Doctor who the unquiet dead Page #6

Season #1 Episode #3

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[Chapel of Rest]

(Dickens takes the lid off Redpath's coffin, and waves his hand in front of the dead man's face. The Doctor watches from the doorway as Dickens searches the coffin.)

DOCTOR:
Checking for strings?

DICKENS:
Wires, perhaps. There must be some mechanism behind this fraud.

DOCTOR:
Oh, come on, Charles. All right. I shouldn't have told you to shut up. I'm sorry. But you've got one of the best minds in the world. You saw those gas creatures.

DICKENS:
I cannot accept that.

DOCTOR:
And what does the human body do when it decomposes? It breaks down and produces gas. Perfect home for these gas things. They can slip inside and use it as a vehicle, just like your driver and his coach.

DICKENS:
Stop it. Can it be that I have the world entirely wrong?

DOCTOR:
Not wrong. There's just more to learn.

DICKENS:
I've always railed against the fantasists. Oh, I loved an illusion as much as the next man, revelled in them, but that's exactly what they were, illusions. The real world is something else. I dedicated myself to that. Injustices, the great social causes. I hoped that I was a force for good. Now you tell me that the real world is a realm of spectres and jack-o'-lanterns. In which case, have I wasted my brief span here, Doctor? Has it all been for nothing?

[Pantry]

(Gwyneth lights the gas lamp. Rose starts the washing up.)

GWYNETH:
Please, miss, you shouldn't be helping. It's not right.

ROSE:
Don't be daft. Sneed works you to death. How much do you get paid?

GWYNETH:
Eight pound a year, miss.

ROSE:
How much?

GWYNETH:
I know. I would've been happy with six.

ROSE:
So, did you go to school or what?

GWYNETH:
Of course I did. What do you think I am, an urchin? I went every Sunday, nice and proper.

ROSE:
What, once a week?

GWYNETH:
We did sums and everything. To be honest, I hated every second.

ROSE:
Me too.

GWYNETH:
Don't tell anyone, but one week, I didn't go and ran on the heath all on my own.

ROSE:
I did plenty of that. I used to go down the shops with my mate Shareen. We used to go and look at boys.

GWYNETH:
Well, I don't know much about that, miss.

ROSE:
Come on, times haven't changed that much. I bet you've done the same.

GWYNETH:
I don't think so, miss.

ROSE:
Gwyneth, you can tell me. I bet you've got your eye on someone.

GWYNETH:
I suppose. There is one lad. The butcher’s boy. He comes by every Tuesday. Such a lovely smile on him.

ROSE:
I like a nice smile. Good smile, nice bum.

GWYNETH:
Well, I have never heard the like.

ROSE:
Ask him out. Give him a cup of tea or something, that's a start.

GWYNETH:
I swear it is the strangest thing, miss. You've got all the clothes and the breeding, but you talk like some sort of wild thing.

ROSE:
Maybe I am. Maybe that's a good thing. You need a bit more in your life than Mister Sneed.

GWYNETH:
Oh, now that's not fair. He's not so bad, old Sneed. He was very kind to me to take me in because I lost my mum and dad to the flu when I was twelve.

ROSE:
Oh, I'm sorry.

GWYNETH:
Thank you, miss. But I'll be with them again, one day, sitting with them in paradise. I shall be so blessed. They're waiting for me. Maybe your dad's up there waiting for you too, miss.

ROSE:
Maybe. Er, who told you he was dead?

GWYNETH:
I don't know. Must have been the Doctor.

ROSE:
My father died years back.

GWYNETH:
But you've been thinking about him lately more than ever.

ROSE:
I suppose so. How do you know all this?

GWYNETH:
Mister Sneed says I think too much. I'm all alone down here. I bet you've got dozens of servants, haven't you, miss?

ROSE:
No, no servants where I'm from.

GWYNETH:
And you've come such a long way.

ROSE:
What makes you think so?

GWYNETH:
You're from London. I've seen London in drawings, but never like that. All those people rushing about half naked, for shame. And the noise, and the metal boxes racing past, and the birds in the sky, no, they're metal as well. Metal birds with people in them. People are flying. And you, you've flown so far. Further than anyone. The things you've seen. The darkness, the big bad wolf. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, miss.

ROSE:
It's all right.

GWYNETH:
I can't help it. Ever since I was a little girl, my mam said I had the sight. She told me to hide it.

DOCTOR:
But it's getting stronger, more powerful, is that right?

GWYNETH:
All the time, sir. Every night, voices in my head.

DOCTOR:
You grew up on top of the rift. You're part of it. You're the key.

GWYNETH:
I've tried to make sense of it, sir. Consulted with spiritualists, table rappers, all sorts.

DOCTOR:
Well, that should help. You can show us what to do.

GWYNETH:
What to do where, sir?

DOCTOR:
We're going to have a séance.

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