Mr Curtis

Memory lane

2009-06-03T10:47:00.001+01:00

Yesterday, I visited the place where I lived for the first six years of my life. With a sudden burst of decisive action, my lady and I made up our minds to see the first performance of I am Montana, at the Arcola theatre, Hackney. An easy trip. Peterborough to Huntingdon, Huntingdon to Royston then straight through on the A10 into London and the theatre. At the end of the straight run on the A10, the road turns left and curves around to join Lordship Lane, before continuing on to Bruce Grove and then on into London via Stamford Hill and Hackney. I turned right. It should have been easy. the road curves round and joins Lordship Lane a little closer to Wood Green, and by turning left, we should have been able to drive passed the house where my Gran lived with her sons and daughters. We got lost. Nothing looked the same. Road signs had changed; there were one way streets; and loads and loads of traffic. A little drive around some of the back streets found us back to where we started, and this time managed to find the right road. It only goes to show that you should never go back. From what I remember of Grans house, which was in fact a three bed roomed flat over a post office, it had always been clean and vibrant. Yesterday, it looked old and tired. I doubt whether I shall ever go back there again. For the house, the past was dead. It had its own memories; of a large family, when if you looked out of the front window you could see fields; of the war, and unexploded fire bombs coming through the roof and the visits of girl friends of the sons of the family; of Christmas diners, sitting around a large dining table and eating until I was sick; of seeing my first dead body when my Gran died. These of course are my memories, of my own experiences and stories that I was told. Now they are only held in my mind and perhaps my sisters an cousins, so they will endure a little longer, but the house will forget. Anyway after the slight disappointment of seeing part of my past falling into disrepair we continued on to the Arcola theatre. I didn't have the nerve to go and see the flat that I spent my first six years in. We found the theatre, and after some indecision about where we could park; it is always hard to know in a strange place weather you are going to find your car towed away or locked in a multi story car park for the night, as has happened to someone very close to me. I am Montana is a road story of discovery, guilt, and love, performed by four actors who were uniformly excellent. all of them have reached this state by hard work and avoiding the get famous quick rout that so many try on television. It is a play of words, where the simple set does not interfere with the action, but is actually part of the action. It was moving, funny, scary and thought provoking, very often, all at the same time. That we surprised Mark was a bonus. That we enjoyed the play, despite it story, which was very dark, just made the journey worth while. If that was the first night, I can't wait to see how much they can improve it by the last night. O yes! Going home was a lot easier than the journey down. Less traffic, and better signs.

2009-05-11T12:30:00.001+01:00

Check to see if email is working

2009-01-21T14:17:00.000Z

January 20th. No doubt to go down in the history books as Obama day. To any American readers of this mag, I hope it all turns out well for you, and he is able to fulfil all his promise. Forgive me if I take a more cynical view. Those of you, who have taken the trouble to read any of the rubbish I write, know my views on politicians, and even giving the new president the benefit of the doubt, he is, at the end of the day, a politician.

As a politician he is going to have to be pragmatic which means if he wants to be re-elected, he is going to have to follow the majority line, whish is going to leave a great many people disenchanted and let down. I hope it all turns out well for you, but I for one will not be holding my breath.

As you can see by the date I started to write this, we are half way through the first month of the New Year. Has any one noticed if it is different to the last months of the old year? Governments still play monopoly with our money, dishing it out to banks so that they can pay of their foreign debts. I have forgotten exactly how much Gordon and his merry men have given away so I am not totally sure if what my next statement says is going to be true, buy if it had been carried out every one in the country would be feeling a great deal better.

If you say that 60000000 people pay taxes in this country, (a guess), and if the government gave each of those tax payers £100000 that would work out as £6000000000000. Just think what we could do with our own money. Personal debts would be paid; we would all have spare cash in our pocket which we would be able to spend on what we wanted or needed; because of that, shop and factories would be supplying services and goods; there would be less unemployment and the treasury would have been able to retrieve its hand out by simply putting a couple of pence on income tax. The banks would be happy, (people in debt would have played them of so that there would be a surplus of money being returned to whence it came). The rest of us would be happy, having managed to dig ourselves out of the hole we had dug for ourselves. Business would be happy because we would literally be spending our way out of resection and keeping them in Business. Politicians would be happy, having given all of the taxpayers the means of getting themselves straight. A win- win situation all round you might agree, so does any one see a flaw in this simplistic answer to all our problems?

Of course, some people might simply sit on their windfall, putting it under a mattress or in some hidden cupboard under the stares; some might even spend it on foreign holidays and still remain in debt. Well if that is what they would do, they deserve to be in debt. For the rest of us I could see a return to a cash society, because how many of us would ever trust a bank again, when they have done exactly what the rest of us have done only on a much greater scale. It realy does make you wonder if the meek will inherit the world.

If we put politics and money matters aside what else have we to look forward to in the rest of this year?

I believe we have to remain optimistic; not easy if you are out of work with no income I know, but we have to keep trying. After all we aren't going to get help from any one else, are we?

Realy, the western world should put their troubles into perspective. Compare our situation with what is going on in the rest of the world. We do not have to carry our money around in a wheelbarrow as they do in Zimbabwe; we do not have to hide in cellars while some one try's to bomb us into submission; we are not yet at a point where we have to scavenge of rubbish tips; nor are we reduced to living in tents and living of turnips. We still have a lot to be thankful for, and even though I would be considered a miserable old git, I can still find little oases of peace and tranquillity.

One such was last week when I had a train ride to Ipswich to help raise the greenhouse that my lady wife and I gave to Emma Culture. (Every thing I tried to grow in it usually suffocated or died of dehydration, so it was better to pass it on to someone who will use it.) Thank god we took plenty of pictures when we took the green house down, otherwise we would be still scratching our heads trying to work out how it all fitted together.

It only took us 5 hours in the bone crunching cold to putt all the pieces in the right place, and tighten all the nuts. So the frame now stands in the Cultures garden, waiting for the glass to be put in. That is the next project. The glass is still here in Peterborough.

It took almost as long to thaw out, but it didn't matter. There is nothing more satisfying than starting a job and seeing it finished.

Staying with my daughter was a pleasure as was the train journey from Peterborough to Ipswich. I had taken the precaution of only using one suitcase, thus leaving my hands free for carrying my ticket in my glove. The suitcase also had the advantage of being able to be pulled along behind me, and believe me when I say that climbing the hill next to the station, that facility was a godsend, particularly on the last 15 meters. For that help alone, I could put up with any amount of teasing from my lady wife about men pulling cases behind them look a little twee.

I don't care! If I have any resolution for the New Year, it is to make life easier for my loved ones and myself. So I have started with the accumulated bits of paper that date back to the Stone Age, and have slowly filled every draw, cupboard, loft and garage. Why, O why do we collect so much rubbish?

Memories! I suppose! Trying to clear out the loft you come across old photos, and the detritus of bygone days. You might not remember the dates; you may not even remember when that particular item came into your possession, but you do remember the picture or the object and are carried back in time. Sometimes you may wonder why you ever kept a particular photo, (most photos that we take are far from works of art,); we may wonder what ever possessed you to buy such a hideous object, and you spend time wondering where it actually fitted in with your past surroundings. What should have been a quick job, has suddenly stretched it's self out to become a major task that is quite likely to take weeks rather than an afternoon. No wonder we creep away and leave the task undone.

