetic in the state of the animals' skins, which almost smacked of London fashion. Some of the apes just vanished, their carca.s.ses never found.

Evidently Sabbath was quite happy to acknowledge that it was the Doctor's role to deal with the King himself. Almost certainly though, he considered this to be the last last great stand of the elementals rather than the beginning of a new era for the Doctor. Besides, from February onwards he and Juliette had other matters on which to concentrate. great stand of the elementals rather than the beginning of a new era for the Doctor. Besides, from February onwards he and Juliette had other matters on which to concentrate.

The Siege of Henrietta Street The events that took place at the House on February 8 are often known as 'the Siege', but as the battle lasted almost no time at all it was hardly a 'Siege' in the normal sense. Unless, of course, those who gave it that name acknowledged what all those who'd fought in the Kingdom of Beasts had suspected. The palace and the House were in accord, bound together by blood. The Siege had begun a world away, and only the final moves were made in Covent Garden.

It's not hard to see why so much importance should be attached to this 'last stand' at the House. For one thing it was well recorded, catalogued in the journals of those who survived not as one of the myth-battles of the Kingdom of Beasts, but as a real, and vital, historical event. It also set in motion the events which would end in Scarlette's funeral, a week later, although this is hardly noted in the establishment's accounts.

What would the Doctor have seen, when he regained consciousness in the House on that day? He would have found himself in Scarlette's bedroom, and in Scarlette's bed. The House had changed somewhat since he and his friends had left it. In Scarlette's room the walls were adorned with works of (counterfeit) art, the four-poster returned to its s.p.a.ce in the corner. If it wasn't opulent opulent, it was at least respectable respectable. The rest of the House followed suit. The pianoforte once again stood in the salon, while the walls of the hall and the bedrooms were hung with tapestries and paintings, including one of the earliest prints of Fuseli's Nightmare Nightmare. New rugs had been laid on the floors, new paint applied to the walls. Those broken windows at the front of the House which hadn't yet been replaced had at least been boarded over, and while fuel had been scarce at the end of the previous year on that particular evening the oil was burning all through the building. The House was once again filled with lamplight and body-heat, even if there were few women to seat themselves provocatively on the chaise-longues.

The rebirth of the House had been down to Lisa-Beth and Rebecca, of course. Unable to discover who actually owned owned the House, even though they knew that Scarlette had once paid the rent, they'd simply broken into the building and begun to redecorate. It's impossible to say where the money had come from. Successful prost.i.tutes in Covent Garden often h.o.a.rded money for their later years, it's true, but even the combined savings of the two women couldn't have accounted for all the new furnishings. To be romantic about it, it may even have been Sabbath who'd had a hand in things; reversing his earlier decision (for once) and encouraging his contacts to pump money back into the old bordello. If he did, then it was probably to keep the Doctor and company out of his hair, such as it was, rather than out of sheer compa.s.sion. the House, even though they knew that Scarlette had once paid the rent, they'd simply broken into the building and begun to redecorate. It's impossible to say where the money had come from. Successful prost.i.tutes in Covent Garden often h.o.a.rded money for their later years, it's true, but even the combined savings of the two women couldn't have accounted for all the new furnishings. To be romantic about it, it may even have been Sabbath who'd had a hand in things; reversing his earlier decision (for once) and encouraging his contacts to pump money back into the old bordello. If he did, then it was probably to keep the Doctor and company out of his hair, such as it was, rather than out of sheer compa.s.sion.

Alternatively, the women might just have sold off all the equipment in the cellar. No debt-collector had ever dared touch it.

Nonetheless, it was in this rebuilt seraglio that the Doctor found himself when he sat bolt upright in bed, shortly after nightfall on February 8. It's not clear how long he'd been lying there, underneath the red sheets of Scarlette's boudoir. It's only recorded that he had an enormous smile on his face, even if everyone could still see the huge red mark under his shirt. When he took in the decor of the room around him, he just looked delighted. And all his friends were there to greet him, Fitz and Anji, Lisa-Beth and Rebecca, Katya and Scarlette. Only Who was missing, having vanished into the aether on the wedding-day (later rumour claimed he'd gone back to Soho as if nothing had happened).

Both reliable accounts say that shortly after the Doctor's recovery, there was a knock on the door. Given the happily-ever*after feel of the occasion, all those gathered must have expected a hundred other old friends to be standing on the doorstep. Rebecca went to answer it it had always been her duty to greet new clients at the door while Fitz and Anji tentatively asked the Doctor how he was feeling.

The Doctor brightly replied that he was well, although he added, somewhat cryptically, that he was 'only one and fifteen-sixteenths the man he used to be'. He absent-mindedly scratched at his chest while he said it. Scarlette smiled at this, and reached out for his hand, squeezing it affectionately. The two of them regarded each other for some moments there in the boudoir. Fitz and Anji didn't interrupt this little reunion,although for once they weren't embarra.s.sed by it either. It was, as they must have realised, the first time since the wedding that the two of them had been able to speak to each other.

The conversation didn't last long. Scarlette had barely asked whether the battle was over, and the Doctor had barely replied that the final steps were yet to be taken, when the cry came from downstairs.

