Amy tugged the Doctor away from the receptionist before he embarrassed her further, to join Rory and Mark in the street outside.
‘Well, that’s that finished,’ said Rory as Amy placed a congratulatory arm around him.
‘Yes. Another one to tick off your list, Mr Whitaker.’
The Doctor squatted on the ground, opened his leather satchel and took out his automatic wibble-detector.
‘Except…’
‘Except-what?’ said Mark.
The Doctor held the device above his head, like someone trying to get a better phone signal. ‘I’m still getting wibbliness. You see that dial?’
Mark peered at the machine. ‘The one that isn’t actually moving?’
‘Yes. The fact that it isn’t actually moving means that the course of history is still in flux.’
‘But we delivered the guy’s wallet,’ protested Rory.
‘What else do we have to do?’
‘There’s nothing else in my letter,’ said Mark.
‘Then it must be something else,’ said the Doctor, waggling his fingers. ‘Something else that happened on this day. Something with lots of… what was the word, Rory?’
‘Ramifications?’ sighed Rory.
‘Ramifications! Yes. Something with lots of ramifications! So, Mark, what was it?’
‘You can’t expect him to remember,’ laughed Amy. ‘As far as he’s concerned it was, like, fifteen years ago!’
Mark ran a hand through his hair, smiling at a reawakened memory. ‘Oh no, I remember like it was yesterday.’
‘But it’s not yesterday. It’s today.’ The Doctor gripped Mark by the shoulders and looked directly into his eyes.
‘So tell me, after you recovered your wallet… what did you do next?’
Chapter
9
The disembodied heads of long-dead Roman Emperors lined the hallway, each one made of smooth, white marble.
‘And this one is,’ said Rebecca, reading the plaque beneath it. ‘Tiberius. On a scale of bonkersness from one to ten, he was about an eight.’ She continued down the Hall of Emperors, her footsteps clicking on the marble floor.
It was nearly closing time and the Capitoline Museum was deserted. Mark relaxed, breathing in the refreshingly cool air, scarcely able to believe they were here after all the traumas of the day.
When they’d finally made it to the hotel, the receptionist had greeted him with wide-eyed excitement, waving and shouting his name. She had his wallet and it still contained all his credit cards and money! According to the receptionist, it had been handed in by some ‘handsome stranger’. Mark thanked her effusively, promising her that when he got home he’d tell everyone he knew that Italians were the most honest people in the
world.
What it didn’t contain was any details about his hotel.
So how could they have known where to hand it in? Mark was too relieved to question his good fortune. He and Rebecca bought a celebratory pizza and resumed their tour, visiting the Colosseum, the ruins of the Roman Forum and the Palatine Hill, before climbing the steps to the Capitoline Hill. As they entered the museum, they persuaded a Korean tourist to take a photo of them beside Constantine’s Monty Python-esque foot before entering the palatial interior.
‘Weird,’ said Rebecca, interrupting Mark’s thoughts.
‘Don’t look very Roman, do they?’
Rebecca indicated six statues standing in a line against the wall. They were statues of angels, their arms crossed over their chests, their eyes staring worshipfully upwards.
With their robes and nest-of-vipers hair, they resembled the statue of a Wounded Amazon from the Great Hall. But their wings looked anachronistically Victorian.
‘What do the labels say?’ said Mark, giving each statue no more than a cursory glance.
‘There aren’t any,’ said Rebecca. ‘Guess they must be new.’
Young Mark and Rebecca inspected the statues for a few more moments before disappearing through the doorway at the far end of the hall.
‘Weeping Angels,’ sighed Rory.
Gesturing to Rory, Amy and Mark to stay crouched behind a bust of the Emperor Hadrian, the Doctor
approached the statues, holding his eyes open with his fingers, his steps not making a sound. ‘Yes. That proves it.’
‘Proves what?’ whispered Amy.
‘They’re waiting for a paradox to happen.’ Blue lightning crackled across the ornate ceiling.
‘What sort of paradox?’ shivered Rory. ‘I mean, caused by what?’
The Doctor turned to Mark. ‘When you were here before, did anything happen that was unusual in any way?
