'And you, my dear.' But she was still looking at the Doctor.

Peri raised her eyebrows at the Doctor. He smiled back blithely. So she set off towards the church and left him to it.

She could already hear Mrs Tattleshall's voice creaking on the breeze behind her, and was pretty certain that the Doctor was there for the rest of the morning.

'He was always headstrong, even as a child,' Mrs Tattleshall confided to the Doctor. 'I remember his poor mother was quite beside herself with his tantrums when he was a toddler. Lie there on the floor, he would, kicking and screaming.' She pulled her ancient coat closely around her and folded her arms.

'You can tell, you know,' she went on. 'Right from the start you can tell how they'll turn out.'

The Doctor nodded sympathetically. 'It seems to run in the family,' he remarked. 'We had rather a run-in with his brother Michael last night in the pub.'

This was obviously not news to the old lady, who nodded in her turn, knowingly. 'Ah, that one - takes after his father, he does, with his nasty temper. Always ready to fly off the handle. He and William used to fight like cat and dog, they did - and now poor William's gone, Michael won't hear a word against him. Gets real touchy. Worked up. If you ask me, he needs watching - it don't take much to turn him ugly.'

Mrs Tattleshall seemed lost for a moment in contemplation of Michael's iniquity. Then she shook herself. 'Where was I?

Oh yes, young William - I'm not saying he was like his brother, mind. He wasn't a bad lad, just...'

'...headstrong,' the Doctor put in.

The old lady pursed her lips. 'Oh yes,' she said with feeling. 'If his mother had sorted him out years ago, he wouldn't have been so set on getting his own way all the time.

Look what it all came to, him going off in that boat.'

'Oh?'

'And him with a broken arm and all.' Mrs Tattleshall sighed theatrically.

Seeing a way in, the Doctor said quickly, 'I gather from Dr Madsen it wasn't actually broken - just sprained.'

Mrs Tattleshall snorted. A thin reedy sound, which sent a breath of mist streaming out of her nostrils into the cold air.

'Some doctor he is,' she rasped.

'Perhaps you were misinformed,' the Doctor suggested gently. 'These things do get exaggerated.'

The old woman unfolded her arms, then immediately folded them again. 'Maybe,' she said. 'But I know what I saw.

Caught it in the net he did. Last week. Tuesday, as I remember.'

The Doctor frowned. 'You were there?'

'Saw the boat come in.' She nodded towards the top of the street, towards where the masts of the fishing boats at the quay were just visible in the distance poking up beside the church.

Seagulls were wheeling and crying in the air above them, hopeful of easy pickings. 'I was hoping for some fish for tea.

Didn't fancy eating after that.'

'You think the arm was broken?' the Doctor asked.

But she had barely paused for breath. 'Snapped clean through, it was. Blood across the deck. The end of the bone poking out through the poor lad's torn sleeve.' Her wrinkled face screwed up still further as she closed her eyes and shook her head. 'No,' she said quietly, 'didn't fancy any dinner after that.'

The Doctor nodded slowly, looking off towards the distant bobbing tips of the masts. 'No,' he agreed. 'I don't suppose you did.'

Although it was cold, it was pleasant walking in the sunshine.

Peri pa.s.sed the small quay, noticing that several of the boats she had seen the day before were no longer there. Probably out fishing while the weather was fine, she thought. Life had to go on despite the accident.

She kept going, following the track that she and the Doctor had taken into the village the previous day. Peri could now see the fields either side of the path. There was a fence set back from the track on one side and, when she reached a gate, Peri paused. She leaned on the gate looking out into the field.

There were sheep, all grouped together in a clump, so that they looked almost like a cloud on the damp gra.s.s. They seemed to be moving slowly across the pasture, eating the gra.s.s as they went. In unison.

Peri watched for a while. It was relaxing just to stand, leaning on the gate, watching the slow, gentle progress of the animals. She was half expecting the Doctor to arrive, having escaped from Mrs Tattleshall at last. But a part of her was content to stand there alone for a while longer and just do nothing for a time. For a change.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of a dog barking. It was a sudden, sharp sound, from across the field. Peri turned towards the noise and saw a large black dog bounding across the gra.s.s towards the sheep. It continued to make a lot of noise as it approached.

She expected the sheep to scatter, to run from the dog. But they did not. Instead they all turned together. Then they seemed to spread out, forming a semicircle with the dog charging into the middle of it. Slowly, the sheep started to move forward.

Peri had never seen anything like it. She did not consider she knew much about sheep, but she did not think this was how they usually behaved. The dog pulled up short as the sheep encircled it. It made a half-hearted attempt to frighten them again by barking and running. Then it seemed to decide that this was going to be more trouble than it was worth, and it backed away. It crouched down on its front legs, snarling as it slowly worked its way back towards the side of the field. The sheep slowly followed, herding it back towards the fence.