Both Scarlette and Lisa-Beth believed that they they were the first to the door of the bedroom. Whatever the truth, most of those gathered around the bed jumped to their feet and scrambled to the entrance of the room. Scarlette's chamber was on the first floor up, and the door led straight on to a wooden-railed balcony, which oversaw the salon below and therefore the front door of the House. So as Scarlette, Lisa-Beth and the others crowded on to that balcony, they would have seen Rebecca down below, pushing the whole of her weight against the door. It was dark outside, the only light being from the lamps, so n.o.body would have seen anything of the creatures on the doorstep: except, that is, for their claws. There were hands pushing at the door, grey-black fingers forcing themselves between the wood and the frame. Rebecca was doing her best to hold them back, but she was hardly built for the job. were the first to the door of the bedroom. Whatever the truth, most of those gathered around the bed jumped to their feet and scrambled to the entrance of the room. Scarlette's chamber was on the first floor up, and the door led straight on to a wooden-railed balcony, which oversaw the salon below and therefore the front door of the House. So as Scarlette, Lisa-Beth and the others crowded on to that balcony, they would have seen Rebecca down below, pushing the whole of her weight against the door. It was dark outside, the only light being from the lamps, so n.o.body would have seen anything of the creatures on the doorstep: except, that is, for their claws. There were hands pushing at the door, grey-black fingers forcing themselves between the wood and the frame. Rebecca was doing her best to hold them back, but she was hardly built for the job.

Scarlette immediately called out to her, telling her to move away. The final part of the Siege had begun, the apes converging on the House at last. The Doctor had challenged the King of Beasts to combat, and the House was the venue. It had, as the Doctor had always intended, become the bridgehead to all the Earth.

Did the people of the outside world see it? It seems insane to think that the apes could enter the House from Henrietta Street itself without being noticed. There's no record of any pa.s.sers-by seeing animals in such a busy London thoroughfare, beating and scratching at the black-lacquered door (it's worth noting that the animals only came through the door door, not the windows, perhaps suggesting that the door was their only possible entrance into the bridgehead). Then again, Lisa-Beth's version of events claims that there was a very human human screaming from outside, and the very fact that the battle became known as the Siege of Henrietta Street implies that the outside world noticed something. Either way, Rebecca did as Scarlette told her and moved from the door, bolting up the staircase without hesitation. The door flew open at once, and the hairy, scrabbling bodies of the apes tumbled through into the hall. There were too many of them to count, but all of them were shamans, wrapped up in their blubbery robes. They were evidently the ones who'd stayed loyal to the King, when the other, lesser, creatures had backed down in deference to the Doctor. screaming from outside, and the very fact that the battle became known as the Siege of Henrietta Street implies that the outside world noticed something. Either way, Rebecca did as Scarlette told her and moved from the door, bolting up the staircase without hesitation. The door flew open at once, and the hairy, scrabbling bodies of the apes tumbled through into the hall. There were too many of them to count, but all of them were shamans, wrapped up in their blubbery robes. They were evidently the ones who'd stayed loyal to the King, when the other, lesser, creatures had backed down in deference to the Doctor.

Fitz immediately began to make suggestions of his own, but if he was trying to issue orders then his words were barely comprehensible. Anji tried to drag him back into Scarlette's bedroom. The others all looked to Scarlette, even Lisa-Beth, although Scarlette's first move was to reach for those parts of her belt where she'd once kept her pistols. And her guns had been emptied of ammunition in the Kingdom of Beasts.

Nonetheless, she insisted that they should all stand their ground, even as the first of the apes looked up from the hall of the floor and began to screech at those a.s.sembled on the balcony. While the first of the animals were digging their claws into soft wood at the bottom of the staircase, the Doctor himself was stepping out of Scarlette's room. All eyes turned to him as the apes began to scramble up the stairs.

The Doctor only nodded, and Lisa-Beth claims that Scarlette curtly nodded back. Both may have known what they had to do. After that the Doctor turned his back on all of them, and headed for the next next stairway, which led up from the balcony on to the higher floor of the building... the floor where Juliette had made her home, before her fall from grace. Fitz and Anji started to bicker, but soon decided to follow him. stairway, which led up from the balcony on to the higher floor of the building... the floor where Juliette had made her home, before her fall from grace. Fitz and Anji started to bicker, but soon decided to follow him.

This left Scarlette at the top of the first flight of stairs, facing the sunken, burning eyes of the babewyns babewyns. It also left the women of the House once more looking to her for instructions. Scarlette wasn't thrown, however. Mounted on the wall behind the balcony, not far from the top of the stairway, was the same fighting-sabre which Lisa-Beth had seen Scarlette use so well against the Doctor on her first visit to the House (although it's a miracle that she and Rebecca had managed to recover it after the debt-collection crisis of the previous year). Scarlette wasted no time at all in arming herself, tearing the sword from the wall.

If it seems romantic, it also seems hopeless. The apes flooded into the House one after another, and only Scarlette stood between them and the upper floors. One woman with a sword could hardly have been expected to keep them all back.

