Dr. Who - BBC New Series 28 by Beautiful Chaos # Gary Russell Page B
Authors: Beautiful Chaos # Gary Russell
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it like that…’ the Doctor started. ‘I
genuinely wondered—’
Sylvia ignored him. ‘Dad,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you take the Doctor up to the allotment, eh? Donna and I can catch up with Netty while you two have an hour or… a few hours up there, yes?’
Wilf took the hint and was all but dragging the Doctor out of the kitchen as the women watched.
The last thing the Doctor heard was ‘Tea, everyone’
from Sylvia, before Wilf had thrust them both out into the night air.
‘Allotment. This way,’ the old man said.
Babis Takis hoiked the largest bale of hay onto the back of the station wagon and stopped to rest. He wasn’t getting any younger, and this was really Nikos’s job.
But Nikos wasn’t here, he was probably around the back of the farm, messing with that Spiros girl. Typical.
There was work to be done – they had to get this consignment over to Faliraki, where so much building work was still going on. Hotels, apartments, shopping malls, everything the whole Dodecanese would benefit from because of the continued tourism it would bring.
Babis yelled out Nikos’s name a couple of times as he hauled up more bales of hay. He glanced at his watch. It would take an hour or so to drive across the island to the Petaloudes, where they would collect Kris, before going on to Lindos and along the coast to Faliraki. They’d drop off the hay at the depot, then it was off to Erik’s Taverna for the night.
Still no sign of Nikos.
With a sigh, Babis walked away from the station wagon. ‘I am an old man, Nikos,’ he called out. ‘I fought in the war, you know, so people like you could be independent and have your luxuries. Just once, it’d be nice if you could pull your weight.’
He had reached the rear of the farm, when he heard a noise from inside one of the stables – a short female gasp of surprise, almost fear. Certainly alarm.
Babis was inside the stable in a second.
Nikos was on the ground, holding his head in his hands, silent but clearly dazed.
Standing over him, a shovel in her hands was a pretty young girl, who Babis recognised as Katarina Spiros.
‘You all right, girl?’ Babis asked, reaching for the shovel.
Katarina swung around to face Nikos’s grandfather, and he realised how scared she looked. ‘What happened?’
Babis asked.
He was surprised when Katarina explained. ‘He took a call…’
She was pointing at Nikos Takis, who was now beginning to stand up, abandoning the cell phone on the ground by his foot. He looked at his grandfather, causing Babis to take an involuntary step back.
Babis Takis had fought in the latter days of the war as a youth, kicking the Nazis out of Crete and keeping Greece for the Greeks. He had faced the wrath and pain of his parents, who had so hated and eventually rejected him for falling in love, marrying and having children with one of the hated Italians who had occupied the Greek Islands for
seven hundred years before being sent packing after the war. He had done some time in prison for a barroom brawl in Diagoras, and he had once had to face the embittered son of a German he’d tied a live grenade to back in 1944.
But nothing had ever scared him as much as the look his grandson gave him right now.
Nikos wasn’t there any more. That carefree, funny, clever grandson he had nurtured after his father’s death was just not there.
Babis didn’t know how he knew that. He didn’t know how it had happened. But he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.
He was still sure of this when a flash of purple fire, hotter than the heart of a sun, extinguished his existence in less time than it took Katarina Spiros to draw breath to scream.
A second later, a handful of ashes dropped to the ground where the young girl had stood.
And Nikos Takis threw his arms towards the sky, purple electricity buzzing around his fingertips, as he threw back his head.
‘Welcome back,’ he yelled triumphantly.
Donnie and Portia were on their
genuinely wondered—’
Sylvia ignored him. ‘Dad,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you take the Doctor up to the allotment, eh? Donna and I can catch up with Netty while you two have an hour or… a few hours up there, yes?’
Wilf took the hint and was all but dragging the Doctor out of the kitchen as the women watched.
The last thing the Doctor heard was ‘Tea, everyone’
from Sylvia, before Wilf had thrust them both out into the night air.
‘Allotment. This way,’ the old man said.
Babis Takis hoiked the largest bale of hay onto the back of the station wagon and stopped to rest. He wasn’t getting any younger, and this was really Nikos’s job.
But Nikos wasn’t here, he was probably around the back of the farm, messing with that Spiros girl. Typical.
There was work to be done – they had to get this consignment over to Faliraki, where so much building work was still going on. Hotels, apartments, shopping malls, everything the whole Dodecanese would benefit from because of the continued tourism it would bring.
Babis yelled out Nikos’s name a couple of times as he hauled up more bales of hay. He glanced at his watch. It would take an hour or so to drive across the island to the Petaloudes, where they would collect Kris, before going on to Lindos and along the coast to Faliraki. They’d drop off the hay at the depot, then it was off to Erik’s Taverna for the night.
Still no sign of Nikos.
With a sigh, Babis walked away from the station wagon. ‘I am an old man, Nikos,’ he called out. ‘I fought in the war, you know, so people like you could be independent and have your luxuries. Just once, it’d be nice if you could pull your weight.’
He had reached the rear of the farm, when he heard a noise from inside one of the stables – a short female gasp of surprise, almost fear. Certainly alarm.
Babis was inside the stable in a second.
Nikos was on the ground, holding his head in his hands, silent but clearly dazed.
Standing over him, a shovel in her hands was a pretty young girl, who Babis recognised as Katarina Spiros.
‘You all right, girl?’ Babis asked, reaching for the shovel.
Katarina swung around to face Nikos’s grandfather, and he realised how scared she looked. ‘What happened?’
Babis asked.
He was surprised when Katarina explained. ‘He took a call…’
She was pointing at Nikos Takis, who was now beginning to stand up, abandoning the cell phone on the ground by his foot. He looked at his grandfather, causing Babis to take an involuntary step back.
Babis Takis had fought in the latter days of the war as a youth, kicking the Nazis out of Crete and keeping Greece for the Greeks. He had faced the wrath and pain of his parents, who had so hated and eventually rejected him for falling in love, marrying and having children with one of the hated Italians who had occupied the Greek Islands for
seven hundred years before being sent packing after the war. He had done some time in prison for a barroom brawl in Diagoras, and he had once had to face the embittered son of a German he’d tied a live grenade to back in 1944.
But nothing had ever scared him as much as the look his grandson gave him right now.
Nikos wasn’t there any more. That carefree, funny, clever grandson he had nurtured after his father’s death was just not there.
Babis didn’t know how he knew that. He didn’t know how it had happened. But he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.
He was still sure of this when a flash of purple fire, hotter than the heart of a sun, extinguished his existence in less time than it took Katarina Spiros to draw breath to scream.
A second later, a handful of ashes dropped to the ground where the young girl had stood.
And Nikos Takis threw his arms towards the sky, purple electricity buzzing around his fingertips, as he threw back his head.
‘Welcome back,’ he yelled triumphantly.
Donnie and Portia were on their
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