Of course, there are times when, with a total disregard for sentiment, object are thrown out wily-nilly, only for it to come to light a week later that we suddenly have a use for it.

All this just to say that although I do not make New Year resolutions, it is a good idea to have projects, that have a beginning and an end. To actually have something to show for your labours, is very satisfying and improves your own opinion of yourself.

If any of you read my blog you will see that it was not posted on the 20^th. Any one who reads Beat Motel will probably find additional material, (I have no idea when Andrew Culture is going to publish the next edition). So for now I am signing off, with the certain knowledge that there is more to come.

2009-01-21T14:13:00.001Z

A Christmas story

2008-12-02T11:24:00.001Z

I have been playing with this idea. Comments are welcome.

Doctor Who Christmas Mystery

David Stone lay in the middle of the lawn of his hated foster parents garden. He was counting stars, and trying to remember the words of the Disney song, 'When you wish upon a star makes no difference who you are.' It was there that he lost the rest of the song. All that he could remember was that if you did that all your dreams would come true, and for your substitute me, and it becomes, 'my dreams come true.'

David hated where he was and whom he was with. He wanted to be at home with his mother and father, sitting by his own Christmas tree, and opening presents that his parents had given him. He did not want to be with a family that had strangers around, and played silly games and listened to loud music, while they drank large glasses of wine.

'When you wish upon a star.' It was no good wishing for his father to be at home. He was in prison, for a crime that David was convinced he was innocent. He had not seen him for five years, and was unlikely to see him for another thirty years. If the country had been at war, it was quite likely that his father would have been executed, so he should count his blessings. Unfortunately, David could not see it that way. Five years was a long time for a ten year old to look back on, and to look forward thirty years was unimaginable.

His mother had for the five years that his father had been in prison, tried her best to keep David from the public gaze, but in doing so, her health had become a matter of concern, and she had been taken to a care home that dealt with mental health problems.

That had been in November. Since then he had lived with a family that social services considered to be best qualified to look after him. David might not have realised it, but the family were concerned about his welfare. He might not have noticed, but every so often, a face would look out of the living room window that over looked the garden, to check that he was all right. They had decided to let the strange young boy settle in at his own pace. They knew that he did not want to be with them, but given time, well who knows.

The fact that he was laying on his back on their lawn at the end of December might have caused some concern, if the weather had not been so completely unseasonable. It had been the warmest December on record; so warm in fact, that even at night people walked around in light jackets. So the lawn was dry and unlikely to cause the boy any harm.

David, who had no idea that he was living through the hottest December ever recorded, and cared less, just lay on his back and wished on the stars. No one had ever told him to be careful, what you wished for. All that he knew was that he wanted to be with his parents.

Suddenly, there was the sound of screeching metal, and the sense of something large and powerful trying to make its presence felt. The stars that he was looking at became obscured by a large blue box, with police written around the top.

David did not like the police. They had locked his dad up, and as he had heard someone say, thrown away the key. So he was not too impressed when a door opened and a young man stepped through it onto the lawn.

He seemed to be an ordinary man, dressed in a pinstriped suit, and wearing an overcoat that came down to his knees. His tie was a little crooked, as if it had just been pulled over his head already knotted, and not put straight. The trainers that he wore seemed to be a little out of place to the rest of his cloths, but looking from were David lay, seemed to fit in with the look of wonder on his face.

On giving the man a second look, David decided that he was not young. Something in the eyes seemed to show many lifetimes of experience, that had never been anything less than interesting, even though they had seen great sorrow, and when he sniffed the air and took from his pocket a small tube that glowed, it was clear that he had had great joy in his life.

He looked at the tube; shook it, and looked again.

'No this is not right.' he said, 'not right at all.'

He moved away from the blue box, rechecked the small tube, and shook his head.

'If this is December, then there is something definably wrong.'

All the time the man was doing this David lay quite still. The man, although he looked human, had an unworldly aura around him that was defiantly not human. That thought seemed to galvanise David into sitting up. After all, he thought if the blue box was a space ship, it wasn't all that impressive, and anyway, how could his life become any worse than it already was.

By sitting up, David had caught the eye of the alien man, who looked surprised that he was not alone.

'Hello.'

'Lo.' David was a little of hand, and did not want to seem too interested in what the strange man was doing.

'Hello. I didn't see you sitting there. Tell me what month are we in?'

'December.'

'December! Of course we are. Warm isn't it?' He looked down the garden towards the house. 'There seems to be a party going on. I love parties. Don't get to go to too many these days. Why are you out here, instead of enjoying the company of your friends?'

'Don't have any friends.'

'Course you do. Every one has friends, particularly at Christmas.'

'I don't.

The man looked surprised. 'That's a shame. Still, must get on.'

He turned away as if he was about to re-enter the blue box, when David stood up and followed him.

'Is that a space ship?'

'No. Well sort of.'

'It's not very big.'

'It's big enough for me?'

'How do you sleep? Standing up?'

The man seemed taken aback. 'No. When I sleep I lay down. Just like anybody else. We don't all hang from the roof.'

' Do aliens sleep hanging from the roof?'

'Some do. Most are just like you. Some though,' he paused, as if a great sadness had come over him, 'some though never sleep until they die.'

'What are you doing?'

Despite himself, David was becoming quite interested in what the alien man was up to. It was the kind of diversion that any young boy, with an active imagination, could identify with, and by becoming involved with what the man was doing, might get to see inside the curious space ship.

'I'm trying to find out why it is so hot in December.'

'Every one says it's global warming.'

'Yes. Maybe. But not this quick! Global warming should take years, not months, and any way, this planet is not due to become uninhabitable for another five millennia.'

'Can you see into the future then?

David was beginning to get the measure of the man, and felt that as he did not seem to offer any ill will to him, it was all right to be just a little cheeky. After all, there was a house full of people, just a call away.

'No'. There was a confused pause. 'Not exactly! It's rather complicated.'

'Tell me then.'

The man looked amused as he looked at the young boy, trying so hard to be rude with out being able to quite carry it of.

'Why? Who are you?'

'Who are you?'

'I'm The Doctor. How do you do?'

The Doctor held out his hand, and David found that he was taking it and saying, 'I'm David. David Stone.'

By telling the Doctor his name, David felt as if he was defying him to make an adverse comment. He was after all, the son of a terrorist, a man who had been sentenced to an eternity of imprisonment, for a crime that had appalled the whole country.

The Doctor, who had no idea why David should be so defiant, smiled and said, 'Hello David Stone.'

He paused again to consider what to tell the young boy.

'I do not see into the future. I visit it.'

If he had expected the boy to be overawed, shocked or disbelieving he would have had a ready answer. But the boy showed none of these reactions. Instead he laughed, and pointed to the blue box.

'In that thing?'

'In that thing!' The Doctor was insulted. 'In that thing! You can't call the TARDIS a thing.'

That someone should belittle his last contact with his home world, without knowing what the Tardis was, seemed to the Doctor, the height of bad manners, and that opinion was not helped by the incredulous look of scorn that passed across the boys face.

'You have given your wooden space ship a name.'

'Yes. No! It's not a name. It's what it is. TARDIS, time and relative dimensions in space; T.A.R.D.I.S. Tardis.'