As for the Doctor... he was the first to reach Juliette's room, on the third level of the House, so n.o.body else was there to record what exactly he found. From those who followed him, though, the basics are obvious. Because waiting for the Doctor in that room, his ma.s.sive bulk squatting over Juliette's old boudoir, was the King of Beasts himself.

The way the King had arrived here is, at least symbolically, easy to understand. While the other animals poured through the veil of Shaktyanda Shaktyanda to reach Henrietta Street, the King had been summoned directly to the heart of the House by the ritual of the challenge, ready to face the Doctor in single combat. The description of him later told by Fitz, in Fitz's last days at the House, is reminiscent of Juliette's dream diary In the cramped s.p.a.ce of the upstairs bedroom, perhaps even surrounded by the thin smoke which accompanied most hallucinatory experiences, the King was as at home as any piece of furniture. Scarlette's account, excitable as it was, says it all. to reach Henrietta Street, the King had been summoned directly to the heart of the House by the ritual of the challenge, ready to face the Doctor in single combat. The description of him later told by Fitz, in Fitz's last days at the House, is reminiscent of Juliette's dream diary In the cramped s.p.a.ce of the upstairs bedroom, perhaps even surrounded by the thin smoke which accompanied most hallucinatory experiences, the King was as at home as any piece of furniture. Scarlette's account, excitable as it was, says it all.

The Beast itself was among us then. I am reliably informed that as the Doctor stepped into that room the Beast pushed out its arms, so as to shatter the window and punch a hole the size of its fist through the ceiling. Its jaws were frightening in aspect... it had none of its foul worshippers to defend it, or to keep up its great belly, though it showed no fear when it looked into the eyes of the Doctor [Scarlette ceases to call him 'Jack' at around the time of the wedding, oddly]. It must be said also that the Doctor showed no fear as he looked back into the gaze of the Beast.My friends Mr. K. and Mistress K. told me that they heard the cry of the Beast, plunging into its a.s.sault... [as] they clambered the stairs towards that room. It was followed by a most distinct tearing of flesh and bone from above.

Back downstairs, the tearing of flesh was also in the air. At least the shamans here hadn't used fire as a weapon, possibly fearing that they might hurt their pack-leader. Yet still they came, one after another after another, bounding up the stairway. Scarlette 'dispatched' several of the creatures as they tried to mount the balcony, at least a dozen of the animals falling to her sabre. The floor of the salon, Lisa-Beth goes on to say, was 'wet and b.l.o.o.d.y with the carca.s.ses of those that had fallen from on high'. In fairness, none of the three other women were exactly helpless. When one of the apes leapt from the stairway and gripped on to the railings of the balcony, Lisa-Beth managed to kick at its fingers until it lost its grip and tumbled to the floor below. For the first minute or two, then, it seemed that things were going well.

Then Scarlette lost her sword. It was hardly a surprise: the enemy had weight of numbers on its side. Several of the apes pushed forward at once, their 'fetid breath and rank hides' overwhelming her and forcing the blade out of her hands. She slipped back, away from the stairs, as the apes climbed on top of her. Somehow, by some fluke, she managed to survive this. She succeeded in forcing the first of the animals away from her, and sent it rolling down the staircase. It fell among a group of its comrades, still only halfway up the steps, those creatures falling back in turn. Down in the salon, the rest of the horde tossed around the furniture, overturning the chaise-longues and shredding some of the paintings in frustration. The legs of chairs were quickly turned into clubs.

The second of the apes on top of Scarlette was wrenched away by the other three women, and ended up falling over the railing, breaking its back on the floor below. This victory, however, had gained them seconds rather than minutes.

Once again, and for the last time in the war of 1782-83, Scarlette decided that only in symbols could she find the power to end this madness. Lisa-Beth implacable, mythology-proof Lisa-Beth writes that while Katya and Rebecca could only panic, Scarlette took in a deep breath... seeing that Beast of hers gathering below her, unwilling to give up. The Mistress [the only time Lisa-Beth ever calls her that] must have known what she was required to do. At the top of the steps she reared up to her full height like some true mare of the night, her red wedding-gown blazing around her still. Her sword was lost, fallen somewhere in the hair and blood below us. She reached instead for that fragment of gla.s.s which hung on a silver chain at her neck...Once more the apes pushed at us, jumping and leaping on each other's backs to be first at the head of the stairs. Hand on her gla.s.s totem, Scarlette did not even turn away when she told us to retreat upwards to the sanctuary of the Doctor. She said she knew how this battle would have to end, so that the Doctor might play his part.I know that we all three of us hesitated before we turned. In that hesitation I for one saw that she released the chain from around her neck. When the nearest of the demons bolted at her unarmed person she was awaiting it, with the totem of gla.s.s held out towards it. It was then that I turned away. I saw that K. and R. had already turned, the better not to see what followed.I recall fast movement up the next flight of stairs. The ape could not have immediately torn into Scarlette, for even when I was halfway up the flight I could still hear her speaking behind me. R. insisted after this that Scarlette had in the heat of battle given a last message to be told to the Doctor, though I believe it may have been the curious mind of R. which devised this version of the history. Myself, I believe her final words to this enemy to have been: 'All right, you hairy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. I'm ready for you.'