At last the dog turned and bounded off. Peri watched as it leaped over the low fence on the far side of the field and was soon lost to view.

'I must be the only farmer around here whose sheep round up the dogs,' said a voice from behind her.

Peri started with surprise and turned. The woman standing behind her smiled. 'But then I am the only farmer round here,'

she added. The woman was in her late middle age, her hair still clinging to some brown in among the grey. She was wearing a green waxed jacket and jeans. Her face was weather-beaten but kindly, with laughter lines rather than wrinkles. She held out her hand, and Peri shook it nervously.

'Hilda Painswick,' she said.

'Peri. Peri Brown,' Peri replied.

'I'm pleased to meet you. Most people call me Hilly, by the way.'

'Hilly?' Peri smiled, tried not to laugh.

Hilda Painswick saw her amus.e.m.e.nt. 'Yes, it's a joke really,' she agreed. 'Hilly because of Hilda, and because this is Heather Hill Farm.' She gestured at the fields in front of them.

'But it's stuck, for whatever reason. So now I am Hilly, like it or not.'

'And do you like it?'

The woman raised her eyebrows. 'Between you and me, not much. But it's better than being Madame Pain, which was once mooted as an alternative. So please do call me Hilly.'

From somewhere in the distance came the sound of a dog yelping, a frightened almost pathetic sound, which carried thinly on the breeze.

The Doctor had made good his escape from Mrs Tattleshall.

He had checked his watch, tutted, made a point of looking up the street after Peri, and eventually got across the message that really he ought to be going.

He made a point of holding the old lady's arthritic hand for several moments after he shook it goodbye, and of looking into her pale old eyes as he thanked her for the conversation and said how much he had enjoyed it. He knew what it was like to be old and unappreciated.

Once Mrs Tattleshall was safely back inside her house, the Doctor considered. It was a while since Peri had set off. She would be well ahead of him now, and they had agreed to meet back at the pub for lunch if they didn't run into each other before that. Rather than spend the time hunting for Peri and probably failing to find her, the Doctor decided to take a walk down to the other end of the village. He swung round on his heels, drawing in a deep healthy breath of the chilled air.

As he turned, he could hear children's voices, shouting and laughing on the breeze. In the distance, beyond the pub, he could see small figures running, chasing, dashing madly round the school playground. The Doctor smiled. He liked children.

There was an innocent charm about school playtime that somehow attracted him. A microcosm of the Universe in which the evil forces were a nervous bully, the G.o.ds were the teachers, and a definition of suffering involved either mild detention or overcooked cabbage. He liked the symmetry of the idea too, he decided, as he set off down the hill. From the old to the young, from the worldly-wise gossip of Mrs Tattleshall to the naive enthusiasm of children. He was looking forward to a friendly chat, he decided.

Peri chatted to 'Hilly' Painswick for several minutes, finding the woman pleasant and friendly company. She glossed over how she and the Doctor had arrived on the island, and tentatively mentioned that she had heard the island's vet had recently died. Peri said she a.s.sumed that posed problems.

Hilly looked away at that point. 'Poor George,' she said with a sigh. 'It was so very sudden. Flu apparently.' She blinked, wiped her eye with the back of a gloved hand. 'But we soldier on,' she said. 'Dr Madsen is very helpful.' She took a deep breath and was at once her old self again, the demons of memory banished. 'He helped me inoculate these sheep the other week.'

'Oh?' Peri wasn't sure what to say. Should she change the subject, or just let the woman talk?

'You know, ringworm, that sort of thing. New procedure apparently. George hadn't mentioned it, but Dave Madsen read up on it and called some friends of his at the Ministry of Agriculture. He used to work there, you know.'

'I didn't. No.'

'Some sort of personnel job, I think. Anyway, we'll manage until we can find a proper replacement for George.

Dave says he can get whatever we need sent over on the mail boat.' She turned and looked back at the sheep, now clumped together once more as they made their lazy progress across the field. 'One less thing to worry about, and that's always a mercy.'

They talked for a few minutes more before Hilly excused herself. Peri watched the woman striding purposefully across the field, calling affectionately to the sheep as she went. Not that the animals seemed to notice or care.

There was still no sign of the Doctor. Peri wondered whether to head back towards the village. But there were only two possibilities she could think of. Either he was still talking to Mrs Tattleshall, in which case Peri was happy not to be involved, or he had finally managed to escape from her. In that case, if he was following her, she would be able to see him heading towards her, past the distant quay. And since she could not, the only other possibility was that he had wandered off in a completely different direction and had no intention of meeting her again before their rendezvous at the pub.

As she worked through these possibilities, Peri started along the track, heading back towards the open moorland.