'O.K. Show me then.' and with out waiting for the Doctor to open the door to the small blue box, David entered the Tardis.

The Doctor was very particular about who he invited into his home. Companions, friends and some times an enemy, had accompanied him, and all of them had been asked to share a part of his life. They had stayed with him until they found something that was better, or until they died. Scattered through time and space, these companions had made a life for themselves, that did not involve travel, and although that life might seem less exciting with out the Doctor, it had been achieved with the mutual understanding of all parties.

One thing was clear. People could leave when ever they wanted, but no one had ever entered the Tardis with out being invited, well perhaps one did, but he was a time lord and didn't realy count.

That the boy could open the door and pass through into the Tardis was a wonder to the Doctor. Something was defiantly not right.

The Doctor stood back a waited for the expected sound of terror, mixed with wonder, when the inside of the Tardis was revealed, but non-came. Instead there was a deathly silence that panicked the Doctor into rushing into his home, with thoughts of young boys fainting with surprise at the difference between the outside and the interior of the Tardis.

What the Doctor found was David, looking unimpressed at the organic looking chamber that was the heart of the Tardis. In truth, he was finding it hard to keep his jaw from dropping, and his eyes from popping out of his head.

The inside of the Tardis looked organic, but was obviously far from that. The central column hummed as if it was alive, yet nothing alive could have given of the aura of power that the transparent tube contained. It was as if all the power in the universe was contained within it, and suddenly, to David, anything was possible. He turned to the Doctor and smiled.

'Can you realy travel through time?'

Again, the Doctor was wrong footed by the child, and to give him self more time to think things through, answered, 'Yes'.

'Forwards and backwards?'

'And sideways and up and down through 360 degrees! All directions, no limit!'

'Can you take me back in time?'

'I could, but why should I?'

'I want to save my dad.'

David, for the first time since the Doctor had found him lying on the grass, had become animated. If he could go back in time, perhaps he could stop his father doing what he had been accused of. Every thing would be different, and he would be at home with both his parents. He was so excited by the thought that he failed to see the look of sadness that passed across the Doctors face.

The Doctor had been in this situation before. Companions wanting to change the past, so that there present could be better. It wasn't possible, so he was gearing himself up to explain to a ten year old boy, that the past was set, and nothing could be done to change it. He watched the boy as he rushed around the central column of the Tardis; watched him as he peered into screens; watched him as he looked at the dials and levers that the Doctor used to control the last piece of the Time Lords technology; watched as the boy slowly realised that the Doctor was standing silent and very still, with his back to the open door.

David stopped his exploration and gazed at the Doctor. A terrible fear had come over him. Perhaps the Doctor had lied.

'You did say that this is a time machine?

'Yes'

'And you could take me back in time, to save my dad?'

'No'. It pained the Doctor to give a flat refusal, particularly to some one who, in his mind, wanted so little, but which could cause untold problems to the whole world; maybe even to the whole space time continuum.

'Why not? You said this was a time machine. Why can't you take me back to save my dad?

'I can't alter the past, and neither can you. To do so would be to change every thing, including the world outside, and there is never any guarantee that it would be for the better, either for you or for the world.'

'This pile of junk can't do it, can it? All that you said was a lie? You can't travel in time at all.'

'Yes I can, but I can't, I wont change the past for a young boy who has little understanding of what would be involved. It's just not possible.'

It was as if the Doctor had physically hit him. David face crumbled as if he was about to cry. He had wished so hard for things to be different, and just as it started to look that his wish might be granted, to be told that it was not, was almost to much to bear.

'And any way, what if your father was guilty as charged, how would you feel then?

'He isn't guilty.'

'But what if you found out that he was?'

'He is still my dad.'

The Doctor turned and closed the door of the Tardis, then walked back to the control consul.

'All right! I will take you back, but remember I will do nothing to change the past.'

The Doctor pulled levers, pressed buttons, until the central column started to move.

'By the way, how far back have I to take you?'

'He went to prison five years ago, but the crime he was accused of was six years ago.'

' And what was this terrible crime he was supposed to have committed?

'He tried to blow up Sizewell power station. They said that if he had succeeded, millions would have died. He was called a terrorist and because of what might have happened, he was given a life sentence, with no chance of leaving prison in less than thirty years.'

The Doctor with a look of surprise studied the boy to see if he was joking.

'You can't just blow up a Nuclear power station. There are to many safe guards. It's just not possible.'

'Well the authorities said he could, and they put him in prison because of it.'

The Doctor set another dial. The sound of the engines changed then suddenly stopped, as if they had run into a brick wall.

'Hear we are then. Lets go and see what is happening on the Suffolk coast.'

With that he opened the door of the Tardis and stepped outside. David followed, not quite sure of what he might see, and was rather disappointed to find that he was standing outside a post office on the corner of a road, in what could have been seen in any town in the country. The fact that the Tardis had actually moved from his foster parents garden, in the middle of the night, and now stood in broad daylight at the corner of a busy street, escaped him. He wanted to go back in time, and this place looked like any other place that he had seen in his own time.

'Before you ask, we are in Leiston, and I am going to see if I can find a library which carries editions of the local paper, so I can find out what has been going on.'

The traffic, although not heavy was steady. To cross the road, a gap had to be found between the cars approaching the corner. The Doctor, with out appearing to look, stepped of the kerb and walked straight across the road. It was like Moses crossing the red sea, David thought. A lull in the traffic that came from nowhere, aloud him to pass between the stationary traffic waiting to turn the corner of the junction, and traffic approaching the junction. David, remembering his highway code, stopped; looked right; looked left; looked right again, put his head down and ran to catch up with the Doctor, much to the disgust of motorists who had to break suddenly, and let irritation show with a cacophony of blasts from their horns.

Once across the road the Doctor set of in the direction of the shops, which were signposted and David, reluctantly followed.

It did not take long to find the library. The Doctor appeared to have some sixth sense that directed him to where he wanted to go. On entering the library he made straight for the newspaper stand, and started to scan the headlines, until after a little time he replaced the papers and shook his head.

'No this is defiantly far from right!'

David who had watched in silence while the Doctor was reading became impatient.

'I thought you were going to go back in time.'

'We have. Five years. You are being looked after by a local authority care home for young people. See,' he held up one of the papers that he was restacking and showed David the date, 'you were being kept out of the public gaze. Only your mother attended the trial.'

The Doctor finished restacking the papers and headed for the door, taking from his pocket the thin tube that David had seen him with in the garden of his foster parents. He shook it; looked at it; shook it again and the shook his head.

'Come on, we are going.' And with that he set of a quick pace back to where he had left the Tardis. Once David was back inside the Doctor closed the doors, threw a switch; the engines started and stopped almost as soon as they had started, and once again the Doctor was moving fast with a purpose that David could not fathom. This time, when David followed him outside the Tardis, he found that he was standing by the giant golf ball that made up the Sizewell power station.

The Doctor took David by the arm, and held out a piece of paper. 'Carry this all the time, and think of it as a pass, and that you are my son. Should any one ask I have had to bring you to work as your mother has been taken to hospital. I am Dr Smith and you are David Smith. I am carrying out a surprise inspection of these facilities. Never lie, and what ever you do, if you should bump into your father, do not let him know your real name.'

