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Bigger on the inside: Space, Time Travel, Alien Criminals (A Space Time Travel Mystery Book 1)

Page 32

by Alianna Smith


  “We did a lumbar puncture to check for meningitis, but the result was inconclusive,” she continued.

  Dave looked at her in horror. Meningitis?

  “When we removed the bandage we discovered that there was no cut at all, not even a hint of a recent injury. Mr Tiler, is there a possibility that Paul… imagined the cut?” Dr Noble asked.

  “What? No! He… he cut himself in the park. I saw it. It was angry and red last night,” Dave said.

  Dr Noble nodded. “I have arranged for a consult, a colleague who’s an expert in cases like this.”

  “Cases like this? What kind of case is Paul?”

  “An interesting one. Dr Henley and I have decided to transfer Paul to a special facility where the diagnostic equipment is much better,” Dr Noble said. “If you agree to the transfer we can start straight away. We’ve only been waiting for you. I suggest that you go home and pack a few of his things before joining him.”

  Dave nodded numbly. “Of course.” He’d do anything for his children. “Where are you taking him?”

  “Torchwood Medical at the Priory.”

  Chapter 29

  Rose slipped her mobile into the pocket of her trousers. Dave had sounded so crushed when she’d told him that Friday lunch was not an option, and now she’d had to cancel coffee as well. She felt very bad, a feeling that was compounded by the fact that he had sounded more than a little distressed on the phone. She hoped it wasn’t anything bad. She’d have to ring him later to make sure that he was all right.

  Mickey had just popped in to let her know that they had a new case to work. It involved children, something which always made her more tense than usual. It was just a bit too close to home, now that she had a little brother; she usually had a hard time distinguishing between her job as a Torchwood agent and her job as a big sister. Tony trusted her and adored her — if one day she should fail him in any way she knew she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. Every child she worked with was like Tony in a way. Even Lucy, particularly Lucy, had taken a special place in her heart because she had to face adolescence without her mother.

  “What’s up?” she asked Mickey as she buckled the seat belt in the Torchwood SUV.

  “Dominic got a call from one of his friends at the Royal Infirmary who has a patient, a young boy, presenting unusual, contradictory symptoms. They tested him for meningitis and Dominic reckons it’s probably best if we pull in the boy’s siblings. Just to make sure,” Mickey explained as he pulled out of the Priory drive.

  “What does Dominic think?”

  “Nothing as of yet. The father has just given his consent for the boy to be transferred to ours, so we’ll have to see what it is all about. Hopefully nothing,” Mickey added. “I hate it when children are involved.”

  “You’re telling me,” Rose mumbled.

  “We’ll meet the father at the family home. Dominic’s friend has told him to go there to pick up a few things before going to the Priory,” Mickey said as he pulled into the traffic.

  “This is going to be bad,” Rose murmured, studying her hands in her lap. She had a bad feeling, a premonition, which was creating a hollow pit in her stomach. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but it upset her because she’d learned to trust her instincts and this felt different somehow. She tried not to let Mickey see, but she couldn’t keep from wanting to free herself from the safety belt and run.

  “Rose?” Mickey asked in concern, glancing at her sideways occasionally.

  “I’m… this is going to be bad.” She stared at the SatNav, her eyes following the blue arrow representing them on the map of Glasgow.

  “Rose, babe, what’s wrong?” Mickey asked, now more worried than ever. He stopped at a traffic light and looked at her, reaching across the gear box to cover her clenched fists with his hand.

  She looked at him, making no effort to hide her distress now.

  “Is it… some Bad Wolf thing?” Mickey asked.

  Rose turned her gaze inwards. Was it Bad Wolf? She hoped not, because if it was her rearing her terrifying head then heaven have mercy on them. She wanted it not to be Bad Wolf, she wanted it so badly.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t think so. But I’m having a powerful premonition.”

  Mickey sighed. “Sometimes you scare me. She scares me.”

  “You’re telling me,” Rose replied for the second time that day.

  “Well, let’s get this over with. Maybe your instinct is wrong,” Mickey said, trying to be cheerful. Only it didn’t really work.

  “Yeah.” Neither of them believed it.

  Hillingdon Drive, their destination, was in a nice residential area. Mickey parked the car at the kerb just outside the gravel drive of number five. The garden was well-kept, but Rose suspected that her Mum’s gardener would have something to say about it.

  “Well, here we go,” Mickey said quite unnecessarily.

  “How many kids are we talking about? And how old?” Rose asked, sliding out of the car. Focusing on the facts always helped her to keep the nerves at bay.

  “Two. A five year-old girl and a nine year-old boy. Evie and Ewan. There should be an au-pair with them,” Mickey said. He, too, took comfort in the facts.

  “Would you…?” Rose asked as they walked towards the front door. She preferred hiding behind his back when they had to knock on doors because people tended to be too surprised by her.