The 'sanctuary of the Doctor' was anything but a sanctuary, however. What's most noticeable is that neither Fitz nor Anji seem to have said anything, or done anything, to interfere with the battle taking place inside the room. They were still standing on the threshold, frozen, when the three women arrived. They must have realised that for the struggle to be concluded, this fight had to be between two combatants and two combatants alone. The Doctor and the King, rival elementals.

But the sight which greeted Lisa-Beth as she entered the room was unexpected. The boudoir had been wrecked, the weight of the ape-G.o.d having torn at the walls and all but smashed the remaining furnishings (Juliette's room, unlike the others, had been left largely bare). The King of Beasts lay sprawled across the boards, his ma.s.sive body taking up much of the s.p.a.ce in the middle of the floor. His enormous legs were kicking in the air, occasionally making huge dents in the wall by his side. The ape's arms extended from his body on either side, and although Lisa-Beth says that 'the fingers were twitching' they did nothing to protect the rest of his body from, attack.

Straddling the big barrel torso of the animal, perched on his ribcage with one leg on either side, was the thin and pale-faced form of the Doctor. He had something in his hand, and was repeatedly bringing it down on the gigantic beast's head. At least, that was. Lisa-Beth's first impression. When she moved a little further into the room, past the staring, unmoving figures of Fitz and Anji, she saw that he was actually a.s.saulting the ape's thick neck. Whatever he was holding in his hand, it was sharp. He was hammering the object into the animal's throat, and even Lisa-Beth admitted to finding the sight alarming, as if there were something b.e.s.t.i.a.l about the Doctor himself. He'd chiselled his way through the front of the neck, half-severing the King's head from the body. As was the way with the creatures, there was no blood or matter from the wound other than 'that which one might expect'.

The King was dead. It was obvious that the King was dead, yet the Doctor still hammered into the neck, as if determined to thoroughly decapitate him. Even when the head was finally severed, the Doctor kept banging his weapon against the floor. In the end, it was Rebecca who stepped forward to stand at the Doctor's side: Rebecca, who perhaps had a greater understanding of the symbols symbols that were needed than anyone other than Scarlette herself. that were needed than anyone other than Scarlette herself.

The next time the Doctor brought up his arm to strike a blow, Rebecca put her hand on it. The Doctor stopped at once, his head turning sharply, to look her dead in the eye. Even Fitz and Anji were stunned into silence by the utterly blank look on the Doctor's face.

Rebecca simply shook her head, and at that point the Doctor seemed to realise that this battle was over. He lowered his arm, and let go of his cutting-tool, letting it roll on to the floor. That done, Rebecca herself bent over, to grasp the head of the dead King by the hair of its scalp the mouth still frozen open, blood coating the snout, eyes sunken into darkness in the skull and to lift it away from the body.

This was the final iconic image of the Siege of Henrietta Street. The others could only watch, in silence, as Rebecca lifted the big severed head in one hand and calmly walked towards the door. For a moment longer the sound of the horror outside, the scratching of the apes and the death they brought with them, drifted into the room. Then Rebecca shut the door behind her.

There could hardly have been multiple witnesses, then, to the final end of the battle. Almost n.o.body could have seen the horror on the stairway, or of the ultimate statement to the babewyns babewyns, when Rebecca lifted the severed head of the King high into the air and every ape in the salon looked up to see the dead, dark eyes of their pack-leader on the balcony. The best description of the scene is a purely aural one, the screeching which Lisa-Beth heard from the safety of the upstairs room, the scream of rage and disappointment when the apes saw that their primate hierarchy had fallen apart. When they knew, as much as animals ever could know, that in this primitive contest of strength the elemental had proved his own blood to be older, wiser, and more powerful: that it was his kind who'd always held sway over time and s.p.a.ce, not demons with the faces of baboons.

Did they vanish into the night, swarming out of the door and into the darkness, leaving only bloodstains and bodies behind them? Did they disappear in a puff of opium-smoke, or did the 'horizon' take them all? It hardly matters. All Lisa-Beth records is that there was screaming, and then there was silence. They hadn't been destroyed, of course, and the universe wasn't couldn't couldn't be as stable as it had apparently been in its prime. But the apes had retreated, at least for now, sent away from Earth in a symbolic rite which had taken a year to perform and which had left the Doctor permanently bound to the planet. be as stable as it had apparently been in its prime. But the apes had retreated, at least for now, sent away from Earth in a symbolic rite which had taken a year to perform and which had left the Doctor permanently bound to the planet.

One can only guess what results might have been achieved if the Doctor had married Juliette, his intended Virgin of Spring.