David, who was beginning to become used to the Doctors eccentricities, was not surprised to see that the paper he had been given was blank. He was tempted to ask what it was but refrained from doing so by the Doctor setting of in the direction of the control room. Instead, he dutifully put the blank piece of paper in his pocket and followed the Doctor.

The control room was the hub of the power station. Every thing that happened within Sizewell was controlled and monitored from that large room, by the silent men who sat at desks and watched computer displays and dials that showed what was going on deep within the core of the reactor.

At one end of the room was the desk of the chief supervisor, who could with a flick of a switch monitor every other desk, and over ride what the other controllers were doing. None of those controllers took any notice of the Doctor or David when they entered the room.

It is said that air traffic controllers have the most distressing job, but the controllers at Sizewell might disagree. After all, air traffic control was only making sure that five, six, maybe seven hundred people did not die in an accident; the Sizewell controllers were making sure that millions did not die.

The Doctor walked around the control room, with the confidence of a man who was where he was supposed to be. Occasionally he would put on a pair of glasses that had seen better days and lean across one of the desks to look more closely at one of the screens. He would then stand back, nod his head and then go to look at another desk, with its array of electronic monitors. Every thing was silent, so much so that if the men and women, sitting at their desks hadn't moved when they used their hands; they might just have been taken for dead.

The control room's air conditioning did not seem to be working. There seemed to be a thin green mist hovering, just below the false ceiling, which moved without the benefit of air circulation, and as the Doctor moved from desk to desk, tiny clouds followed him.

David, in the mean time, had discovered his father's desk. Frank Stone was not quite how David remembered him. To the four-year-old David, Frank had been a tall, fair-haired man with blue eyes that twinkled when he had been home at the same time that David was still up and about.

The man that David watched appeared to be a little shorter than he remembered, and the eyes, far from twinkling, had an earnest look of concentration, as he watched his screens and from time to time made little adjustments with the instruments at hand.

The Doctor, from across the room saw what David was doing, and although he sympathised with what the boy so desperately wanted to do, walked over to him and whispered in his ear, 'Don't even think about it.'

It was enough to cause David to have some resentment towards the Doctor, but he knew that if he so much as spoke to his father, the Doctor was very likely to take him straight back to his foster parents.

The supervisor, who had been talking to one of the controllers at the other end of the control room, noticed, for the first time, that he, had strangers in his domain. He stopped what he was doing and with out seeming to rush approached the Doctor with a very questioning look on his face.

'Who are you and what are you doing in my control room?'

The question was politely asked but had all the authority of some one who knew that it was backed up by all the power that his position gave him. When the Doctor handed over a blank piece of paper, similar to piece that he had given David, the boy thought that was going to bring down retribution that would see them in prison before the day was out. Imagine his surprise when the supervisor said, 'But we only had an inspection two weeks ago.'

'Yes. Well the ministry like to keep people on their toes. To be honest with you I would have been more than happy to have passed this assignment on to someone else. You see the boy's mother has had to go into hospital and I was the only person available to do this surprise visit. Every one else has gone down with a virus.'

He paused and then gave a very wining smile.

'Amazing, isn't it, they can find someone to issue a pass for the boy but can't find any one to do a rush job like this. David show,' the Doctor peered closely at the identity card that hung from the supervisors neck, 'Mr Goodhall your pass.'

David, swallowing the panic that was beginning to build up inside him, handed over the blank piece of paper that the Doctor had given him.

Mr Goodhall, took it and read it then smiling handed it back to the young child. It was the kind of smile that had all the hallmarks of a good public relations course, that he had attended that said you must be polite and welcoming to the general public, whenever you came into contact with them, no matter what kind of burden they were putting on you.

'You are very welcome, young man. I hope you learn something from your visit.' He turned to The Doctor. 'I hope every thing is satisfactory.'

'O yes! Every thing is in order. Dials all set at the right places; monitors locked on to the reactor; every one at their desks and the station generating all that power. A very well run centre of excellence! You have a very well oiled machine that works perfectly. You should be congratulated.'

David thought the Doctor was going a bit to far with his praise, but Mr Goohall seemed to be glowing as the praise built up, until he was positively incandescent with pride.

'Well, if you had arrived a half hour latter, you would have found some empty desks.' He smiled. 'Its nearly time for a tea break.'

'Tea break! That's what I was missing. We had to set of so early we missed our breakfast.'

'We have an excellent restaurant. I 'l find someone to take you.' He looked around for a guide and his eyes fell on Frank Stone. 'Frank, take an early break and show Dr Smith and his son to the restaurant.'

'Certainly Mr Goodhall'

They were the first words that David had heard his father speak, in six years, and he was disappointed. He remembered a voice full of laughter that matched his constantly twinkling eyes. The voice that he now listened to matched the dull almost grey eyes that seemed to carry the burden of the whole world behind them. When he stood up and leaned across his desk to log himself out of the computer that he was in charge of, to David's eyes, he seemed like an old man, not at all like the young, vibrant man of his memory.

Frank Stone seemed to shuffle, instead of walking as he led the Doctor and David out of the control room. In trying to be friendly his voice came over as a dull sound, as if it had been programmed on a computer. David was terrified! Something was wrong with his father, and he was beginning to have a very definitely feeling that just possibly Frank Stone might have been guilty of what he had been accused of.

The Doctor, who had been watching the boy and his reactions to his father, had had the same idea and was finding it difficult to find a way to ease the pain that would inevitably cause the boy great distress.

Some thing would turn up, it always did, but it might not be of any use to the boy.

Something did turn up. There was a sudden eureka moment that caused the Doctor to reassess the situation that he found in the power station. Frank Stone was not the only person to be shuffling along the passageway with a haunted look on his faces. Every person that they passed appeared to be locked into their own terrifying world and never once looked into the eye of the Doctor or David, and every one of them carried with them a thin mist of green vapour that wrapped its self around each of the shuffling people going to, or coming from the restaurant.

The restaurant was truly excellent. Every thing about it was designed to give all the workers at the power plant a restful place to relax in; a place that for a few minuets they could forget the burden they carried when they were keeping the reactor under control. A great deal of thought had gone into the decoration. The soft furnishings were arranged so that there was a clear view of the sea, and as they drank their tea and discussed what had been going on the day before, had a clear view of all the sea birds that flocked to that part of the coast.

Except, no one was talking. The Restaurant might have been a church for all the noise that was generated. It was even more silent than the control room, and the green mist, that appeared every where had more substance and had attached its self to all the people taking their rest break, and acting like a straight jacket, restricting their movements to the bear necessities. Every one who entered the room collected their refreshment and then shuffled to the nearest unused seat, sat down and looked unseeingly out to sea. Frank Stone did exactly the same, and even when the Doctor and David joined him, showed no sign of recognising the fact that he had company.

The Doctor had grown very thoughtful since he had collected his tea. David, since he had first met him, had never seen the Doctor so deep in thought, yet compared to his father and the rest of the people on their tea break, he was a man on a spring, constantly looking from left to right and becoming more animated when ever an other worker joined the tea drinkers.

What ever the Doctor was thinking, he did not want to share it with David. Each time that the boy made an effort to speak, the Doctor turned away and looked elsewhere.

