Doctor Who: Rags by Mick Lewis

Author:Mick Lewis [Lewis, Mick]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Science Fiction, Adventure, Doctor Who (Fictitious character), Punk rock musicians, Social conflict
ISBN: 9780563538264
Publisher: BBC Worldwide Americas
Published: 2001-03-04T10:00:00+00:00

Little Charmagne had already lost her mother to a traffic accident. she didn’t want to lose her father too.

So she skipped over the bridge, scanning the moor for any sign of the old man, and of course there was nothing but the crofter’s hut with its impenetrable windows smeared with cobwebs.

Daddy was inside. That’s where he was hiding. she swayed over 128

the bridge while the brook sang sweetly beneath her feet, and then she was across and traipsing up to the buckled wooden door.

Little Charmagne reached for the handle. She pulled it down and pushed the door open.

She saw her father sitting inside. The room was bare apart from the plain wooden table and the plain wooden chair, and cobwebs: So many cobwebs, like a witch’s lair. It was a fairy-tale cottage after all. Nothing there to tempt him inside. So why had he left her?

Why hadn’t he come back for one last look for her, like Flip the penguin’s mother in the storybook?

He was sitting with his old grey head slumped on his chest, one hand dangling down beside the chair, the other resting on the table.

It looked like he was asleep.

‘Why did you leave me, Daddy?’

Why did you leave me?

Little Charmagne stood in the crofter’s cottage and screamed at her dead father.

A world of time away, a clutch of years away, a handful of seconds away, twenty-five year-old Charmagne stood in the crofter’s hut in the middle of nowhere in the nightmare truck and screamed at her dead father.

‘WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?’

The dead old man in the chair lifted his head up to face his daughter. A length of cobweb stretched from his mouth to an empty plate on the table.

‘Heart attack, love. Didn’t they ever tell you?’ His voice was whispery and dry as if his throat were crammed like the hut with cobwebs. ‘I looked, but I couldn’t find you, and I was so tired, I had to play a game of hide-and-seek of my own.’

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