A stroke of fortune, a coincidence that set you down a particular path?’
Mark thought back. He remembered visiting the museum before, and seeing the Angel statues had jogged a memory of having seen them before, but after that, he couldn’t recall anything apart from the conversation he’d had with Rebecca on the balcony overlooking the Forum.
‘Nothing springs to mind,’ said Mark, then he slapped his cheek. ‘Oh! Except there was one thing. We got locked in.’
‘You got locked in?’ said the Doctor.
‘Er… Doctor,’ said Amy quietly. ‘You’re not looking at the Angels.’
‘I thought you were,’ said the Doctor. ‘Do I have to tell you to do everything?’
‘I am. Now.’ said Amy, staring, wide-eyed, in the direction of the statues. Mark followed her gaze. Three of the statues were caught in walking poses, heading for the doorway after young Mark and Rebecca. The other three had been frozen as they stalked towards the Doctor, their arms outstretched like sleepwalkers, their features calm
and blank.
‘They’re trying to get between us and the young Mark.’
The Doctor walked towards the Angels, beckoning to Amy, Rory, and Mark with a finger behind his back.
‘You keep an eye on the ones near us, I’ll keep an eye on the others,’ whispered Mark. With Amy and Rory treading silently behind him, he crept after the Doctor, keeping his eyes fixed on the Angels heading for the doorway, resisting the urge to turn towards the ones only a few metres away. Slowly but surely they made it past the statues to the doorway. The moment they were all through, the Doctor slammed the door shut behind them and secured it with his sonic screwdriver.
‘So, Doctor,’ said Rory with a sigh of relief. ‘What exactly is it we have to do?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said the Doctor with a wild-eyed grin.
‘We have to lock young Mark in!’
‘Five minutes, no more, OK?’ said the museum guard, barely sparing Mark and Rebecca a glance before he disappeared into the toilet with an urgent shuffle. They were in the underground tunnel that linked the two halves of the museum, and which led to the Tabularium, the ancient Roman record office. They wandered through a hall filled with altars and burial slabs into a rough-walled tunnel which opened onto a cloister overlooking the remains erf the Forum below, the toppled Corinthian columns, and, in the distance, the Colosseum. All bathed in the coppery glow of the setting sun.
Rebecca rushed over to the balcony, sighing in awe.
‘What a view!’ She turned to Mark and smiled. ‘I’m glad you came along in the end. This wouldn’t have been half as much fun without you.’
‘You call watching me panic for an hour fun?’
‘Well, entertaining,’ she smirked.
Mark snapped a photograph of the view. ‘Come on, we should be heading off.’
‘Let them chuck us out. I want to see what’s down here first.’ Several passages littered with temple fragments branched off from the cloister. Rebecca ran off to explore the first while Mark glanced back down the tunnel to the Tabularium. For a moment he thought he’d seen a movement in the corner of his eye, as though they were being followed, but there was nobody there.
‘That was close,’ whispered the Doctor. They all stood flat against the tunnel wall, as still as statues, the Docto
r and Mark on one side, Rory and Amy on the other. Rory could feel the clammy bumpiness of the stone wall against his back.
When the young Mark had slipped out of sight, the Doctor relaxed and stepped forward. ‘If your younger self sees us…’ He pulled a face to indicate an unspecified calamity.
They proceeded towards the narrow doorway that led to the cloister. ‘Is this it?’ asked Rory.
Mark nodded. ‘Yes, I remember, we were locked out on the balcony, just through here…’
‘Right, well, suppose we’d better get on with it then,’
said Rory, reaching for the heavy, iron door. ‘I would ask
how we’re supposed to lock it without the key, but—’
‘Sonic,’ said the Doctor, rotating his screwdriver in the air.
‘Yeah, always the sonic.’ Rory began to heave the door when an angry shout came from down the tunnel.
‘Hey, what you doing?’ The security guard waddled towards them, a tanned man in his fifties with a bushy moustache and the uniform of a much slimmer man.
‘That’s my job.’
