Copyright 2017
Amazon Edition
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Disclaimer: The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional. The author humbly begs your pardon. This is fiction, people.
HERE BEGINS A NEW LIFE
A Tardis Mystery
By
ALLIANA SMITH
Chapter 1
One
Dave took a deep breath as he reached to close Lucy’s door. The urge to tell her that he might have found her father was strong, but she had been out all day and was staying overnight at Beattie’s. He dropped his hand to his side, tilting his head back as he sighed. It was probably better this way. The things he had learned about her that afternoon had left him reeling. He needed to clear his head before he told her anything. He wasn’t even sure how he would tell her, not after the silent treatment she had been giving him since she’d sought refuge at her grandmother’s. The disconnection she felt began to rub off on him. All those years he’d regarded her as his daughter; he loved her just as much as he loved the other four children.
He had no idea what he’d do – what they’d do – when he told her about her father. The notion of breaking up the family even more made him lightheaded with terror. Anna was right. Lucy was a lot like her mother. If he lost her too, he knew it would break his heart. Again. But he had promised to find her real father, and he wanted to keep that promise. He didn’t want to give her cause for further grief.
It hurt, badly, when she’d accused him of not caring about her, of not loving her like he loved Evie and the boys. And all he’d been able to do was sit there and stare at her in disbelief, unable to say anything her, when what he wanted most was to pull her into his arms and hug her. The look in her eyes had been so hard and cold he’d been afraid of her.
Dave lifted his head and closed the door to Lucy’s room, as if the gesture were enough to bat away the cobwebs into which he had gotten hopelessly, helplessly, tangled.
This was no good, he couldn’t think like this, cooped up in the house that was full of memories of her and her mother. He needed to get out and clear his head. A ride on his bike was exactly what he needed. Pulling on his leather jacket, he skipped down the stairs, grabbed his keys and pulled the front door closed behind him.
Since it had clouded over at nightfall, it was very dark and the air carried the distinct smell of rain. Nevertheless, Dave opened the garage door and pushed the bike onto the gravel drive. Straddling the bike, he pulled on his helmet then reached down and turned the key. The engine turned over and purred to life with a satisfying thrum that grew to a roar as he turned into the street and accelerated. The temptation to feel all of its power was great, but he knew that this time he probably wouldn’t get away with speeding down the motorway. Still, the ride in the chill night-air worked its magic on him as he zoomed over the tarmac. It glowed orange in the illumination of the street-lights, looking almost like liquid fire. The beauty of it, the freedom of feeling the wind tear at him as he drove was something he’d never really been able to explain to Rita. She’d always been afraid of him having an accident one day, of one day learning of his death from the Headmaster.
But the Headmaster had told him that she had been killed in a road accident.
He had no idea how he could go on without her. The children kept him functioning to a degree but he felt like he was failing them, no matter what everybody kept telling him. Lucy didn’t want him any more and he had no idea what to do. Advice was heaped upon him but no one told him what to do. Rita would know what to do, she’d always known what Lucy was thinking. Their bond had been special, and now that it had been severed there was no one to anchor Lucy, nothing but the idea of finding her father.
Dave accelerated briefly to overtake a van, then changed lanes gain. The motorway was virtually empty at this time of night. Although he felt tired enough to sleep for a month he hadn’t been sleeping well. It was at night when he missed Rita most. It had been the time when they had shared their thoughts about the day, the children, when they had made plans and when they had made love. He missed her so much he sometimes felt unable to breathe. Sleep was elusive as he lay pondering the events of the day, and when he finally did fall asleep the annoying chirp of the awful alarm clock woke him what seemed to be only minutes later.
Rita had known Lucy’s father, of that he had been certain. And yet she had told everyone that Lucy was the product of a one-night stand. He could understand why she’d told Lucy that story. He didn’t dare imagine what might have happened when Lucy turned eighteen and found out that her mother, the most important person in her life, had lied to her, even if it was to protect her. What he could not understand was why she hadn’t toldhim. He’d always thought that Rita and he trusted each other. Finding out how involved Stuart had been in Lucy’s life had been surprising to say the least. But when Stuart had told Dave that he hadn’t known about him or Evie and the boys he had felt lightheaded with betrayal, anger and humiliation. How Rita could have done that to him he had no idea. He had trusted and loved her unconditionally, and she had used it to hide the truth from him.
Dave’s mind was reeling. He still couldn’t understand why she had done that to him, and the questions chased each other round and round in his head. The ride gave him time to think but it failed to give him the answers he needed. The truth was he would probably never get any answers. Over the years he’d learned to accept that Rita tended to keep things to herself. It must have made her very lonely, he supposed, and despite his disappointment and anger he felt sorry for her.