There was a while yet before she needed to start back towards the pub, and she had half a mind to see if she could find her way back to the TARDIS. It would be good to be able to a.s.sure the Doctor it was safe and to be able to lead him straight to it.

Without the fog, the moorland seemed wide, empty and free. The previous afternoon Peri had found it close, oppressive and stifling. What a difference a bit of sunshine made, she thought as she reached the top of a shallow slope and looked down the other side of the gentle hill. She stood for a moment, taking in the view. There was a small wooded area off to one side. In the distance she could see the cliffs and beyond them was the sea. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the coastline, was the smudge of another island - Sheldon's Folly, perhaps.

Peri turned to look back the way she had come. She could not see the village, that was too far away now. But she could see the comparatively ordered layout of the fields of Heather Hill Farm, the track that worked its way between them. And between the fields and herself, a figure was approaching.

Her first a.s.sumption was that it was the Doctor. But as it grew closer, Peri could see that although it was a man, he was wearing clothes altogether too ordinary and drab to be the Doctor. There was a fascination in watching the figure slowing growing larger as he strode up the slope towards her. It was only when he was within fifty yards that Peri was able to see who it was.

It was Mike Neville, his piercing blue eyes fixed on her as he approached.

For a moment Peri considered running. But at once she knew that was not an option. Why should she, for one thing?

And for another, if he chose to chase her Peri was pretty sure his long legs would soon outrun hers. Better to let him pa.s.s by, then return to the village and find the Doctor. Probably the young man was on his way somewhere, probably it was a coincidence that they had met. Probably there was nothing to worry about.

Probably.

She changed her mind when he spoke. 'On your own, are you?' he called from twenty yards away.

'Er, yes,' Peri admitted. But she was sure her nervous voice did not carry to him.

'Without your colourful friend.'

'I'm meeting him soon.' She looked round, hoping he would think she was expecting the Doctor to emerge from the landscape at any moment. There was scrubland, bushes nearby. Maybe she could convince him the Doctor was for some reason hiding there.

Neville was shaking his head. 'Saw him in the village.

Heading the other way.' He smiled, all teeth and no effect on the eyes. 'Don't reckon he saw me, though.'

'Oh.' Peri's voice was barely more than a squeak. 'I'd better go and find him then.' She set off down the hill, giving Neville a wide berth.

But he stepped across quickly and caught her by the upper arm. 'There's no hurry,' he said. His breath was hot and smelled of fish. Everything about him smelled of fish.

'Yes there is,' Peri said in a rush. 'I need to get back, let me go, please.'

He didn't. 'But we've got things to talk about, you and me.'

'No we haven't. Let me go.' She pulled her arm free and started to run. But before she had gone two steps, her head was yanked back as he grabbed her hair, pulled her towards him.

She screamed in surprise, fright and pain as she fell backwards, collapsed against his body as he pulled her to him.

'Lots of things to talk about,' he hissed. His eyes were wide, the blue of them seeming to deepen as he stared at her.

His tongue whipped out and coated his lips with a thin film of saliva that glistened in the cold air. Then suddenly, his eyes widened, and he let go of her.

Peri jumped back at once, staring at him in horror and shock. Neville was shaking his head, his mouth opening and closing. He was looking past Peri, towards the scrubland. Peri turned, to see what he had seen that had stopped his a.s.sault.

It was the ragged, scruffy figure they had met the previous day. He was standing on the edge of the scrub, watching them, his head tilted to one side. His face looked even more grimy than it had before, his clothes even more ragged and torn in the better light. He took a step towards them.

Neville backed away. He lowered his head as he went, mumbling. 'I'm sorry sir,' he muttered. 'I meant no harm, really I didn't. Sorry,' he repeated, 'sorry, sorry.' Then he turned and stumbled quickly away.

Peri watched him go in surprise. Then she turned back towards the grubby figure of the man. The dark stubble of his beard was streaked with mud, and his teeth emerged like tombstones when he grinned at her.

'Are you all right?' he asked, surprisingly kindly. Perhaps he was having one of his lucid moments. 'He didn't hurt you?'

'I'm fine,' Peri stammered. 'Just, you know...upset. He didn't hurt me.' She put her hand to her head as she said it.

The roots of her hair hurt like h.e.l.l. 'I'm sorry,' she went on quickly as the man took another step towards her. 'But I have to go. Really I do.' She turned and ran, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she went, following Neville's stumbling trail back towards the village.

'Goodbye,' the man's voice floated to her as she went.

'Until we meet again.' She did not answer. She did not look back.

There were not many children. Perhaps ten of them, variously aged between five and fifteen. The Doctor stood and watched them over the gate. A woman, perhaps in her forties, prim and proper, schoolmarmish, stood by the main door into the small Victorian school building. She held a mug of tea or coffee.