Doctor Who: Heroes and Monsters Collection by Penguin Books Ltd

Author:Penguin Books Ltd [Ltd, Penguin Books]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Time Travel, General
ISBN: 9781405926805
Google: VqTXCgAAQBAJ
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Penguin UK
Published: 2015-11-26T00:00:00+00:00

Best Friends

Mr Sutton, the overseer, had been in charge of the Clarendon Workhouse since 1895. Two years into the job and he reckoned he was doing well. He knew almost all the children by name. He recognised the voice of Anthony Bradshaw coming from the long dormitory. Why wasn’t the boy outside in the yard with the other kids?

Sutton’s boots clicked on the bare boards as he approached the bed where the boy was sitting, silent now. He looked like he’d been crying. Well, most of them cried – missing homes they no longer had, parents and friends who were long gone.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sutton asked. ‘Why aren’t you outside? And who were you talking to?’

The boy’s eyes caught the dusty sunlight as he looked up at Sutton. ‘No one,’ he answered.

‘Worked that out,’ Sutton said gently. ‘There’s no one else here. But you were talking.’

Anthony looked away. ‘I was talking to my friend,’ he said quietly. ‘My best friend. My best friend ever.’

The man was wearing a long, dark grey coat even though it was a warm evening. He cut an impressive figure – tall, self-assured, handsome and charming – as he ordered a glass of wine at the theatre bar.

‘Captain Jack Harkness,’ he told the young woman who was staring at him. He switched on a smile. ‘Can I get you something?’

‘I’m with my father,’ she said, apologetic and disappointed.

‘Maybe I can get you both something.’ Jack smiled again. Then he remembered why he was here, and the smile faded. ‘Another time maybe.’ He raised his glass to her. ‘I’m sort of on duty.’

Jack didn’t usually spend time at the music hall, but there was an act he was interested in. Professionally interested in. He had a private box to himself, and was stretched out comfortably across two chairs when the boy came on stage.

‘The Amazing Anthony – The Wonder of 1898,’ Jack read off the board at the side of the stage as he sat up and looked through a small pair of binoculars at the two people below.

The boy looked ill. He was maybe ten years old and his face was pale and drawn as he sat on an upright chair, not seeming to listen to the older man, who was doing the talking. Edward Hardiman claimed to be the boy’s uncle. He had thinning grey hair and a suit that had seen better days. But by all accounts the act was popular and gaining a lot of attention. Hardiman was explaining to the audience what Jack had already been told.

The boy – the Amazing Anthony – could foretell the future. He’d spoken of a coming war – a conflict in which hundreds of thousands would die. He’d said that in a hundred years machines would exist that could perform millions of calculations in a fraction of a second. It was a good act. Jack hoped it was an act.

‘A hundred guineas,’ Hardiman declared. He held up what might have been a wad of banknotes. ‘I say again, a hundred guineas to anyone who can ask Amazing Anthony a question he cannot answer.

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