Death of the Doctor Read Online Free PDF Page A

standing there, she backed out of the room and closed the doors, shutting the UNIT world out completely.
    Clyde listened to the music and felt his eyes close; with a swell he remembered the Doctor.
    At the wedding.
    Facing the Trickster.
    Sarah Jane’s husband fading away.
    The exploration of the TARDIS.
    And then he saw himself touching the TARDIS door. And the blue electrical energy crackling around his palm for the first time.
    And his eyes popped open.
    Unseen by anyone else, that energy was there again.
    He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced across the room to Sarah Jane, whose eyes were tightly shut. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was remembering. Her time with the Doctor went back so far, long before Clyde was even born. The things she must have seen, the planets and races she must have visited.
    He was slightly jealous, but in a good way.
    The music was still strumming away. The candles were giving off a strange incense-like smell.
    And it briefly crossed his mind that everyone seemed to be almost entranced.
    And he was aware that all three Shansheeth were staring at him. Straight at him. As if angry that he wasn’t joining in. Remembering.
    But then the atmosphere was broken as behind Clyde, by the doorway, there was a crash as something hit the floor and broke.
    The music stopped suddenly and everyone opened their eyes and looked across.
    Two people stood in the doorway.
    One was a tall teenage boy, dressed in cool casual clothes – and as unfunereal as you could get – tanned and clearly athletic, with bright intelligent blue eyes and wavy blond hair.
    And the other was a much shorter, older woman, so slight she might have been invisible in the wrong light. She was wearing simple denim jeans and shirt and a pair of sneakers, but with high heels. And she was covered with a wrap that on her looked more like a blanket, decorated in what Clyde thought looked like it had come from Native American Indians or something. Her hair was snow white, which was a stark contrast to her well-tanned face.
    The two of them had obviously spent a lot of time in warmer parts of the world than London!
    ‘Oh, so sorry,’ she said in a loud voice. ‘Sorry, don’t mind me. I brought flowers, which is silly, there’s no need is there?’
    And on the floor, Clyde realised, was a smashed vase of long white lilies.
    ‘But I saw these lilies and the vase was so lovely – it was hand-blown by some Asian-Argentines, although I don’t suppose you’d actually use your hands, would you? Cos glass must get awfully hot –’
    Perhaps in an attempt to quieten her gabbling, the yellow-jewelled Shansheeth by the door bowed its head. ‘I am Aureolin of the Claw Shansheeth. I’m so sorry for your loss.’
    ‘Oh, thank you,’ she replied and without taking a breath added, ‘aren’t you gorgeous?’
    The other two Shansheeth repeated the mantra and she nodded to them both.
    ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it terrible?’ She reached out to touch Aureolin’s robes. ‘Oh, you are gorgeous – I wish I had my glasses, you’re like vultures. Lovely, big alien vultures.’ She grabbed the boy’s arm, as if trying to make him touch the robes too. ‘Look, babe, aren’t they wonderful? And nothing to be scared of. Just like I taught you.’ And she sighed loudly and a little sadly. ‘Oh, I’ve missed all this.’
    She bent down and scooped up the dropped flowers, passing them to the boy. ‘Get rid of these, sweetheart, there’s a good boy.’
    With a smile, he carried them to a small table near the door, throwing Clyde and Rani a look that said how pleased he was to see someone of his own age in the room.
    Rani motioned for him to join them, as the woman looked around at all the people sat there, nodding at some, touching shoulders or arms as she started to apologise. ‘Sorry, sorry, oh, hullo I like your hat and sorry. I’m making an awful noise, aren’t I? Although –’ and she was facing Sarah Jane now, who