When the silence reached the upstairs room, the Doctor's a.s.sociates spent some moments staring at the door, probably waiting to see whether Rebecca would re-enter. She didn't, so for the first minute or so the others might have believed her to be dead. It was in that brief moment of peace that Lisa-Beth saw the weapon, which the Doctor had used to overcome a creature of hair and muscle that had been at least twice his size. Perhaps she expected it to be some elemental device of wonder, but to her it only seemed to be a broken scientific instrument of some kind. It looked like a narrow gla.s.s cylinder, although the gla.s.s had been shattered so that all that remained were a few sharp and b.l.o.o.d.y shards protruding from the steel handle. Even as it lay there on the floor, the broken end of the device was crackling with what Lisa-Beth calls 'blue fire'. Even though she admits that the sparks looked 'as sharp as razors', she was unclear as to how such a small instrument could have cut through the beast's neck so quickly. She also found it hard to say whether it had been the gla.s.s edge or the blue fire which had done most of the damage.

As Lisa-Beth hadn't read the Doctor's will, she would have had no reason to recognise the legacy he'd left to Juliette. It certainly wouldn't have crossed her mind to wonder how the Doctor's miraculous 'screwdriver' had come to be there, so long after it had been sent to the Jonah Jonah. Lisa-Beth and Rebecca may have redecorated the House, but unless Rebecca had been making her own adjustments in secret then somebody had been moving the props around without any of the Doctor's coterie noticing.

What's beyond question is that on February 8, the device became as great a totem of power as Scarlette's own shard of gla.s.s. It was an object of meaning meaning. The King of Beasts might have been a powerful, vicious monster, but could it have even understood the importance of that one small length of gla.s.s and metal? Could it have begun to appreciate, as it had died, all the horror, the affection, the heartbreak, the trust, the mistrust and the importance importance that it represented? that it represented?

The apes knew all about savagery. Even the strongest of their shamans, however, had no grasp of the strength which was represented by the Doctor or by Scarlette.

The Doctor may have realised this very fact at the time, because once his friends had taken in the scene he turned to them with a look on his face that was more a look of puzzlement than anything else. The previous days, or weeks, or months, had been hard on him. Rebecca had stopped him making an ape of himself, preventing what might have been a nasty slide into savagery. Now he barely seemed to understand what had just happened, or even the fact that the struggle was over. When he looked around the room, taking in the shocked and expectant faces of his peer group, his only question was a simple one: 'What happened to Scarlette?'

Lisa-Beth records that she and Katya looked at each other, then. Neither of them knew whether they should answer him, or tell their elemental the truth about the fate of the woman he'd married.

The River British folklore maintains that in the early 1800s, during the Napoleonic wars, a certain French warship the Cha.s.se Maree Cha.s.se Maree was shipwrecked off the coast of England near the town of Hartlepool. All human hands were lost on the Longscar Rocks, says the story, but the one survivor of the wreck was an ape. A living souvenir, presumably, from one of the far-distant lands the ship had visited. was shipwrecked off the coast of England near the town of Hartlepool. All human hands were lost on the Longscar Rocks, says the story, but the one survivor of the wreck was an ape. A living souvenir, presumably, from one of the far-distant lands the ship had visited.

The ape was washed ash.o.r.e, where it was found by the people of Hartlepool: people who, in this parochial age, had never even seen a picture of such a beast before. As the locals gathered around the stunned animal, they reached the obvious conclusion. The creature was a Frenchman. After all, hadn't they heard that the French were human and yet less less than human? Hadn't they been taught that the men of the continent looked than human? Hadn't they been taught that the men of the continent looked something something like the men of the British isles, but with more hair and far less civilised charm? like the men of the British isles, but with more hair and far less civilised charm?

So the ape was hanged, states the legend, executed by the locals as a French spy. The story's told even to this day, so much so that the people of Hartlepool are sometimes (with good if insulting humour) known as 'monkey-danglers'.

Like so many of the tales of the era, the legend's almost certainly untrue. Apart from anything else, there's no record of any ship called the Cha.s.se Maree Cha.s.se Maree in that era, let alone one lost off the coast of England. Besides, ill.u.s.trations of apes were common in the early nineteenth century even if very few people had seen one of the animals in the flesh. It's a piece of folklore most probably devised by one of Hartlepool's rival fishing-towns, to make the compet.i.tion sound like buffoons. in that era, let alone one lost off the coast of England. Besides, ill.u.s.trations of apes were common in the early nineteenth century even if very few people had seen one of the animals in the flesh. It's a piece of folklore most probably devised by one of Hartlepool's rival fishing-towns, to make the compet.i.tion sound like buffoons.

Nonetheless, it's telling. It tells posterity that even in the 1800s, the ape was the symbol of something exotic exotic, of something b.l.o.o.d.y and dangerous from far away. It was the most buried, most primal part of mankind, ready to threaten humanity again at any opportunity. As the eighteenth century drew to a close, the Frankenstein Frankenstein age began and the message to the world was dear. All change gave birth to monsters... except, of course, that most of those monsters were borne of the past rather than the future. As later generations were to discover, the more humanity tried to avoid the monstrosities of progress, the more apelike and savage humanity itself became. Perhaps a ritualist would have speculated that the apes weren't simply the price of progress. They were the initiation, the trial by fire, that made progress worthwhile. age began and the message to the world was dear. All change gave birth to monsters... except, of course, that most of those monsters were borne of the past rather than the future. As later generations were to discover, the more humanity tried to avoid the monstrosities of progress, the more apelike and savage humanity itself became. Perhaps a ritualist would have speculated that the apes weren't simply the price of progress. They were the initiation, the trial by fire, that made progress worthwhile.

