Doctor Who: Paradise Towers (10 page)

But she was back at the flat and there could be no doubt that it was indeed Tilda standing there in her doorway, as before, smiling welcomingly.

‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ Tilda beamed. ‘We’d almost given up hope. How have you been getting on?’

‘Not very well,’ Mel sighed. ‘I seem to have been going round and round in circles.’

Tilda was all commiseration. ‘Oh, what a shame! Why don’t you come inside and rest your weary bones?’

Mel hesitated. She was torn. She felt strongly that she should carry on and find the Doctor. And somewhere inside her an alarm bell was going off, warning her that it was not a good idea to accept Tilda’s invitation. But, on the other hand, she was very tired. If she didn’t rest for a while, have something to eat and drink, she would collapse from exhaustion in some dingy corner of the Towers, which would be no help either to the Doctor or herself.

So she accepted. ‘Just for a moment, mind,’ she insisted, ‘to get my strength back.’

Tilda, needless to say, was delighted. She hustled Mel eagerly into her flat before Mel had a chance to re-consider. As they entered, Tabby looked up from a long piece of knitting she was working on.

‘Tabby,’ trilled Tilda, excitedly. ‘Guess what, a real piece of good fortune. You’ll never guess who’s arrived for tea. Mel!’

And Tabby smiled welcomingly too. Mel had forgotten about the long, sharp front teeth until now. If she’d remembered them, she might not have been so easily persuaded to come in for tea. But then she was probably being silly. And, besides, Tilda was bustling about eagerly preparing the tea things, humming happily to herself. And Tabby was beckoning to Mel to sit beside her. It was too late now.

‘Build High for Happiness, Doctor!’

‘And Build High for Happiness to you too.’

The party atmosphere was still prevailing in Red Kang Brainquarters. ‘We always knew we liked you, Doctor,’ Fire Escape confided, ‘because of your high fabshion clothes.’

‘Thank you,’ the Doctor returned, amiably. ‘But let us not lose sight of what we have to do. We must find Mel, my friend, and solve the mystery of Paradise Towers because I have learnt enough to know that its very existence is at stake.’

‘Icehot, Doctor, icehot,’ Bin Liner agreed. The Kangs were always pleased when there was a scent of adventure in the air.

And now they had heard what the Doctor had to say and seen his prodigious conjuring act with the talkiphone, they were beginning to understand that they had to take action or else. If even Caretakers were being made unalive, something very odd indeed was going on.

The Kangs raised their cans to celebrate their new-found understanding once more and the Doctor returned the toast for the umpteenth time, wondering once again where the phrase

‘Build High for Happiness’ came from. Another little mystery to add to the others.

Then a warning alarm went off. Its strident ringing shattered the hilarity in an instant. The Kangs were alert again, discarded crossbows back in their hands. Bin Liner ran to a periscope-like peephole to see what was going on at floor level above.

When she removed her eye from the peephole, her face was stern. ‘I can see Caretakers.’ She turned grimly to the Doctor.

‘Ware Doctor!’

The mood was ugly now. The Doctor was no longer the Kangs’ friend. ‘He brings them here,’ said Fire Escape, pointing accusingly. ‘Because, like Caretakers, he wants all Wallscrawlers unalive.’

‘Not at all. You don’t understand,’ protested the Doctor. ‘I mean, the last people I want to meet are the Caretakers. I’d be in as much danger as you are. More, probably.’ He looked round the circle of suspicious young faces. ‘You’ve got to believe me. We’ve got to work together. The Chief Caretaker is off his head. If we don’t stop the wipeouts, who will?’

The alarm kept ringing. The Doctor had to raise his voice to be heard above it. ‘Please,’ he pleaded. Then the alarm ended its piercing warning and there was quiet for a moment. And in the quiet, another sound became audible. The distant sound of a powerful drill. The Caretakers must be drilling into the door.

They would soon be down in the Brainquarters.

The Kangs stood momentarily paralysed, unable to decide what to do. ‘You must have a secret escape route,’ the Doctor urged. ‘It’s not like Kangs to allow themselves to be caught like rats in a trap.’

‘Red Kangs have an unseen outway,’ Bin Liner acknowledged. ‘But –’

‘But what?’

‘The Caretakers will be in our Brainquarters too soon for the Kangs to use it.’ She glanced regretfully towards the concealed outway which a couple of the Kangs had started to uncover.