  “Sure,” Mickey said, stepping up to the glass door and knocking on it.

  The sister, Evie, answered the door. She was a cute little girl with huge, curious eyes behind her glasses. She looked up at Mickey, her smile fading a bit. When she glanced at Rose, her expression changed from recognition to surprise.

  “Hello,” Mickey said, crouching in front of her. “Are you Evie?”

  Evie looked from Rose to Mickey and nodded.

  “My name’s Mickey, and this is Rose.”

  “I know,” Evie said.

  “Is your au-pair in, Evie?” Mickey asked.

  “You have to wait here,” Evie said. “I can’t let you in.”

  “That’s okay, sweetheart,” Rose said, smiling. “We’ll wait.”

  As Evie closed the door Mickey climbed back to his feet. “This is going to be bad,” he said softly.

  Rose wished the kids’ father would arrive as soon as possible — he’d be a lot better at explaining what had happened to Paul than Mickey and she. They didn’t know the children at all and were bound to make mistakes. Rose had never felt as much out of her depth as she did right now.

  After a short while the door opened again. Rose was a bit surprised at the young woman’s hennaed dread locks, but the frown on her face soon demanded her full attention. “How can I help you?” Her English was accented, but Rose couldn’t tell yet where she was from.

  Mickey presented his ID. “I’m Mickey Smith and this is Rose Tyler. We’re with Torchwood Institute. May we come in? It’s about Paul. Morris.”

  She didn’t stop frowning. “I’ve never heard of you. Are you police?”

  “We’re not affiliated with them, but what we do includes policing in a way. We deal with paranormal activities and aliens,” Mickey explained.

  “What has Paul got to do with that?” the young woman asked.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Rose said. She was fairly certain now that her accent was German, but she needed to be sure.

  “Lottie.”

  “Aliens!?” A boy, Ewan, popped up behind Lottie, giving Mickey and her a once-over.

  “Können wir unter vier Augen reden, Lottie?” Rose asked, not wanting the boy to overhear what exactly it was that she had to discuss with the au-pair. Lottie’s eyes widened in surprise, but she was still reluctant to allow them in. Clever girl, Rose thought.

  “Wer sind Sie?” Lottie asked.

  Rose quickly explained about Torchwood again, then added, still in German, “Paul became seriously ill during choir practice. The doctors at the Royal Infirmary have no idea w
hat’s wrong with him so they’ve transferred him to our own clinic.”

  “Oh. Bitte, kommen Sie herein.” She stepped aside to let them enter.

  “What are you talking about?” Ewan demanded to know. “What’s this about aliens?”

  “I want you and Evie to go to your rooms, Ewan,” Lottie said, taking the boy by the shoulders and looking at him intently. “I’ll tell you everything afterwards, right?”

  Rose could see storm clouds gathering above the boy’s head, but Lottie was firm and so he took his little sister by the hand and they went upstairs, albeit a bit more noisily than necessary. Rose exhaled briefly.

  “He can be a handful,” Lottie said in English.

  “I’ve got a little brother,” Rose nodded, smiling.

  Lottie took them to the lounge, where she offered them a seat and something to drink. She disappeared briefly to get them a glass of water each — tea would take too much time. While she was gone, Rose glanced briefly around the room. The bookcase on the far wall caught her eye, and she couldn’t help taking a look at the books. Looking at books reassured her; things had gone smoothly so far, but she wasn’t fool enough to let that lull her into a false sense of security.

  Mickey was taking a look at the array of framed photographs lining the mantelpiece. “Rose, you’d better look at this.”

  She dropped her hand by her side; she had been trailing it over the spines of the books as a further anchor. When she joined Mickey at the fireplace, he held out a silver frame for her. She plucked it from his fingers, angling it so that the light didn’t reflect off the glass. Her breath hitched.

  It was a photo of Dave, laughing at something. It was a gorgeous snapshot of him, but her insides turned to ice.

  “What…?”

  “Excuse me?” Lottie’s voice made them turn around, the frame still clutched in Rose’s fingers. Lottie held out two glasses for them, frowning a little as she saw them studying the family portraits.

  “Who is this?” Mickey asked, gesturing at the frame.

  “Dave. Tiler. The kids’ dad.”

  “I thought you said the children’s name was Morris,” Rose said dumbly.

  “It is. Morris is their mother’s name,” Lottie said. “She died a few months back.”

  -:-

  Dave stomped down on the brake, narrowly avoiding a massive lorry.

  He let the driver’s curses wash over him, trying to regain his composure. It wouldn’t do to leave his bairns fatherless.

  It occurred to him that he had failed to ask Dr Noble how Paul actually was, or to see him. Shame made him close his eyes. He hadn’t even asked to see Paul. But neither had Dr Noble offered. Did that mean that Paul was in no shape to receive visitors?