‘Sorry, sorry,’ said the Doctor genially. ‘Just worried about security. Can’t be too careful.’ He swept his sonic screwdriver through the air as though trying to locate invisible thieves.
The security guard squinted at Mark. ‘I thought there was two of you?’
‘There were,’ said Amy perkily. ‘But now there are four of us. What of it?’
The guard snorted and heaved the door shut with a bang. He locked it with a set of heavy iron keys before turning to direct them down the tunnel with his thumb.
‘Closing time now. Way out is on right, you go up stairs, you go home, I go home, bye bye.’
‘Yes, excellent plan,’ said the Doctor, clapping his hands. ‘Well done. Thank you very much, you have been magnificent. Come on, Mark, Rory, Amy. Nothing more for us to do here…’
‘Well?’
Mark shook his head. ‘No. We’re locked in.’ The fingers in his right hand tingled, presumably the result of him
slamming his fist against on the door.
Rebecca regarded him with amusement. ‘Not really your day, is it?’
Mark didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On the flight out, he’d had this insane fantasy that something might happen between them on this holiday. That she might see him as something more than just a friend. But today she had only seen him at his worst, at his most irritable and incompetent. His one chance to impress her and he’d blown it.
‘I’m sure someone will find us,’ Rebecca reassured him.
‘There are worse places to be locked in. And worse people to be locked in with.’
‘That was it? That was all we had to do?’ said Amy, strutting after the Doctor.
‘I think so, yes.’ The Doctor checked his wibble-detector as they climbed the stairs into a gloomy hall lined with statues of mythical figures. ‘I’m losing wibbliness.
The future’s no longer in the balance.’
Mark noticed the tingle in his hand had started to fade.
He’d almost forgotten it was there.
‘Um, Doctor,’ said Rory warily. ‘If that’s the case, aren’t the Weeping Angels gonna be a bit cheesed off?’
‘Very,’ said the Doctor, as they passed down the hall, their footsteps echoing in the darkness. As the hall had no windows or skylight, the only illumination came from the electric lights. ‘So keep an eye out for them.’
Amy looked around, apprehensively studying each statue in turn. Of all the places for a statue to hide, it
would have to be a museum filled with statues. ‘But we’re safe, so long as we see them before they see us?’
‘You’re never safe where the Weeping Angels are concerned,’ muttered the Doctor darkly.
‘Behind us,’ cried Rory, pointing. The six Weeping Angels stood at the top of the stairs at the end of the hall.
All frozen in the process of lowering their hands from their faces.
‘Everyone look towards the Angels,’ said the Doctor.
‘Well be absolutely fine so long as…’
K-chunk! K-chunk!
The electric lights at the end of the hall flickered and went out. Rory yelped in surprise.
‘You had to say it, didn’t you?’ muttered Amy sharply to the Doctor. ‘You had to say it!’
K-chunk!
‘Keep moving,’ said the Doctor. ‘Just keep moving!’
Amy and the others slowly backed away as the lights in the middle of the hall went out. Now the only remaining lights were those behind them. In front of them, Amy could make out the sinister, shadowy shapes of the statues of centaurs and nymphs, knowing that somewhere in the blackness the Angels were lurking, waiting for the final set of lights to go out.
K-chunk!
The final set of lights went out. It was as if Amy had closed her eyes. Somebody grabbed her by the wrist and she gave a tiny scream, until she realised the hand belonged to Rory. A moment later she heard a high-pitched buzzing sound and the Doctor’s sonic lit up with a
green glow.
The Doctor swung the sonic ahead of him like a torch, revealing an Angel as it lunged out of the darkness towards them. The Doctor flashed the light to the left, to halt another Angel as it reached out with scratching fingers. And another, its mouth wide in a silent scream. He flitted the green light between the Angels, trying to hold them back, but each time he lit one up, it had taken another step towards them.
‘Amy, Rory, Mark! Move! Move!’ yelled the Doctor.
‘I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.’
‘What about you?’ cried Amy
‘I’d be extremely grateful if, on your way out, you could get someone to turn the lights back on.’