If the Doctor mind was working in overdrive, David's was in supper drive. He might only have been ten years old, but even he could see that there was something wrong, and when he saw the Doctor remove from his pocket the thin tube that he had held when David first saw him, and attach it to a small spinning top, that immediately started to spin, it became obvious that the Doctor was on the trail of something far beyond the imagination of a small boy.

That, however, did not deter David's growing curiosity. He watched the spinning top, wondering what it was for, until his eyes began to close and he felt himself drifting of to sleep. The Doctor nudged him, and David came from what he felt was a deep sleep to being fully awake.

'Don't watch the top,' the Doctor said, 'and stay alert.'

'Alert for what?'

'A reaction from your father.'

David looked at his father and saw him staring at the top as if his life depended on it. Slowly his eyes started to gain life and became animated. His hands and legs began to twitch and he looked for all the world as if he was going into fit.

'Hold his hand and talk softly to him,' the Doctor commanded, ' He is just about to reach a critical stage of casting out the Parasite that has taken control of this power station.'

If David was shocked by what the Doctor said, he was even more shocked by the sudden reaction of Frank Stone. He stopped twitching as his whole body went into a spasm and for a moment stopped breathing. Then the green mist that had cocooned him contracted and formed a column of green smoke, so dense that it appeared solid. For a moment it hovered them exploded into a fine mist, and started to drift away until Frank, with a sudden gasp, relaxed and fell back into the chair that he had been sitting in and fell into a deep sleep.

'What have you done to my dad; what parasites?' David was so angry he failed to notice that the green mist, which was attached to every other person in the restaurant, had become agitated and had started to make what could only be described as threatening motions towards the Doctor.

The Doctor stopped the spinning top and replaced it, with the slim tube back in his pocket. 'Don't worry, he will wake up quite naturally in a few moments, but before he does, I have something to ask you.'

'No, answer my question. What parasites?'

He did not appear to be all that keen to ask the question, or to answer David's, and the boy with a grim foreboding of what he was about to be asked grabbed his fathers hand and stared at the Doctor with a mixture of hate, sorrow, and resignation.

'I'm sorry! I can't change the past. Your father has to try and destroy this power station, and I have to tell him how to do it.'

'No.' David's cry hurt the Doctor more than anything that he had encountered for many years. Both of his harts were beating and telling him that he should stop what he was about to do, but as far as he could tell, there was no other way to save the world from the parasites.

'Why?'

'Look, this station has been taken over by an alien presents, so small they act like a virus.' He waved his arm in a circular motion! 'Only they're not your ordinary viruses. They're intelligent. They take over a host, but are able to act together by a kind of telephony. Only its not telephony. It's more complicated than that. They know what is happening to every other one of their species, and they know that I have just killed one of them to release your father.'

David noticed that the Doctor did not look to pleased about that statement. One moment he could be full of jokes, the next relentless which in turn made him feel guilty. If David knew what an enigma was, then that is what the Doctor was.

'They have to be contained, and now they are watching me, so I need a diversion, and I need to find the vehicle that they arrived in. Your father can help me by causing the diversion. I want your permission.'

'You can't ask me to do that.'

Every ounce of compassion he had accumulated in his nine hundred years of life was in the look that rested on the boy.

'I told you that I will not change the future. If I do nothing, then when I return you to your foster parents home, you would become like every one in this room. A host to an alien presents that lives in your body and removes all the will to live, as you should. I will not allow that, so with or without your help I am going to do what I must to protect your future.'

'I don't think that will be a very good idea Doctor.'

Mr Goodhall had followed them to the restaurant and he now stood behind the Doctor, holding a very strange weapon. It was so strange that it did not appear to be a weapon, yet the confidence that Mr Goodhall showed, made it quit clear that to try any thing that he would disapprove of, could result in some very unpleasant consequences.

'You realy should not have killed one of my pets. They can become quite upset when one of their numbers is deleted. They look around for some one to blame, and then they realy start to make that persons life a misery.' He indicated the swirling green mist.

All the time he talked, Mr Goodhall was smiling and never once took his eyes of The Doctor.

The Doctor, for his part kept very still, even though his mind was racing. The Weapon was familiar, but try as he might, he could not place where it had originated. It had certainly not been made by the race to which Mr Goodhall belonged. Of that he was sure. He was just beginning to work out the point of origin of the race of aliens who could control a linked parasite when Mr Goodhall immobilised him.

Mr Goodhall seemed content with the Doctors demeanour.

'My race is quite familiar with psychic paper, so I knew that you were not Dr Smith. It did not take long for me to find out that you are a time lord, the last I believe, who takes it upon himself to interfere with the legitimate expansion of races simply because he deems it unacceptable. Your arrogance Doctor, knows no bounds, so it is my pleasure to be instrument of your downfall.'

Mr Goodhall was enjoying himself. The last time lord, unable to move; unable to speak; totally helpless and unable to lift a finger to escape the predicament that he had fallen into.

'You do realise what this is? He indicated the weapon with a slight movement of his head. ' Of course you do. It's an immobiliser; stops you moving; stops you talking; stops you breathing if I press one more button. It can even stop both your hearts from beating. No chance of you regenerating then. I wonder what it is like for a time lord to die. Silly me. When you are dead, you wont be able to tell me.'

Mr Goodhalls confidence was the cause of his downfall. So intent on watching the Doctor, he had forgotten the boy David and Frank Stone, who was coming to the surface after his short nap. There seemed to be telepathic link between man and boy that caused them to act as one.

David had seen that his father had heard every thing that Mr Goodhall had said, and knew that he was not happy to have been the victim of a plot. David moved quickly away from his father and went behind Mr Goodhall's back. It would have taken a very strong willed human or alien not to be surprised by the unexpected move. He could not help himself and turned to look at the boy to see what he was doing behind his back.

Mr Goodhall swung around and fixed David with a cold stare, before resuming his triumphant smile. Just as his lips parted to say something sarcastic, Frank Stone sprang from the chair that he had been sleeping in, and hit his former controller, hard on the side of his head.

If Mr Goodhall was surprised as he fell to the floor, it was nothing to the surprise of Frank and his son. When Mr Goodhall hit the floor, the human form dissolved into a creature that was certainly not human. It appeared to be an enlarged bug, the kind that eats all your roses and leaves nothing but the stems.

David was so fascinated by the sight of a real life alien that he almost missed the look of horror, that passed across the Doctors face, which was the only movement he could make, as Frank Stone picked up the alien weapon and was just about to experiment with one of the buttons.

David was instinctive with his response. 'Dad! Don't.' Then remembering what the Doctor had told him ran to his paralysed friend to hold him up.

Frank Stone, thinking for a brief moment that it was he who was being spoken to, lay the weapon on the floor, well away from the alien bug, and went to help his son with the Doctor.

A grateful look crossed the Doctors face as feeling and mobility slowly returned to his body.

'Never trust an alien weapon until you know what it does,' The Doctor croaked, 'and even then always be suspicious of it.' He stretched, and moved his body until it began to loosen up.

'That's better.' He said. 'Now we had better move away from hear, before Mr Goodhall wakes up and sends all his little friends after us.'