  A honk brought him back to reality, and he engaged the clutch to continue on his way, feeling like a beginner again as he navigated Glasgow’s streets with the utmost caution. He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned into Hillingdon Drive. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a huge black SUV parked outside his house, but as soon as he pulled into the drive he had forgotten about it.

  How was he going to tell Ewan and Evie that their brother was seriously ill?

  He needed to call Lucy. And Anna and Robin. Particularly Robin. If this was some strange illness, he needed all the legal support he could get. And Rose. He had to tell Rose. She’d know what to do, how to help him through this.

  His worst fear, losing one of the children, had suddenly become real and not in the way he’d been expecting to with Lucy’s departure to Edinburgh.

  Shifting in his seat, he fished the phone out of his pocket and speed-dialled Rose.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Rose.”

  “Dave? Love?” she asked, her voice trembling. Why is it trembling?

  “Paul is sick.”

  Rose didn’t say anything.

  “Paul is sick.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “At home. On my way to… the Priory,” he added. And then he realised. The Priory. It’s where the National Heritage Trust was located. He hadn’t noticed Torchwood Medical when he’d been there to meet Rose’s colleagues.

  “I’m… I’m sorry.”

  He nodded.

  “Dave?”

  “I need you. Please. I can’t do this on my own. It’s… I’m so terrified of losing him.”

  “I’ll be there, don’t worry, Dave. I’ll be there.”

  He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You’ll be fine. Paul will be fine.”

  He wondered how she got the confidence to say these things. He wanted to believe her so much. “Aye.”

  “I love you, Dave. You know that, right?”

  “Aye. I love you too.”

  He ended the call.

  He got out of the car, suddenly realising how much time had passed. It was funny how wanting to be with Paul was at the same time the most important and the most terrifying thing in the world. He had no idea how he was. What was he supposed to pack? What did a boy need in hospital? He had been in hospital as a boy for an appendectomy, but he couldn’t remember any of the things his mother had brought him. Well, toiletries, obviously. His pyjamas. But what else? Socks? Underwear? His robe? What about personal things? Would he be able to read? Paul would take comfort from his Bible.

  Lost in thought, Dave hurried inside and stopped by the parlour to tell Lottie. Hopefully, Evie and Ewan weren’t there. As he was about to open the door, it was opened from the inside and out came Lottie. She looked flustered and worried, and she started and screamed when she nearly ran into him.

  “Lottie?”

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Dave. There are two people in the parlour. They’re from Torchwood,” she stammered.

  “Paul,” he said, feeling the colour drain from his face. So it was real. In the car he’d been wondering about Torchwood. Most of what he’d heard about them wasn’t exactly complimentary, no matter what they had done after the Battle at Canary Wharf. They fought aliens and had to do with all manner of fantastic things, half of which he didn’t believe. To him, Torchwood was a secret organisation that wasn’t to be trusted.

  “Yes. They want to take Evie and Ewan to the Priory. Just to make sure they’re all right as long as they don’t know what exactly Paul suffers from. It’s just a precaution. I’ll come, too, of course,” Lottie said.

  Although an icy fist had closed itself around his heart Dave smiled. “That’s very sweet of you. Would you do me a favour and pack a bag for Paul?” The idea of Ewan and Evie at Torchwood – even as a precaution – made him want to throw up. He forced the nausea down.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll tell Evie and Ewan,” he said when she was halfway up the stairs. She acknowledged him with an “Okay” before continuing on her way.

  Dave took a deep breath and entered the parlour, not knowing what to expect.

  “Oh,” was all he managed to say when he recognised Mickey. What is he doing here? And then he noticed Rose.

  “Hello, Dave,” she said, rising from his favourite corner of the sofa.

  He just stared at her.

  “Dominic is taking care of Paul. He’s an excellent doctor,” Rose said eventually.

  “You’re Torchwood. I should have guessed,” Dave said flatly. “So this… thing Paul has… Is it alien? Will it kill him?”

  “We don’t know yet. He’s just arrived at the Priory. We’ve come to pick you and the kids up. You might want to pack a bag for them too,” Mickey said.

  Dave tore his eyes away from Rose. “Are they ill as well?”

  “Hopefully not, but we thought that having them — and you — stay at the Priory would comfort Paul and reduce travelling,” Mickey explained.

  Dave nodded. That made sense. “Can Lottie come too?”

  “Of course, there’s room enough. We have… guest rooms for exactly that case,” Rose said.

  “Give me a few minutes, will you?” Dave said. “Help yourselves to
tea; you’ll find everything in the cabinet above the kettle.”

  “Thank you,” Rose said. The way she was smiling suggested that she thought he was more in need of a cuppa than Mickey or she. He couldn’t believe she was with Torchwood; that she was here, telling him about Paul’s… illness.

  He went upstairs to tell Evie and Ewan.

 

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