‘I see,’ the Doctor said, ‘you need time?’

Bin Liner nodded. And at that moment, the Doctor made his decision. ‘I will buy you the time,’ he announced. ‘I’m the reason why the Caretakers are here. Go on. Make your escape while you can.’

The Kangs still stared. ‘It’s not like Kangs to be so slow, is it?

Go
on
.’

And then almost as if they were parts of one being, the Kangs started to move. Within seconds they were gathered at the concealed outway in an orderly file. And in not much more time they were through the hole and out of sight. Bin Liner, the last, pulled the covering back over the hole.

The Doctor was alone in the Kang Brainquarters. The drilling sounds were getting louder. The Caretakers would be there in a few minutes. The Doctor had made his choice and he had to live with it. He sat down to wait.

7

‘You feeling better now, dear?’

‘Yes, thank you. There’s nothing quite like tea and crumpets is there? I feel so much more relaxed.’

It was true. Mel was feeling nicely drowsy but a lot better for Tilda and Tabby’s hospitality. Tabby had toasted crumpets on a large metal toasting fork over a fire. And Tilda had provided seemingly endless amounts of cream and cakes for her to eat.

‘Oh, it’s so good to hear you’re relaxed, dear. Isn’t it, Tilda?’

‘Very good,’ Tilda agreed.

‘All the same,’ Mel began, ‘I really must be going now.’ She was so comfortable in her armchair that it did seem a pity to drag herself away but she knew she had to if she was ever to meet up with the Doctor.

She started to rise from her chair but Tabby gently restrained her.

‘We couldn’t possibly let you go,’ she said, her hand tightening on Mel’s arm in a slightly alarming way.

‘Oh, no, not this time,’ Tilda put in. ‘We can’t possibly miss this opportunity, can we, Tabby?’

‘No, we can’t, Tilda. Not since those horrid little Kangs got suspicious of our little ways.’

‘I am sorry dear.’ There was a regretful look in Tilda’s eye and Tabby’s grip had not lessened in force one jot. Mel watched mesmerised. She didn’t understand what they were talking about. Or, rather, perhaps she did and couldn’t quite believe it.

The bones. The fattening up. Tabby’s rat teeth. Surely not.

‘What do you mean?’ she demanded, trying to control a slight tremor in her voice.

‘Well, you see, dear,’ Tilda answered sweetly, ‘we would like you to stay. For a very long time.’

‘In fact,’ cooed Tabby, ‘we don’t imagine you ever leaving at all.’

‘You are joking, aren’t you?’ Mel strove to control the rising panic. If this was a nightmare she couldn’t wait to wake up. But no, Tilda and Tabby were there and regarding her hungrily.

Hungrily. There was no other word for it.

‘I’m afraid we’re not joking,’ Tilda insisted gravely. ‘We don’t see this as a matter for humour. We mean every word.’

Mel tried to rise but Tabby’s hand pinned her to the chair.

Tilda meanwhile had grabbed hold of some of Tabby’s knitting and now she threw it over Mel. Mel struggled but it was hopeless. The old ladies were surprisingly strong and wiry and in a few moments she was trussed up like a turkey.

‘In our experience, Mel dear,’ Tilda was saying as the Rezzies completed their task, ‘it is much better not to struggle. It only causes needless distress.’

And then the old ladies were bustling all over the kitchen, bringing out utensils of all sorts, chopping boards, saucepans, spices. It even looked as if Tabby’s toasting fork had more than one use. And the waste disposal unit was starting to throb loudly again just to add to the ghoulishness of the spectacle.

‘Look,’ Mel pleaded, ‘a joke’s a joke but this has gone on long enough.’

Tilda paused for a moment in her preparations. ‘Mel, dear, I do think by now you should appreciate the fact that, though Tabby and myself are not averse to a humorous remark now and then, no joke is intended.’ And, having finally damped down Mel’s last flickering hopes, she returned to her work. ‘Can you spot the basil anywhere, Tabby?’

Tabby fumbled in the cupboard. ‘It’s here somewhere.’

Mel sat in despair. And then something very peculiar happened. A large white claw emerged from the waste disposal chute. It snapped open and shut silently a few times, as if searching for something, and then popped back out of sightletting the flap on the disposal system fall back into place.

Mel stared. And continued to stare. She couldn’t really believe she had seen what she was seeing. An involuntary cry came from her lips.

