Free Doctor Who: The Way Through the Woods by Una McCormack Page B

mentioned him before? Emily, you’ve got to tell me everything, you don’t know what’s important!’
    ‘Oh, shut up,’ said Emily miserably. ‘Sam? Where do you think he is? Sam’s dead.’
    ‘Dead?’ Desperately, Rory searched through his memories, but he only found empty spaces where this knowledge should have been. Could he forget someone’s death? What else had he forgotten? Who else had he forgotten? ‘When? What happened?’
    ‘More than a year ago, you fool! In the War. We should have been married by now. But Sammy’s dead and I’ve got myself lost in the woods…’ Emily stopped walking. She turned her back to Rory, but he could tell from her shoulders that she was crying. Awkwardly, he placed his hand against her back and, when she didn’t shake it off, he put his arm around her with more confidence, sure that this was the right thing to do.
    She wept for a little while into his shoulder, not noisily but very quietly, like this was something she had done a lot in private. As Rory held her, he felt the faintest echo of a memory – of someone he loved very much, that he would give eternity to be with – but before he could grab hold, the memory drifted sadly away like leaves in autumn. He hugged Emily even more.
    ‘Shush,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. It’ll be OK. It’ll be OK again, one day.’
    Eventually, Emily stopped crying. They hugged each other again for good measure. ‘Pals?’ said Emily.
    ‘Pals,’ said Rory.
    Emily dried her face and gave a rueful laugh. ‘Bet I look a right old mess,’ she said. ‘Stupid bloomin’ War. Ruins everything, don’t it? You can’t get a drink after half past nine, and you can’t get married to your sweetheart.’ She found a hankie in her pocket and blew her nose. ‘And there’s that wretched humming again. I’ll tell you something for nothing, Mr Williams – I know you said you were here to take away the engine because it was dead. But I wonder if you were right about that. Because this place doesn’t seem the least bit dead to me. The lights, the noise. It looks to me like it’s still in working order. Asleep, maybe, but not dead. Alive.’
England, now, shortly before one in the morning
    Galloway burst through the door of the interview room as if he were a thunderstorm howling through.
    He found his chief suspect standing right up by the window, one cheek pressed against the dark glass, a look of deep concentration on his jumbled-up face. Since their last conversation, the young man had apparently fixed the blind, which was raised up out of the way to allow him to get as close to the window as possible. The clock had not fared so well. It had been dismantled, and now lay in pieces on the table.
    ‘How?’ Galloway shouted. ‘How did you know?’
    The chief suspect flapped his hand. ‘Ssh! I’m trying to listen!’
    ‘ Listen ? Now look here, sonny, I’ve just about had enough of you!’
    ‘Sir!’ Porter grabbed Galloway’s arm, holding him back.
    Galloway got himself back under control. Pressing his hands flat against the table top, he said, in a much quieter voice, ‘How did you know that Jess Ashcroft was going to go missing? We’ve found her car, up by the woods. Do you have an accomplice? Is it the red-headed girl? You’ve been seen in the company of a red-headed girl, so was Jess. Is she your accomplice? Or is she another victim?’
    The young man looked round. He raised one finger, like he was about to issue a ticking-off. ‘You,’ he said, ‘are a very noisy man. Now listen!’
    ‘I’m trying to talk to you!’
    ‘And I’m trying to listen! Shush!’
    ‘But—’
    ‘Lips! Sealed! Now!’
    ‘Sir,’ Porter said quietly, ‘it can’t do any harm.’
    The three of them stood and listened, but all Galloway could hear was the steady pitter-patter of rain against the window. He felt like a fool. ‘There’s nothing,’ he said, impatiently. ‘Nothing at all.’
    ‘You can’t hear it?’ The young man frowned and