He was on his way back home, driving through the empty streets of suburbs and business districts. A light drizzle had begun to fall that made the orange glow of the street more lively, sparkly even. He slowed down as he approached a crossroads; the traffic lights were green but he approached them with great care nonetheless. Satisfied that he had the road to himself he drove on, beginning to feel a little calmer. There might not be any answers, and after what he had learned that afternoon, he wasn’t sure he even wanted them. He had found Lucy’s father, and that was that. He would replace the padlock on Rita’s tin box and stow it away safely, including the diary she’d kept before the accident.
Putting the past behind him, the past Rita had wanted buried, was the best he could do in the circumstances. Dave closed his eyes for the matter of a heartbeat in relief. It was an ever so brief gesture, an instant of closing and opening his eyes, but it was enough time for his life to change once again.
A thunderclap resounded through the ravine that was the empty street between abandoned buildings, followed by a blinding flash of light. He knew, at the moment it happened, that it could not be a thunderstorm. Startled, he braked, instinctively jerking the handlebars aroun
d a little, away from the blinding light. The light pulsed, once, twice, and as it was fading he saw that a body was hurled through the air as if in an explosion. There was, however, no debris and no fire, nothing to indicate that there had been an explosion of any kind. He braked and his bike skidded to a halt, nearly toppling with the force of the manoeuvre.
Breathing hard, he just sat for a few moments, his gloved fingers tight around the handlebars. He was shivering violently, thinking that this was how Rita had died, that that police car had not noticed her and hit her squarely, hurling her through the air and killing her almost instantly. The same could have happened right now, he could have run that person over, taking a life, destroying someone’s family, without having had a chance to avoid them.
He turned the key and the once reassuring purr of the engine died. What had he done?
Afraid of being sick, he unbuckled the chin strap of his helmet and tore it off his head, sucking in lungfuls of chilly, damp night air. He curled around his helmet as he leaned forward on his bike, rubbing the rough palms of his gloves over his face. What had just happened? He couldn’t possibly have hit that person, could he? He would have noticed the thump against his bike, would have fallen himself. But nothing like that had happened. The person lay still, in a crumpled heap, several metres away from him.
Sitting up, Dave tried to calm his breathing. He took off his gloves and put them on the saddle in front of him. Then, in the eerie silence that followed the thunderclap, he heard the soft moan. It roused him from his shock. The person was still alive.
He scrambled off his bike and rushed to the body lying on the ground. It was a woman. She lay prone, her blonde hair concealing her face. Part of her jacket and shirt had been torn away, how or why he had no idea, revealing burnt flesh on her right side and back. Hesitating at first, he took a deep breath, knelt and pushed her hair out of her face. The injury looked bad, and he needed to focus on her face, but he was terrified of what he’d find. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to look at injuries like that on a woman’s face. Somewhere at the back of his mind he knew that one didn’t suffer burns like these in a road accident. But neither had there been an explosion. What the hell had happened?
He bent low so he could look at her more closely. “Miss? Miss, can you hear me?” he asked softly, covering her right hand with his. It was unhurt and he felt safe to touch her. He tried to ignore the burns.
Thankfully, there were only a few cuts and scrapes on her face. Her full lips moved as if to speak, and her eyelids fluttered open. He held his breath as he watched her come to, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Can you hear me?” he asked again.
Her eyes locked with his. In the fiery glow of the street lights it was impossible to tell what colour they were, but he could tell that they were glassy with pain. They probably were really beautiful.
She whispered something, and he encouraged her to repeat what she’d said. “Doctor?” she managed to say after several attempts.
“No, no, I’m not a doctor,” he said, “but I’ll call an ambulance straight away. Don’t... don’t worry.” He sat up, never letting go of her hand, and dug for his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. He fumbled with it out so clumsily he nearly dropped it.
“Doc... Doctor. Not... not 999,” the young woman moaned.
“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.
She swallowed, mustering all her strength to speak to him. “My... my phone. Speed... dial. Three. Please? Doctor?”
“I have to call an ambulance.”
“No!” she moaned, and something in her tone, the desperation, made him pause. “Please.” She gave his fingers a barely noticeable squeeze.
Dave sighed, and, putting away his phone, he reached into her jacket pocket for hers. When he found it, he was torn between hoping that it hadn’t broken during the fall and that it had because he was sure it would save him a lot of trouble. CCTV cameras must have picked up the accident by now. It wouldn’t be too long before emergency services and the police arrived.