With Frank and David's help, the Doctor was soon bouncing along in his usual confident steps. He seemed to be leading them, rather than the other way round. Passage after passage was passed, until they came to a staircase. For a moment the Doctor paused, then decided that they would go down. Five flights later, they arrived at the basement, where the Doctor took from his pocket the small tube that he had been carrying when David first saw him. It bleeped, and then started to flash, increasing its illuminations when the Doctor turned right, and headed away from the stairs.

The device fascinated Frank. He had never seen anything like it in his life. He had to ask what it was, and to both the Doctor and Frank's surprise, David answered. 'It's a sonic screwdriver,'

'Every home should have one.' The Doctor said in his usual flippant manner, but it was said to hide his confusion about David's statement. How did he know what a sonic screwdriver was?

The passage was not very long, and they soon arrived outside a large and heavy door, which, with the help of the magic tube was quickly opened. The room they found themselves in had once been a large storeroom. Now all it held was a large egg shaped capsule that pulsed with an unknown energy that made the air vibrate.

David, with the curiosity of youth, walked towards it; then around it; then reached out to touch it.

The Doctor reached out his hand and stopped the boy from making contact. 'Remember what I have said. Never play with alien devices until you know they can't hurt you, and even then make sure you know what it does.' He in his turn walked around the capsule, all the time looking at his sonic screwdriver. When he arrived back at what was assumed to be the front, the Doctor twisted the screwdriver, which started to pulse in time with the capsule. Slowly a door opened and he was able to look inside.

David could not resist doing the same and appeared to be quite disappointed by what he saw. 'Its not a Tardis.'

'There is only one.' The Doctor said it without thinking, and the hint of sadness made the boy look at his friend in a new light. The last time lord! An extinct species! Just like the dodo that he had been learning about in school. Then the Doctors face light up, and David knew that he might be the last of his people, but he certainly was not the least.

'No. This is a travel pod. Transports a single occupant from the mother ship to a planets surface. This is how Mr Goodhall arrived.' He turned to Frank. 'When did you start to feel that you were not in control?'

'About two weeks ago.'

'Was the temperature normal before you lost control?'

'Yes.'

The Doctor thought for a moment. 'Then why is it so warm now?'

He looked inside the capsule, and then he stepped inside.

For a few moments he was lost from view, but he was soon back with the man and boy, the look on his face lost in wonder. 'That's how they do it, and now I know what I have to do.'

Frank and David, almost as one said, 'Do what?'

'Communicate. They have hidden themselves somewhere out in space where detectors from Earth will not be able to find them. Cut off from any contact with Mr Goodhall, they monitor the temperature rise across the planet. When it reaches a certain average rise that will be the signal for their invasion to begin, and that is when they become visible.'

'So what causes the temperature to rise?' Despite himself, Frank Stone was slowly being drawn into a situation that he wasn't sure he wanted to be in. The Doctors influence was infectious and irresistible and Frank found that he was eagerly waiting for an explanation.

'When the parasites take over a body, and it has to be a body where the mind is focused on one particular subject; any active brain patterns and they can't get a grip, they create heat. When they start to breed, more heat is created. Humans can live with a rise in body temperature with out any real danger, and with the parasites controlling the person they are inhabiting, the temperature can rise another few degrees with out any ill effect. When the new generation is ready, they leave the host body to look for other bodies, and when they find one they invade and the whole process starts over again. When enough bodies have been taken over, the air temperature will have risen above the normal and that is when the Mother ship will uncloak and the main invasion will begin.'

'You said you know what to do. So?' Franks curiosity was about to get him into trouble, and even if he had known that, he would still have jumped in with both feet.

'Are you sure you want to know?' the Doctor said, 'It could cause you a great deal of discomfort,' he looked at the boy, ' and even more distress to your family.'

'Mr Goodhall called you a time lord.' He looked at both the Doctor and David. 'That makes you an alien. Both of you! 'I want to know what you are going to do.'

Before the Doctor could answer, David with a hesitant voice said, 'The Doctor is going to ask you to do something, that will putt you in prison, away from your family for many years. That's right, isn't Doctor?'

'Yes.'

'Go on then Doctor. Ask! I don't have to do it, whatever it is, do I.'

The Doctor was once again looking at the boy, who was trying not to scream out, 'Don't do it.' while silently nodding his head in acquiescence.

'I'm so sorry, but trust me. Every thing will turn out for the best.' He touched the boy and the turned to Frank. 'I need a diversion, so you are going to destroy the power station.'

It took a couple of seconds for the enormity of what the Doctor was requesting. When it dawned on him that the Doctor was being serious, Frank almost exploded with indignation. He advanced on the Doctor and if he took hold of him, might seriously have hurt him.

The Doctor stood perfectly still as Frank raved at him.

'You must be out of your mind. Even if I could destroy the station, do you think that I could allow millions of people to die? That would be worse than what the parasites did to me. I wont do it.'

Somehow he had managed not to hit the Doctor, a piece of self-control that surprised him, and at the same time made David very proud of his father.

'You must. I need a diversion so that I can do what I have to do, and at the same time, release every one who has been taken over. Soon, Mr Goodhall will be back in control, and he will send his tiny relatives out to look for us. They know that I had to eliminate one of their numbers so they will not be to happy when they find us. Think what it was like when you were under their control, and then multiply that feeling a hundred times. And it wont just be us. When they break out of this station and start taking over every one that they meet, that total feeling of despair will spread out over the whole country and the world.' He paused for a moment. 'If it makes you happy, the power station is quite safe. What I am going to tell you will set of a great many alarms and make the parasites concentrate on you. The noise and the amount of agitation that it causes, will also have the side effect of waking up your co-workers which will force the parasites from their bodies.'

Despite his anger, Frank Stone was listening to what the Doctor was saying. He didn't like it, but it was beginning to make a certain amount of sense, and that he found was frightening.

'Wait! If all this noise happens, wont the parasites simply return to the bodies of their former hosts when all the noise dies down?'

'No, they will already have found another host, and believe me, you would not want to be in his shoos.'

The Doctor then proceeded to instruct Frank in what he was going to do. There was no question about that. Frank knew it. David knew it, and the Doctor took it for granted. Frank Stone was going to try and destroy the Sizewell Nuclear Power Station.

David felt as if he had betrayed his father, and his mother. He had a rough idea about what would happen, to his father. He would be led away in chains. He would stand trial for terrorist actions, and no matter how much he protested his innocence, he would be sentenced to life in prison. David almost cried! The Doctor carried on giving his instructions, completely oblivious to the anguish of the boy, who with the fortitude of youth held back the tears he wanted to shed, and tried to believe that all would turn out well in the future.

The Doctor finished giving his instructions, then as an after thought said, 'When you are arrested keep saying that Dr Smith told you what to do. Tell them about the time lord and his companion. And tell them about the Alien invasion. No one will believe you, and you will be sent down. Have faith and trust me. Things will turn out well in the end.

With that, the Doctor grabbed the boy by the arm and set of at a run away from the bemused Frank.

David, who was becoming used to the Doctors sudden bursts if energy, managed to keep pace, and all the time his mind was racing. He didn't know weather he liked the Doctor or hated him, but what he found obvious was that the Doctor was in charge, and David just had to go along with him and trust.

At the end of the corridor, the Doctor stopped, opened the door of a small storeroom, and when they were both safely inside closed the door.

'This will do.' He said.

'Where are we? David said, who despite the turmoil of his thoughts still wanted to know what was going on.