Amy felt Rory squeeze her hand and, together with Mark, they backed down the hall, watching the feeble green light as it darted back and forth between the enraged faces of the Angels. Then they reached the next room and broke into a run.
‘Sorry about all this.’
‘What are you apologising for?’ said Rebecca, still enchanted by the view. As the sun had set, the colour of the ruins had shifted from orange to a dusky red. The air smelt of ancient ruins and pine trees. ‘Besides, how many people get to see this? Luckiest thing, being locked in.’
‘It’s been a lucky day, overall,’ said Mark, joining Rebecca at the balcony. From here, there wasn’t a single modern structure in sight. No office blocks, no street lights, nothing.
‘Yeah,’ laughed Rebecca. ‘Must be fate.’
‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Go for it.’
‘All the stuff that’s happened today, anyone else would’ve been mad at me, but you… you were OK about it. Why?’
Rebecca swept back her hair while she considered her answer. ‘Seriously? The way I see it, after what happened with Anthony, I could’ve got all paranoid and bitter. But then he’d have won, he’d have changed me into a worse person. And after hearing you talk about all the stuff you’ve been through, with your dad and everything, it kind of put my woes into perspective. Life’s too short to be miserable, basically. If you can be happy, then be happy.’
‘Seize the day?’ said Mark.
‘Exactly. Seize it, baby.’ Rebecca turned towards him with an expression he’d seen once before, on the terrace of the students’ union.
His stomach trembling, Mark leaned forward and kissed her.
Rebecca responded, kissing his lips as he kissed hers, gently, precisely, before finally pulling away. ‘That’s not quite what I meant,’ she said.
‘No?’
‘No. But it’s a good start.’ Rebecca gave him a conspiratorial smile. ‘You know, we could very easily be locked in here all night…’
Back in the hall of statues, the Doctor was fighting a losing battle. No matter how rapidly he alternated the light
of the sonic screwdriver between the Angels, they continued their advance, their arms reaching forward, forcing him
to back away. And because the rest of the hall was in complete darkness, he had no way of knowing how long he had left before he backed himself into a wall.
‘OK, I’m getting that you’re not happy,’ said the Doctor placatingly. ‘But can’t we sit down and discuss this like reasonable people? Cup of tea, jammy dodgers, comfy chairs?’ The Angels did not respond. Their eyes remained blank. Their jaws remained open. ‘Look. I can—’
The Doctor slipped on the marble floor, lost his balance and landed heavily on his back. For a moment he found himself in total darkness, until he remembered he still had his sonic screwdriver in his hand. In one movement, he activated it and swung it upwards.
Its green glow illuminated the faces of the six Weeping Angels, all looking down at him with expressions of pure malice. They had him surrounded.
‘Ah now, you’ve made a mistake, you see,’ said the Doctor. ‘Because I can see all of you at once. So the question now is… which one of us will blink first?’
As they reached the museum entrance, Amy grabbed the security guard, the same guard who they’d spoken to in the tunnel. ‘You’ve got to turn the lights back on!’
He shrugged quizzically. ‘I did not turn out lights.’
‘Well somebody did!’ yelled Amy. ‘There’s still somebody in there. In the dark!’
The security guard snorted and walked slowly over to a switchboard. Rory and Mark caught up with Amy, Mark
red-faced with the exertion, Rory wearing his usual worried expression.
‘Hurry up!’ urged Amy.
The security guard made a ‘tch’ noise then flicked down a succession of switches. The hallway behind them flickered into yellow light.
‘Thank you,’ said Amy, muttering under her breath, ‘at last.’ With the security guard leading the way, they hurried back through the brightly lit museum.
Returning to the hall with the statues of mythical figures, they discovered the Doctor lying on the floor, the Weeping Angels encircling him, locked in position as they prepared to strike.
‘Doctor!’ Amy rushed over to him and helped him slide out from beneath the scrum of Weeping Angels.
‘I’ve been trying not to blink for the last minute,’ said the Doctor. ‘Harder than you’d think.’ While Rory and Mark kept a careful watch on the Angels, the Doctor brushed himself down, straightened his jacket and tie, and approached the security guard.
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