The phone still worked. “I’ve got it,” he said, taking the woman’s hand again. He needed to keep her conscious. He speed-dialled and waited for the call to connect. The screen had informed him that the recipient of the call was someone called Mickey.
“’s Mickey,” she moaned.
“Shh, don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Dave reassured her, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. He heard the dialling tone, twice, three times.
“Doctor,” she moaned again. “’s good. Don’t... don’t leave. Yeah?”
“I won’t, don’t worry.” She was someone’s daughter or mother or wife. He couldn’t leave her alone like this. There hadn’t been anyone for Rita when she’d died; it had happened too fast, which in a way had been a blessing. But he’d never had the chance to say goodbye to her.
He jumped slightly when the call was answered. “Hey, Rose. Where are you?” came a cheerful voice.
“Um. It’s... Dave Tiler, actually. I... I’ve got Rose’s phone. Am I speaking with Mickey?” he stammered.
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“There’s been an accident, and... and Rose, I suppose it is, Rose, she wanted me to call you instead of an ambulance. Which I’m going to do anyway. Call an ambulance,” he added.
The man’s voice was crisp when he replied. “Where are you?”
Dave looked around and found the street name. He gave it to Mickey. “How bad is it?” Mickey asked.
“She’s got some... some burns. They look pretty bad,” Dave managed to say, trying not to look at her injuries. “But she’s conscious.”
“Don’t call an ambulance. We’ll be with you in a few minutes,” Mickey said.
“But...”
“It’ll be fine. Just stay with her, yeah?” Mickey asked.
Stunned, Dave nodded.
“You still there?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Good, don’t call an ambulance.” Then the line went dead.
“They’re coming,” Dave said, hitting the disconnect button. “Rose?”
She moaned. “Yeah,” she said faintly.
Dave hesitated before he touched her hair and brushed it back, quite unnecessarily, and then he started to caress her reassuringly. He tried not to think too much about why they didn’t want an ambulance. Following sudden inspiration, he undid the fastenings of his jacket, took it off and draped it over Rose. He needed to keep her warm, it was the least he could do. He was reluctant to move her, not knowing if she had injured her spine. He cursed himself for not having thought of this earlier.
“Doctor?” Rose murmured.
“I’m here,” he said.
“You... sound... different.”
“Well.” She was obviously mistaking him for this doctor-person, probably because of the pain. Dave decided to play along; there wasn’t really anything else he could do. She seemed calmer now, and if playing along did the trick, so be it.
“’s nice. Like... Remember?” she asked.
He smiled. “Yeah.”
Rose sighed and her eyes fluttered shut. Dave froze, panicked. “Stay awake, Rose. Do you hear me?” He bent low again to look at her, drifting his fingers from her hair to her cheek to rouse her. His own cheek was nearly touching the rough tarmac.
“Hurts,” she moaned.
“I know,” he said, his heart breaking. He wished he could allow her to lose consciousness, but he was terrified. “It can’t be long now,” he said, more to reassure himself than her. He looked up and down the still empty and quiet street, hoping for Mickey to arrive soon. They were in a business district, so no one else had seen the accident. He still had no idea what had happened.
Eventually, Rose said, “Doctor?”
“Yeah?” He resumed stroking her cheek with more vigour. Anything to keep her awake.
“On... on the beach,” she said with difficulty. She was reliving a happy memory, and he hoped he wouldn’t damage it too much. She obv
iously needed him to share that memory with her, to speak for her. But of course that was quite impossible.
“Yeah?”
“I... I...” Her eyes fluttered shut as she lost consciousness after all.
“Rose? Rose!” Dave cried, patting her cheek gently to rouse her. Panic welled in him, and he cried her name again, trying to draw her out of unconsciousness. What if she collapsed and died before this Mickey person arrived? He would get into serious trouble because he was supposed to call the ambulance and the police, which he hadn’t. Cursing under his breath, he retrieved his own phone and tapped the shiny screen to dial.
He was just about to hit the connect button when he heard a car approach them at high speed, the tyres humming on the rough tarmac and the engine revving as it came to a standstill not far from them. He turned around and was blinded by the vehicle’s headlights. All he could see was that it was a huge, dark lump looming in the drizzle. Two men jumped out of the car, and as they did, another vehicle arrived. This one, he noticed, had the flashing lights and markings of an ambulance. Relief flooded through him. He cancelled the call.
Bigger on the inside: Space, Time Travel, Alien Criminals (A Space Time Travel Mystery Book 1) Page 1