'A storeroom! It could be any old storeroom just as long as it has one of these.'

He pointed at a small control panel set just inside the door. David recognised it as a thermostat that the Doctor immediately started to manipulate with the sonic screwdriver.

'There was one of those in the room where that capsule was standing.'

'I know, but I didn't want you or your father to start thinking things through. Every thing has to be done in order so that we can fool the hidden space ships that are carrying the invading armies of bugs.' He reached out to touch the boy, who shook his hand of with a look of contempt. The Doctor smiled sadly. 'Now we wait.'

Frank Stone had made his way back to the power stations main control room. Every thing was as he left it, except that Mr Goodhall was away from his desk. Frank made his way to his station, where he logged himself into the system. His screen burst into life, and Frank, following the Doctors instructions, began to commit treason.

Each stroke on his keyboard brought warning lights up on other stations, until every screen in the control room was a mass of lights. No one took much notice of the flashing lights; they simply followed the procedures laid down for coping with an emergency. Only when the alarm bells started to ring did his fellow workers start to become agitated.

Soon, when the whole station was alive to the sound of alarm bells, sirens and a recorded voice instructing every one to evacuate the building, a green mist was leaving the bodies of all the people who worked in the power station. The people were regaining control of their minds and bodies, and were thinking human beings once more, and being able to think, they were able to tackle the problems that had been signalled on their boards.

The Bug, once more disguised as Mr Goodhall came rushing back to the control room, only to find that it was once more in the hands of the control room staff.

The green mist that had left their host bodies, had consolidated into a large cloud, and seeing that one person in the room was open for nesting, and knowing that he had been indirectly responsible for the death of one of it's fellows, descended on mass and entered the body of Mr Goodhall.

Frank's colleagues soon recognised where the problem with the station lie. They pounced on the hapless controller, dragging him away from his workstation, and at the same time, beating him until he was unconscious. When Frank came to look back at the events of that day, he concluded that that was the lowest point. That his friends and colleagues believed what they saw on his screen, was a testament to the Doctors instructions and his own good acting. Even when he did have time to look back, he was never sure weather what he did was for real or just a giant confidence trick.

Back in the storeroom, The Doctor on hearing the alarms sounding took the boy by the hand and raced back to the alien capsule.

Standing in front of it, the Doctor turned to look at the boy. 'What I am going to do is cause this machine to send out a high-pressure wave, that will slowly expand over the next five years. This will cause the weather patterns to change. Temperatures will rise and the alien ship will be able to see this happening. They will think that their parasites are expanding out, away from this station, and slowly taking over the world.' With that he entered the capsule, before David could raise any objection.

It was a difficult few moments for the young boy, who seemed to have aged well beyond his years since he had met the Doctor. Every thing that he had been told made a kind of sense, but nothing enlightened him about how he was going to keep his father out of jail. He wanted to trust the Doctor. Of course he did, but the Doctor had never given any explanation as to how he was going to change time. His trust was beginning to stretch almost to breaking point, so when the Doctor re-emerged from the capsule and took him by the arm and almost frog matched him from the storeroom, David became certain that the Doctor was going to leave his father to suffer the fate that had been written about in all the papers.

Outside the storeroom, the Doctor closed the door and locked it with the sonic screwdriver. He then placed a small device just above the doorframe, which when it was switched on made the door instantly disappear.

'Chameleon generator.' He said by way of explanation. 'Mr Goodhall had one strapped to his chest; the Tardis should have one, but I like the shape that it is stuck in. I've become quite used to it after all these years.'

While he was talking, he was walking and taking the boy with him. David thought to try and make a run for it, but the hand that held him by the shoulder, though not painful, was non the less firm.

'Where are we going?'

'Back to the Tardis.'

'Why?'

The Doctor thought for a moment. 'So that I can take you back to your own moment in time.'

'But we haven't saved my father.'

'No.'

'You said.' The Doctor cut him of.

'I said that I can't change the past. I wont change the past. It is far too dangerous. Any thing could happen. You might cease to exist; your father or your mother might cease to exist. The whole world could change, and if that happened the consequences could be catastrophic for the entire universe.'

All the while he was talking, they were getting near to the Tardis, and the Doctor could feel David beginning to resist.

'I'm sorry.' He said as he opened the door of the Tardis, and ushered the boy inside. Only when the door was closed did the Doctor release the boy, who immediately ran to the door, only to find that it would not open fro him.

'Let me out.'

The Doctors flat refusal was just heard over the sound of the Engines that powered the Tardis began to engage.

'No! I am taking you home. I have no choice.'

The Engines stopped almost as soon as they started. It had not been a long journey.

'Take me back.' The boy cried. 'I have to save my father.'

'I told you to trust me, so hold on to that trust for just a little longer.'

The doors of the Tardis opened, and David with another cry of anguish tinged with disappointment ran out into the garden of his foster parents home. He looked back at the Tardis, and with all the hate and loathing that a ten year old could muster spat, 'I hate you,' then he burst through the shrubbery on to the lawn, and threw himself down and burst into tears.

The Doctor watched from the shadows as the boy, finally let the defences that he had for so long kept under strict control break down. He cried uncontrollably until a voice that he recognised said, 'Why are you crying son?'

David looked up, and there standing in front of him, were his parents. Frank looked a little older, and his mother looked uncomfortable, but both were smiling.

'We thought you would like to come home with us tonight. We have a great deal to explain to you.' Frank said, 'And we have even more to make up for the last five years.' His mother added.

David didn't care. He ran to his parents and clung to them as if he would never let them go.

'Come! Lets go and thank your foster parents for doing such a good job with you.' So with his hands holding theirs, David led his mother and father to the house that he had hated, and where he would begin his life again.

The Doctor with a well-satisfied shake of his head, nodded just as a record started to play. Louis Armstrong's 'You have all the time in the world,' seemed to hit the Doctors mood just right. It was true! He did have all the time in the world; he just had to put things in there right order.

As he closed the door of the Tardis he started to make some mental notes about what he had to do.

First the Tardis would have to recognise the boy, otherwise he would not have been able to enter it without being invited. That was the point where the boy became interesting to the Doctor. The Tardis could land in any space, so it would not be to much trouble to materialise in the boys bedroom when he was a small boy, and show him around the inside of the Doctors home.

Second, he needed to have words with his friends in Unit and Torchwood. They would have to know about the hidden alien ship and be ready to deal with it as soon as it showed it's self.

Third, Captain Jack of Torchwood, would have to recruit Frank Stone, and keep him out of prison. Frank would be an asset to the team, and with a little private tutoring, would be the one to discover the whereabouts of the alien ship.

Fourth, David's mother would have to be told when she was to be taken to a home, for the good of her health. Units Dr Jones would be able to organise that.

The Doctor had no doubt about the ability of the earth to defend it's self from the alien threat. They might have interstellar flight; they might posse's weapons of unimaginable power; they might even want to use them. But! There is always a but! They were intelligent and knew their limitations. Their shape and form was not geared for all out war, and primitive planets had a nasty habit if using some very unfriendly weapons that could seriously damage them. It was why they preferred to subjugate a planet by using the parasites.

Once they were discovered they would have a choice. Surrender or die. Being intelligent they would surrender, then they could be handed over to The Shadow Proclamation, who would no doubt put them under a very strict controls so that they would think twice before trying to take over any other populated planet.

