Doctor Who - Torchwood - 01 - Another Life by Peter Anghelides

Author:Peter Anghelides [Anghelides, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Martians, Science Fiction, Mystery Fiction, Radio and Television Novels, Media Tie-In, Cardiff (Wales), Human-Alien Encounters - Wales - Cardiff, Intelligence Officers - Wales - Cardiff, Space Opera, Floods - Wales - Cardiff, Murder - Investigation - Wales - Cardiff, Crime
ISBN: 9780563486534
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2007-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

Ianto found it surprisingly difficult to close the front door. There was a gale blowing straight across the Bay, and that meant straight at the entrance to the Hub from Mermaid Quay. He put his shoulder to the edge nearest the frame and, after a bit more effort, he was able to get the door to click into place. He shot the bolts securely across the top and bottom, and leaned back against the door, exhausted.

Jack had breezed in, but so had several gallons of water, and the reception floor was awash. ‘We’re gonna need some sandbags out there, Ianto, if this rain keeps up.’

‘Yes, the neighbourhood’s gone to pot,’ said Ianto. ‘Maybe we should move.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Jack. ‘Imagine how many tea-chests we’d need to pack. That, plus we’d need to get the stationery reprinted.’ He shook himself like a wet dog, and rainwater spattered across the room. His trousers were soaked up to the knee, and he decided it would be a good idea to grasp the material and squeeze water out of the legs right there and then.

Ianto resisted the strong temptation to tut loudly. Instead, he plucked a handful of tissues from a box and mopped the worst of the splashes off the paperwork at the desk. He was able to rescue the flyers for the Redflight Barcud event at the Millennium Centre, but a pile of Tredegar House information leaflets was as good as ruined.

They had disguised the Bayside entrance to the Torchwood Hub as a Tourist Information Centre. And not a particularly salubrious one at that because, obviously, they didn’t want to encourage a steady stream of eager visitors asking for directions to the Pierhead Building or opening times for the Norwegian Church. Not that Ianto couldn’t answer those questions, of course. He prided himself on his arcane local knowledge, whether Cardiff indie bands or the history of Tiger Bay. Mostly, though, they only wanted to know the reason why the word ‘Brains’ was stencilled on a city centre chimney stack. This had all proved useful cover on an awkward occasion when a film crew from a BBC Wales travel programme wouldn’t take no for an answer when looking for an interview.

Ianto helped Jack out of his wet coat. ‘You’ve got a big hole in your sleeve,’ he said.

‘Nothing escapes your eagle eye.’

‘I see you’ve got a new watch, too.’

‘I’m trying it out. Though it’s an old watch. Antique.’

Ianto looked at it admiringly. ‘Very nice. Perhaps you should have one for casual and one for best.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Jack shucked off his sopping wet shoes and kicked them into the corner. ‘A guy with a watch knows what time it is. A guy with two watches is never sure.’ To Ianto’s dismay, he proceeded to peel off his socks and wring them out into the waste bin. ‘Are Tosh and Gwen back?’

‘Waiting for you downstairs,’ said Ianto.

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