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St Christophe
7th December 1783
Dear Mother,
I ran down to the beach. It was so cold and so quiet. Everyone stood there, like they were waiting for a game to start – all those grown-ups, all staring at each other;
There were the dancers, all of them frozen still in a circle around the Doctor, who was barely standing, held in place by the Elquitine sisters.
Standing over the crowd was Prince Boris, smiling, waiting, daring someone to say something. He looked so happy, which worried me. I did not care for him any more.
No one seemed to notice me. Apart from Amy who was mouthing, ‘Get back, kid’. But I stood where I was. I wanted to watch.
Amy was holding up Rory, who looked pretty bad. Poor monsieur, he looked so tired.
The sea washed in and out around them, glowing and whispering. I could start to hear words in the ocean, muttering and hissing, ‘Feed us, give us’ over and over.
It made me shudder, and I worried, Mother – I worried about all those times you came down here. What happened to you?
What happened NEXT was interesting. In the short time I’ve known the Doctor, I’ve seen him do many things. But I’ve never seen him plead.
He sank to his knees in front of Prince Boris. ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘You mustn’t let The Sea scan me. You can’t…’
Prince Boris smiled. ‘The Sea wants to know very much what’s in your head, Doctor. I must admit I’m curious… Already it is reaching out to you…’
The Doctor winced, sharply, like he had a terrible toothache.
Prince Boris’s smile grew wide with surprise. ‘Why… you have travelled so far… met such amazing people… and a box… such a magical box!’ He clapped his hands together. ‘These are just the things it can sense by tugging at the very frayed edges of your mind.’ He leaned closer to the Doctor, his beard almost scratching the Doctor’s nose. ‘It wants to know more. It wants to know what’s in the depths of your brain. I would let it devour you.’
Quietly, in a whisper that somehow carried across the beach, the Doctor said one word. ‘Don’t.’
Prince Boris laughed. ‘You’re a brilliantly funny man. You have a great sense of humour! I like that. I like that very much.’
Suddenly, seemingly without making an effort beyond a shrug, the Doctor was free, standing up. The Elquitine sisters stood back, baffled. Although Prince Boris was a little taller than the Doctor, somehow he stood eye-to-eye with him.
‘Don’t,’ repeated the Doctor, his voice loud and firm. It wasn’t a shout but it echoed off the rocks in a way that made me feel so happy. The Doctor was here. Everything would be all right. I noticed Amy and Rory hold hands. It was going to be fine.
The mists parted, drawing back from him, revealing the beach, the patients, Prince Boris looking troubled, and…
Oh, Mother, Dr Bloom was running across the beach. He stopped and stood there, panting heavily. He was crying, crying ever so much. To my amazement, I realised he was holding a GUN.
‘You!’ he shouted, his hand shaking so much the gun rattled. ‘You killed my wife!’
He pulled the trigger, the sound of the shot filling the beach.
The Doctor fell down, an ‘Oh’ of surprise perfectly matched by the bullet hole in his forehead.
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