All in all, the Doctor was very satisfied with his days work. He might have wished that he had parted from the boy on more amicable terms, but he knew that you can't have every thing you want, and that, in his case, was truer than any one could imagine.

With all this self-congratulations going on in his head, The Doctor had a feeling that he had forgotten something, and for the life of him, could not remember what it was. He started to go through the list once again when the door to the Tardis opened.

'I just wanted to say thank you.' The boy said.

'My pleasure! Always happy to help a friend!'

'Dad said that they have found the alien ship and it is being dealt with.'

'Yes! Well they do know how to do that kind of thing, and your dad is now a part of that. Defending the earth!'

'He told me. What he realy wanted to know was if we are ever going to have cold winters again?'

'That's what I have forgotten to do. Of course! And to think it was only half an hour ago that I set the high-pressure wave working.' He fumbled in his pocket and retrieved the sonic screwdriver. 'Hear we go then.' and with that, he sent out a beam of high-pitched sound. 'There you go! Every thing back to normal! All you have to do now is come to terms with the global warming that you are causing, and this planet is good for another five millennium.'

David smiled, and then walked over to the man he said he hated and hugged him.

'Thank you Doctor.'

He turned and walked out of the Doctors life.

It was always sad when a travelling companion left, and almost a relief. The Doctor hated to see his friends grow old and die. It always left him with a sense of failure.

Still, one thing was for sure, you never knew when you might meet up with them again. He walked over to the doors to shut them, but before he did, he watched the boy take control of his parents. He hoped that he would not be spoilt. David had a strong streak in him that would serve him well in the years to come.

Just as he was about to close the doors, the first snowflakes for over five years began to drift down from the sky. Shouts from the house told him that it had suddenly become much colder, and the proof of that was the sudden white out that the falling snow caused.

The Doctor closed the door, and the Tardis disappeared. Only David heard it going

I'm in trouble

2008-11-10T14:12:00.001Z

Started to dismantle the green house ready for collection by the Laws team of gardeners. All I did was take a few pains of glass out of the sides of the construction, and because of it. I have spent the weekend apologising for being so stupid. Not that I had an accident, you understand. But because I might have had one. So I have spent the week end trying to regain the good opinion of my lady wife. So on Sunday, armed with gloves, goggles and safety shoos I went out into the sunshine,(do you remember what that was?) And proceeded to remove the remaining side panels. Guess what? I only broke one pain of glass and it did not come anywhere near my eyes, hand, or feet. Still, sometime this week, weather permitting, I shall look at the roof panels, making sure that I am in sight of my lady wife at all times. That way I might be still talking to my lady at the end of the week. One thing I must remember is to take lots of photos of the construction as I and the gardening team from Ipswich, start to unbolt all the frame work. With any luck, when we finish rebuilding it, there wont be any nuts, bolts or long pieces of aluminium left over.

Pinch Punch

2008-10-01T11:03:00.001+01:00

The first day of another month. Phew! we got here. This has not been a particularly good year. I suspect that we are all living day by day and some of us, hand to mouth. It is a relief to have reached another milestone in the year and still be able to say that we are still here. That is not to say that there has not been high points. Last weekend I visited Emma and Andrew Cultures Allotment. What a lot of work there is to be done, but with the sun shining, a gentle breeze, the passing trains I can see why having a shed with a barrel of sherry on tap, becomes very attractive. I almost wanted to roll my sleeves up and start digging. I managed after a short mental struggle, to over come the urge to exercise my muscles, and contented myself with the walk from the Cultures home to allotment and back again. Its amazing how the sunshine can relax you and make every thing right in the world. If we listen to the news we are all doomed to a life of poverty and no credit. Is this a bad thing I ask myself. Perhaps we should go back to cash or bartering. That wont happen. There is no control over the flow the transfer of funds, and if there is no control, how would the treasury get its hands on our hard earned cash. How indeed would the banks survive if we all started to pay for what we needed instead of what we wanted, and stored our money under our beds. The bankers could say goodbye to their multi million pound bonuses, and high living lifestyle. Should we feel sorry for these people? Maybe! They after all just fallible human beings, but it is easy to see why there is little sympathy for their plight. Neither they or the governments, past and present had much concern for lesser companies that needed help when they were on the ropes. Now it would seem that all of us are being urged to rally round to bail these incompetents of of the hole they have dug for them selves. They will then climb out of the hole on the shoulders of the rest of us who are in the hole with them, because of the encouragement we received to borrow more than we could payback. This does not relieve of us of our own responsibilities for the mess we all find ourselves in. But when you hear that banks have acted like your corner shop bookies, laying of bet to minimise their losses, it does make you wonder if the world has gone mad. Is it any wonder we all look back at what we perceive as happier time when life was so much simpler. So here's to the next month, and whatever it might bring.

2008-09-02T10:54:00.001+01:00

Went to see Dream Nights at the Key Theatre last Saturday. Had to try hard not to compare it to the last production I saw, but it was still good. Why is it that young people who putt a great deal of work and energy into crating something as entertaining as this show was, get very little attention from any one other than their friends and relatives. The same thought carries over to all those other young people who put their time to good use, either in sport, the arts or indeed, doing a job when they are on holiday. What a sad reflection on our society that if those thirty plus young people had run riot thought the city of Peterborough, they would not have been out of the news for weeks. It does not need any skill to be a nuisance; it hardly needs any brain power. Yet these kind of irritants will be paraded all over the news papers, so that their contemporaries can see that they are famous. So, to redress the balance, well done to the young people who put on a great and entertaining show in Peterborough, and well done to all those other young people around the country who have also given so much joy to all their friends and relatives.

2008-08-28T11:05:00.001+01:00

I spent most of last Saturday on Holkham beach on the North Norfolk coast. Having had a pick-nic with a glass ,or two of chilled white wine, I lay on my back observing the clear blue sky. Not a cloud could be seen. The sun shone, the wind gently moved the dune grass, and the only noise to be heard was children playing. Quite idyllic you must agree. The tide was out, almost to the point of being non existent, which meant that I and my lady could walk on the flat sand. This we did when the sky clouded over,(that is the one good thing about English weather, it can change from one moment to the next) and walked to Wells and back. Pointless you might say, but every so often it is good to stop thinking, make your body do exercise that it is not used to, and simply stop, do something out of the ordinary, for the princely sum of £3.50, for parking. In this so called time of financial trouble, it is realy good to know that for a small fee and a quarter tank of petrol, you can still enjoy a day out and for a brief moment, forget your troubles.

"2nd Day

2008-08-20T10:49:00.000+01:00

Have just tried to directly access my blog and got in first time. Could this be the start of something big

Getting to Know You

2008-08-19T18:54:00.001+01:00

I have just tried to make accessing my brand new blog a lot easier. I hope

Tuesday

2008-08-19T17:30:00.001+01:00

Not a good day to start this Blog. The wife's computer is over heating and refusing to work. I feel like a piece of chewed string and the rain is coming down like stair rods. I want to try and put on the web a story, in serial form. If it is any good, all you out there in web land will read it. If however it is a load of poo, then you wont, and I will have wasted your time and mine. still, nothing ventured nothing gained. So watch this space for the first paragraph of FIRST.