“But how do we get him there? Surely he’ll be expecting us to do try something?” Pearl asked.
Ruby smiled.
“We shall use the most potent and destructive weapon we have. Hariman’s own greed and vanity”.
Ruby outlined her plan. It involved all of them pulling together, with perfect co-ordination and split-second timing. But bearing in mind the doubtful reliability of certain members of her team (ie Tobias), Ruby had also built in one or two ‘contingencies’ should something unexpected happen and the whole scenario end up going a little ‘sideways’.
“The important thing is to remain ultra watchful at all times, as we can never quite be sure what else Hariman, Nutter or Devizes might have hidden up their grubby sleeves.”
With those words, Ruby sent them all about their business.
It was time to save the world.
Chapter 20
Hariman is Stage Struck
The village fête was coming to a close. The fires for the ‘folk roast’ had been lit and all the stalls were being either tided up, or taken down, that is, apart from those that had already fallen down, of course. The Bring and Buy had all been bought. The Tombola had rolled, and the winners declared. Mr. Atkinson had given out his remaining coconuts to the local children hanging round his stall. The bunting was still fluttering, albeit a little limply.
The sun was ebbing away; yet the roses were still blooming. They seemed larger than ever; their thorny branches ever more densely entangled; their scent increasingly overwhelming.
The fête was to officially end at seven o’clock in the evening. This was at Hariman’s suggestion. He had also proposed that, as it would take a few minutes to tidy up a bit and for people to settle down, his speech should take place at six minutes past seven, precisely. Although the Reverend had considered this request a little peculiar, he had agreed; and after that he didn’t really think much more about it.
The church bell chimed seven, and, as per the Reverend's earlier request, all the stall holders and villagers began drifting dutifully towards the platform near to the old church tower, for “a few words from our main sponsor.”
On the podium, together with Reverend Phullaposi, were The Mayor, Trixie, Bubbles, Alice Nutter, Liz Devizes and of course, Hariman, flashing his serene crocodile smile.
Magpie Jack was in an over-looking tree. Tobias had taken up his allotted position next to the platform steps. Pearl and Ruby were as close to the podium as they could physically be without drawing the attention of the Doctor and his henchwomen.
The bell finished tolling.
Everybody waited.
Nothing.
Hariman, Devizes and Nutter stood smiling at the crowd, nodding in hello to this person or that, but not a word nor a sound came from any of their lips.
The Mayor gave a highly theatrical and impatient “Cough, cough,” and glowered at Hariman; tap-tapping his large, ornate pocket-watch pointedly, gesturing with his free hand, and mouthing irritably for the Doctor to “get a move on.”
Hariman still made no sound; he just continued to gaze out at all the villagers, smiling his soulless smile.
After a couple more minutes, the crowd was becoming more than a little restless. There was a sullen, surly hubbub of questions, as each began to ask his neighbour: “What's the delay? Why doesn’t Hariman just get on with it? When are the festivities going to start?”
People started to shift from foot to foot, muttering to each other and coughing loudly enough to give the hint that they were expecting something to happen, something good, right now; and, what's more, that if nothing did happen, then they would make something happen.
By this point they were all getting just a little bit… mutinous.
The increasingly strong scent of the roses was not helping matters, either; it really was uncomfortably overpowering now...
With the practised eye of a skilled politician, Mayor Whittle began looking around him for the quickest escape route in case things turned ugly. He was rapidly beginning to regret giving his chauffeur, bodyguard, and general oppo Paul Bassey the weekend off to visit family in Tiger Bay. Paul was the man to have in your corner in a crisis.
“Come on, lad,” Whittle snapped. “Say summat. Yer losin' 'em, y'fool! Look at 'em. It's about to kick off any second!”
Hariman sniggered. Abruptly, he lifted up his arm, checked his wrist watch, noted that it registered six minutes past seven precisely, nodded his head to Devizes and Nutter and began:
“You might be wondering why someone of such importance as I would ever wish to display such... passionate benevolence to your church-fête-holding, morris-dancing, cricket-loving, dwarf-daffodil-cultivating, neat-lawned, excruciatingly boring, tiny, trivial, backwater village?”
Mutters were getting louder with each slur that the Doctor uttered; he was not making any new friends, he continued in the same disdainful, imperious voice.
“No matter. I have been awaiting this moment for a long time. A very, very long time. I’ve been longing for it, you might say. For one hundred and twenty years. Yes. I know. That is indeed a long time. A lifetime and more. And now, thanks to your lowly local postman, David, I have a place here, at last, amongst you. His gracious invitation for me to come here won’t be forgotten. For although I have my doubters,”
He looked directly at Ruby and Pearl and carried on his stride.
“I am here to tell you all, each and every one of you, that things are going to be very different around here from now on.”
As he spoke the last few sentences, there was the sudden sound of distant drumming and humming, accompanied by some kind of herald's trumpet and a chorus of voices; all out of tune, and yet – not.
The noise grew ever louder until it seemed to surround the whole village; a thrumming sound, like that of horses' hooves on a