‘What is it dear?’ Tabby was all attention.

‘I think there’s something wrong with the waste disposal unit.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense, dear. It always makes that funny noise.’

‘But I think I saw something come up it,’ Mel insisted.

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘We’d better make sure, Tabby,’ put in Tilda, busy chopping up vegetables.

‘Oh, very well, dear.’ Tabby gave a weary sigh and approached the chute. Mel watched her but Tilda carried on with her preparations, her back turned away from the proceedings, concentrating hard on her task.

Tabby peered at the unit. It was very noisy. Far noisier than usual. And the control panel light was flashing in an erratic way.

But nothing unusual was visible.

‘I can’t see anything, Tilda,’ she announced. And then, just to make sure, she opened the flap to take a closer look. Mel tried to shout out but it was too late. The metal claw had already shot out and fastened itself round Tabby’s throat. She didn’t even have time to cry out.

Mel watched, horrified. In a few seconds the claw had whisked the bulky Rezzie up off her feet and dragged her down the chute. She disappeared with one final cry. And then the flap closed. Tabby was hurtling down the chute to whatever lay in wait at the bottom of the Towers.

Tilda heard the noise and turned. In a flash she realised Tabby was no longer there. She rushed to the chute and lifted the flap to look down.

‘Tabby! Tabby!’ Tilda’s voice became a wail as she realised her companion was gone for good. But she did not waste time on grief. Instead, she turned on Mel, her face a mask of fury.

The kitchen knife she was still holding glinted ominously in her hand. Mel instinctively cowered back.

‘Oh, what a naughty little girl we are!’ Tabby hissed furiously. ‘Looks as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth and now she’s killed poor dear Tabby.’

‘It wasn’t me, Tilda,’ Mel protested. ‘It was the thing in the waste disposal unit that –’ her voice trailed away. Tilda was so bent on getting revenge for her loss that she was quite beyond listening to reason or logic.

‘Fibbing too, is it now?’ she spat. ‘I hate little fibbers.’ She started to advance menacingly, kitchen knife in hand. Mel continued to shrink back but she was tied so tight there was little she could do to avoid Tilda’s murderous advance. Mel prepared herself for the end.

And then behind her back there was a loud splintering noise oddly familiar to Mel’s ears. With a gasp she realised what it meant. Pex had broken down the door again and was standing posed in the doorway.

‘My name is Pex and–’

But he failed to finish. Firstly, there were Mel’s desperate screams for help to contend with. And then there was the sight of Tilda balefully staring at him, her intentions all too clearly written on her face. And the knife in her hand in the process of being raised to impale him against the door.

‘Oh no, now look–’ Pex gulped ineffectually as he realised what he had walked into. This was real danger. Not at all what he had had in mind. But again his sentence was cut short. Tilda viciously threw her knife at him. Pex only managed to duck just in time. And the knife whistled past his ear and stuck quivering in what was left of the door.

‘Help!’ Mel screamed again but Pex was too petrified to move. And now Tilda was moving back to the chute to pick up Tabby’s huge toasting fork to throw that at him. She grabbed it and started to take aim.

Pex gulped in horror and pointed behind her. To Tilda this was just a feeble ploy to break her concentration and she ignored him. But it was not a ploy at all. The claw that had so terrified Mel had reappeared from behind the flap and was snapping greedily at Tilda’s back.

The Rezzie drew back her arm to take aim at Pex. The sweat was running from his brow now. And then just as her arm was pulled back to its fullest extent, the claw pounced. Tilda overbalanced with a cry and was dragged in seconds into the unit and down the chute. The lights on the machine flashed ominously for a few moments. And then the unit juddered to a halt and all was quiet.

There was a pause. Neither Mel nor Pex moved. Until finally Pex came to his senses and started to help Mel disentangle herself from the Rezzies’ knitting.

‘You arrived just in time,’ Mel gasped as she struggled free at last, scarcely able to believe her luck.

‘Mel –’

‘Yes, Pex –’

Pex’s jaw was set and his features frozen in thought. When he spoke it was for once very tentatively. ‘Mel, does this mean that I’ve really helped save somebody from something? For the very first time.’

Mel grinned at him affectionately. ‘I think it might.’ It was the first time she had seen Pex smile.

The drilling was complete and the exhausted Caretaker ready to push in the door. The Deputy Chief stepped forward officiously.