On February 24, 1783, the British government fell once again. The chaos had lasted the best part of a year, and only now was the true true new order of the age about to manifest itself. The new money was ready to begin its grand struggle against the old blood, and the Countess of Jersey was part of that process. In 1783 she began to a.s.sociate with all manner of Whig politicians and arch-manipulators, seducing her way into the heart of the new society. The new Britain, new order of the age about to manifest itself. The new money was ready to begin its grand struggle against the old blood, and the Countess of Jersey was part of that process. In 1783 she began to a.s.sociate with all manner of Whig politicians and arch-manipulators, seducing her way into the heart of the new society. The new Britain, corporate corporate Britain, would sp.a.w.n the Industrial Revolution itself. It would create a world of new ideas and new machineries, of unprecedented corporate corruption but at the same time unprecedented scientific knowledge. In the years to come there'd be blood and fire; war and renewal; the burning of coal and the burning of peace-treaties; human workers redefined as machine parts while freethinkers made the most glorious of discoveries. Perhaps, then, the Countess really Britain, would sp.a.w.n the Industrial Revolution itself. It would create a world of new ideas and new machineries, of unprecedented corporate corruption but at the same time unprecedented scientific knowledge. In the years to come there'd be blood and fire; war and renewal; the burning of coal and the burning of peace-treaties; human workers redefined as machine parts while freethinkers made the most glorious of discoveries. Perhaps, then, the Countess really had had learned something from her experience with the apes. learned something from her experience with the apes.

Everything revolves around symbols, in the history of 1782-83. So Scarlette's funeral, held on February 9, might well be interpreted as the greatest symbol of all. The old order, some might have argued, had ended with the Siege of Henrietta Street. That was why there had had to be a funeral, one way or another. to be a funeral, one way or another.

It was snowing that day in February: February, like March, was a colder month then. The procession left Covent Garden at six o'clock in the morning, when the sun was still only half-risen and most of London hadn't woken up for the day. Those who carried the coffin crossed the open ground around Oxford Street, heading in the direction of Mayfair, leaving grey footprints behind them as they waked across the snow. They didn't make much noise as they went, and there weren't many in the cortege cortege. It would have been unseemly to give Scarlette a traditional Christian funeral, and unless one counted Dr Nie Who or indeed, the Doctor himself there was no priest in attendance.

The coffin was carried by the women, by Lisa-Beth, Rebecca, Katya and Anji. The two doctor-men dragged behind, heads bowed, though in the Doctor's case it was probably more than just a mark of respect. Fitz Kreiner walked at the very rear of the group, alongside a man referred to in Lisa-Beth's journals only as 'Mr. Small-Bear'. The man was a representative of the Service, the only one of the other lodges which had sent a member to the funeral. Though 'Small-Bear' himself may have been a minor player in events, the Doctor welcomed his presence. The rest of the lodges were basking in their victory, no doubt, gloating at the defeat of the apes and turning their attention back to their own ambitions. Only this one man had acknowledged the importance of Scarlette, this adventuress and sorceress, this woman who'd stood astride the underworld and made the victory possible in the first place.

It was Rebecca and Lisa-Beth who'd arranged the last rites. Lisa-Beth had insisted that Scarlette had left instructions as to how the ceremony should be conducted, though she neglected to say exactly when or where Scarlette had done this. The Doctor hadn't argued. When it had come to planning the funeral ceremony itself, Rebecca had drawn a card from her augur's deck, to determine whether the funeral would be conducted by earth, fire, air or water. The result had been The Queen of Cups The Queen of Cups or or Queen of Hearts Queen of Hearts, the suit of water, which was why the procession was making its way to the Tyburn river.

In twelve months there'd been four rituals, one for each of the elements that Scarlette had held so dear. The March Ball of 1782; the summoning of the TARDIS; the wedding ceremony itself; and now there was her own funeral. How could it have ended any other way?

The Tyburn river was a stretch of water at the very heart of London. It ran from Haverstock Hill right into the Thames, but since the seventeenth century onwards it had officially been used as a sewer and by the 1780s it had already been covered over. It was (and still is) one of London's 'secret rivers', one of those streams which runs quietly beneath the feet of the city's inhabitants, black and invisible. Perhaps because it shared its name with such a prominent place of execution, in Scarlette's time those who knew about the hidden paths of London often referred to it as the Black River.

There was an entrance to the river's sewer-pa.s.sage just north of Mayfair, and that was the destination of the funeral procession. The entrance to the tunnel was subterranean, a heavy but largely unused wooden door at the bottom of a damp, moss-covered stone stairwell. There was silence when the Henrietta Street coven arrived at the door, apart from the occasional echo of horse's hooves from the nearby streets. It was the Doctor who moved down those big stone steps to open the door, forcing it open despite the mould which had grown around the frame. The four pallbearers stood looking down at their shoes, coffin supported between them. There'd been mutterings on the way here, but to the eighteenth-century mind it would have been tasteless to speak at the gateway to the underworld itself.

