Free Doctor Who: Black Orchid by Terence Dudley Page B

someone your own age.’
    ‘You’re a bute dancer, Sir Robert,’ said Tegan pulling her head out of the path of the knight’s flailing locks. Sir Robert considered her remark for a step or two before concluding it to be a compliment, and replied with a twinkling smile, ‘That, surely, is a great hoot.’
    Tegan chuckled. The dance came to an end and she looked across the terrace to where the twins had come together once more with their respective partners. Sir Robert followed her look. ‘Miss Talbot and your friend are again impossible to tell apart. I wouldn’t like to swear which is which.’
    ‘There’s a way of telling,’ confided Tegan.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘It’s a secret.’
    The band opened up again with a lively tune and Sir Robert looked rueful. ‘I don’t think I can manage this one.’
    ‘The Charleston? Just watch me,’ suggested Tegan. She shook and twitched her way into the dance watched by an admiring Sir Robert. ‘Easy! See!’
    Don Quixote claimed one twin, leading her away across the terrace with convulsive knee jerks that threatened to dislocate his armour. Adric moved to the other twin, confident about her identity. ‘Enjoying yourself, Nyssa?’
    Ann looked at the boy, her eyes sparkling from behind her mask. ‘Nyssa? Can you be sure, Adric!’ Adric grinned.
    He was quite sure. Nyssa was playing with him. She had altered her voice so that the delivery was softer and her eyes were wider in a more docile look. But she wasn’t going to fool him. He nodded after the twin with the galvanic man from La Mancha. ‘You can’t do that.’
    ‘Can’t I?’ Ann swung into the dance effortlessly and Adric watched her nimble knees and kicking heels open-mouthed. He glanced away at the other twin to confirm that he wasn’t seeing double. No, the dancing of both girls was as alike as their appearance. Adric shook his head, both crestfallen and amused. ‘I give up,’ he said.
    ‘Don’t do that! Come on! You try!’ Ann shifted her weight from one leg to the other, her heels flying in time to the happy, catchy music.
    Adric summoned all his courage. With a gulp and a giggle he had a desperate go at copying the pattern of his partner’s busy feet. Ann clapped her hands in encouragement. ‘That’s it! That’s the way!’
    All at once a wave of happiness overcame Adric. He was doing it. Yes, he was doing it and felt wonderful!
     
    The Doctor considered the three doors along the wall of this new passage. More cupboards? He approached the first one across floor boards unrelieved by the drugget that had softened his footfalls earlier. He met what lay beyond the door with mild surprise.
    He looked at a small but very comfortable bed-sitting room. There was none of the imposing solemn grandeur of the important guest rooms he had seen. Here the furnishings were modern and cheerful. Underfoot was fitted green carpet of deep pile and good quality. There were books, flowers and a gramaphone. The Doctor carefully picked up one of the brittle 78 rpm records and glanced at the title which was Spanish. No, not Spanish, he reflected, Portugese.
    He returned to the passage and the next door in line.
    This room was similar. The same stark outline of the former but well-appointed, even luxurious. On a coathanger clipped over the open wardrobe door hung a short white coat. Clearly these rooms were currently occupied. What had once been hiding places for persecuted priests or hunted Royalists were in use again. Did they house modern fugitives?
    The Doctor’s troubled thoughts were further disturbed by the sound of distant voices. One, a woman’s, was getting nearer. The Doctor, acting on instinct, tucked himself out of sight behind the open wardrobe door. He’d had no right to penetrate the secret passages of Cranleigh Hall but his protean curiosity demanded satisfaction about the nature of any fugitives seeking sanctuary here.
    He had made his move only just in time. Someone had entered the room. He