The sewer was a circular pa.s.sage, wrought out of stained yellow brick. The river itself ran down the centre of the shaft, a great wide stream of black in the half-light of the pa.s.sage, but even those who stood on the narrow 'platforms' on either side of the water found themselves knee-deep as the river ran towards its ultimate destination. Fitz was carrying a lamp, as was the Serviceman. It wouldn't have been much light, to brighten the gloomy, cavernous interior of the sewer. According to Rebecca, Scarlette herself had expressed a preference for the site, in the event of a funeral by water. Perhaps Scarlette had intended it as a final grim joke, a 'burial at sea' conducted not only in the bowels of the city but in the cloying darkness of the sewers. She can hardly have expected there to have been such a reverent atmosphere, when the pallbearers quietly mumbled to each other but nevertheless managed to carry the coffin into the main part of the pa.s.sageway.

But perhaps there was another reason for Scarlette to have chosen this place. A far more telling one.

The pallbearer-women stood 'up to their ankles' in the water, lowering the box so that it touched the surface but keeping it steady. 'Box' seems as good a word as any, as the coffin was hardly elaborate. If the House had any interest in the expensive funeral rites practised by London's morticians, then they had little money to spare now. The coffin was a simple box, in lightweight wood, and there was no inscription on the lid. The ceremony was an epitaph in itself.

Standing over the box, the Doctor began to speak, whispering his own interpretation of the last rites. It was then that the four pallbearers let go of the coffin, Katya giving it a small nudge when it looked as though it might not join the flow of the river. Slowly it slipped away from the curved floor of the pa.s.sage, entering the black waters in the middle of the stream. It didn't exactly float, but it didn't sink to the bottom either. The flow was fast enough to draw the box along, the plain casket picking up speed as it drifted down the pa.s.sage. Those among the mourners who'd been taught the old myths might have seen the river as a tributary of the Styx, while those familiar with the legends of London would have known the other stories that were told about the Tyburn. Further along its path, the Tyburn forked in two before reaching the Thames, and ancient pre-sewer folklore held that a kind of augury could be performed by dropping an object of value (a 'sacrifice' in itself) into the water, divining the future by seeing which of the two paths the object took. Yet there were other, more arcane, legends. It was said in some circles that certain things dropped into the buried river never never reached the Thames, that somewhere after Mayfair an object of a precise nature would find itself swept along a reached the Thames, that somewhere after Mayfair an object of a precise nature would find itself swept along a third third route which even the old Roman geographers hadn't recorded. route which even the old Roman geographers hadn't recorded.

n.o.body could say for sure where that third branch of the black river might lead, but if Scarlette had indeed expressed a preference for the site then it's easy to see why. The third path third path would take the coffin to places unseen and unknown. As with the old stories about sleeping Kings, about age-old warriors who lay beneath England until the day when they'd be needed again, a burial in that part of the Tyburn was no burial at all. It was an unknown quant.i.ty, much like Scarlette herself. would take the coffin to places unseen and unknown. As with the old stories about sleeping Kings, about age-old warriors who lay beneath England until the day when they'd be needed again, a burial in that part of the Tyburn was no burial at all. It was an unknown quant.i.ty, much like Scarlette herself.

Was that what they felt, the pallbearers and the mourners, the Doctor and the doctor, the elementals and the tantrists tantrists? When they saw the coffin slowly drift away from them, to be carried out of reach down the yellow-brick tunnel, did they reflect that n.o.body had really died at all?

The Doctor himself is described as standing there in the shallow part of the water, with his shoes flooded and his head held low. His beard was as well-trimmed as always, his ruffled shirt as unruffled as ever, but those who knew him well had seen the bandages on his chest and understood what had happened to his heart... figuratively or otherwise. And Lisa-Beth records one more telling detail about the scene, as the Doctor stood in the dankness of the pa.s.sage. She notes that the Doctor silently touched the ring on his finger, the ring of silver which exactly matched the one he'd slipped on to the hand of Scarlette in December. It was clear to all, says Lisa-Beth, 'that his intent was to draw off the ring and toss it into the black waters after his friend'.

It was, again, Rebecca who stopped him. It was she who placed a hand over the Doctor's hand, making sure the ring stayed exactly where it was. Perhaps it was her way of making sure he knew that this wasn't over, that this was never never over. Dead or alive, Scarlette was the element which bound him to this Earth and justified his existence as the creature he was. He may not have over. Dead or alive, Scarlette was the element which bound him to this Earth and justified his existence as the creature he was. He may not have loved loved Scarlette, as human beings understood the term could a creature such as himself even appreciate such an idea? but she was a symbol to him, just as he himself was a symbol to all the Earth. Whether the Earth knew it or not. Scarlette, as human beings understood the term could a creature such as himself even appreciate such an idea? but she was a symbol to him, just as he himself was a symbol to all the Earth. Whether the Earth knew it or not.

Lisa-Beth fails to record how long the party stood there in the half-dark of the Tyburn pa.s.sage, listening to the rushing of the water and wondering where it would take the casket. Eventually, though, they turned away one by one and headed back into the light of day.

...Till Death, and Perhaps a Few Days More And on February 13, the Doctor finally departed.

He was well again by this point, so well that for some days he seems to have been darting in and out of his TARDIS on a variety of obscure errands. Those who were allowed into the mystical pleasure-gardens of the box claimed that he'd spent some time 'setting and re-setting the machineries of the device', but there's some confusion here. Though the TARDIS was described as returning to the salon on its arrival from St Belique, by February 13 it was apparently standing out in the open on Henrietta Street, on the frost-bitten cobblestones in public view. Pa.s.sers-by must have given it a wide berth, perhaps linking it with the stories of mysterious objects which had always accompanied Scarlette and her tribe. If the stories are to be believed, then the TARDIS had moved further than the short distance from the salon. It's suggested that the Doctor had taken the machine 'all across the globe' (Lisa-Beth), searching for any remnants of the ape army which might not have followed the shamans into retreat. If this is so, then he might have been surprised to find that the matter was already in hand. He also expressed an interest in discovering the nature of the black-eyed sun which had inspired the creatures, admitting that he had no idea whether the object had been controlling them or simply driving them into a rage. Indeed, this was a quest that was to eventually obsess him.

The night before his departure, Lisa-Beth had found the Doctor standing in Scarlette's old room, staring at his reflection in the looking gla.s.s. He had, once again, been contemplating his beard. Lisa-Beth hadn't said a word, but the Doctor had told her that he thought it'd be best to keep it, at least for a while. Just to remind him that his form and function weren't weren't set in stone... not any more. set in stone... not any more.

A short conversation had then occurred, during which the Doctor had asked Lisa-Beth about the future of the House. With some shrugging, Lisa-Beth had told him that the House would remain open. However, its direction would have to change a little. Lisa-Beth had herself sworn to give up the ways of the ritualist and the tantrist tantrist. The tantra tantra might have taught her certain lessons about the nature of time and history, it was true, but tomorrow's world wasn't the world of the h.e.l.lfire Clubs. As on many other occasions, the Doctor only nodded. Sagely. might have taught her certain lessons about the nature of time and history, it was true, but tomorrow's world wasn't the world of the h.e.l.lfire Clubs. As on many other occasions, the Doctor only nodded. Sagely.

The last goodbyes were said in the salon of the House, the Doctor, Fitz and Anji on one side, Rebecca, Lisa-Beth and Katya on the other. There was a lot of embracing at the last minute. The Doctor held on to Rebecca for far longer than expected, while Katya made such a fuss of Fitz that Lisa-Beth feared 'he might suffocate'. Anji was the first to leave the House after the farewells, followed by a reluctant Fitz, followed by an even more reluctant Doctor. He, far more than his companions, had his roots in this place now. Nonetheless, he eventually turned away from the waving women of Henrietta Street and walked across the cobbled, frosty road towards the TARDIS. There was a slight hail in the air, Lisa-Beth tells, but all three of the travellers did their best to ignore it as they headed towards the blue box that was tucked away between the buildings on the other side of the road.

The three women, once more dressed in their everyday clothes, didn't follow the Doctor and friends out into the cold. They peered through the gla.s.s panes of the salon as the Doctor stopped on the threshold of his machine. They expected him to turn back and give them one final wave, or at least to smile over his shoulder.

He did neither of these things. He simply froze. It was then, says Lisa-Beth, ...that I knew he had felt what was in the air; I knew he suspected, at last, what had been kept out of sight.

The next thing Lisa-Beth knew, he was running. He'd turned away from his magical box and headed along the length of Henrietta Street, tails flapping in the cold wind, bounding out of sight away from the House. There was silence in the salon, the women knowing what was going to happen even as Fitz was poking his head out of the TARDIS.

Lisa-Beth's account of the day ends there. But there's another source, another journal, just as detailed. Because on February 13, while his companions could only look on, the Doctor rushed through the streets of Covent Garden towards Cranbourn Street, towards the same area where Juliette had met her woman-in*black. What impulse guided him is impossible to say. All that can be said, from the journal which survives, is that when he reached Leicester Place he found somebody waiting there. A woman, clothed in red from head to tails, her black-booted feet planted firmly on the cobbles and her hands folded behind her back. Possibly she'd felt him approaching, even as he'd sensed her waiting there... waiting for him to leave, so that she could return to the House.

Their conversation, as it's recorded in her diaries, was long and convoluted. What follows is a summary, a simplification, stripped of all its symbolism and romance except where it's absolutely necessary. It's enough to say that they would have stood there for some while, facing each other in the London cold, before the Doctor finally spoke.

DOCTOR: I knew. I knew you were there. I could tell tell.SCARLETTE: Then it's true. Something still joins us. For richer or poorer, in sickness or in health.DOCTOR: They told me you SCARLETTE: I can only tell you that I'm