Doctor Who ficlet: The Man in the Parlour (1/2) | Charley Pollard | PG
Title: The Man in the Parlour, Part 1 of 2
Author: rustydog
Fandom and prompt: Doctor Who: Eight, Charley; clockwork for itsarift_thing
Characters: Charley Pollard
Rating/warnings: PG for dreamlike creepiness
Words: 941
Beta: travels_in_time
Notes: An Eighth Doctor story for Day Eight of consci_fan_mo.
Charley's favourite ornament hung on one of the tree's middle branches, right at her eye level: a broken crystal from a piece of her mother's old jewelry, now dangling from a red ribbon. In the morning, when sunlight came through the front window, the crystal shattered the light into rainbows that speckled the parlour from ceiling to floor. Charley liked to "capture" rainbows and hold them in her cupped hands.
She pushed the crystal with one finger, so that it swung on its ribbon; but it was after dark now, and the moon outside did not cast enough light to make it sparkle. She turned to go, but just then she noticed a new ornament. It was round, silver, and looked very familiar. She lifted it off of its branch to give it a closer inspection, but as soon as the object was in the palm of her hand, she recognized it. She had held it many times before: her father's pocket watch.
From the time she was even smaller than she was now, she had loved to hear it tick, and Father had let her swing it by the chain near her ear. But it was not ticking now. She shook it, and something inside the silver case rattled. Well, if it had stopped working, Charley was glad it could have a place on their Christmas tree.
"Charley?" A voice and footsteps broke the dark and stillness of the parlour, and Edith appeared in the doorway, an aproned shape in the lamplight from the hall. "Charley, my poppet, come along, it's time for dinner! Your mother sent me to fetch you. You wouldn't want to miss my plum pudding, would you?"
After that, Charley had the impression of a lovely dinner, a goose stuffed full of delicious things, and Father pushing back his chair, telling her to look in the parlour for her gift. Then she was running in a most unladylike manner.
The room was still not well lit, but the man standing next to the Christmas tree in a velvet coat was unmistakable. Charley jumped and clapped her hands.
"Doctor! Oh, Doctor!" She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist in a great hug.
But nothing happened. The Doctor didn't respond. Charley stepped back to look and saw that his eyes were blank and dead.
Father chuckled. "Now, Charlotte, look here. He won't work until you do this." He walked around behind the Doctor to show Charley something sticking out of the back of the coat. "It's a key. You must wind it, like so." Father turned the key eight times, counting each turn aloud.
When he had finished, the Doctor's eyes blinked and his head jerked down to look at Charley. Then his arms moved slowly, stiffly up and toward her as if he wanted another hug. Charley stepped back, startled.
"Here's another trick," Father said. "It's really quite wonderful. Pull this string-" He reached into the Doctor's coat pocket and withdrew a small brass ring, which he pulled until the string it was attached to ran out. The Doctor's head moved up and his mouth popped open.
"But I love you, Charley," he said, and the string began to wind back into his pocket.
Charley looked at the Doctor suspiciously.
"But I love you, Charley," he said again. "But I love you, Charley." And the string was gone.
"Isn't that nice, Charlotte?" Father asked, smiling broadly.
Suddenly Charley didn't like the way all of Father's teeth were showing. She didn't answer him. Instead, she approached the Doctor, reached up to one of his hands, and pulled it down toward her. The fingers were soft and cold. "Sit down," she ordered him, and led him over to the sofa. When he had obeyed her, stiffly, she bent over and pressed her ear to his chest.
"Charlotte?" Father said.
"I want to hear his hearts," Charley answered, and moved her ear to where the second heartbeat should be. Instead of a warm, slow thump, she heard ticking.
"No, no, no!" she shouted, beating the Doctor's chest with her fists. "This isn't right, this isn't the Doctor!" She grabbed the coat and used all the weight of her small body to shake the false man. "Where is the Doctor?" She had begun to cry angrily.
The mouth in front of her opened, and she began beating his chest again as he tried to say, "But - I - love-" Then the mouth snapped shut, and the chest made a rattling sound, as if a piece had come loose.
Sobbing now, Charley climbed onto the sofa and behind the man who looked like the Doctor. Wrenching the key from his back, she stood up tall, not caring at the scandal her shoes would visit upon the upholstery, and flung the key as hard as she could toward the window.
She was a small girl, and not very strong, she knew. She shouldn't have been able to break anything. But when the key hit the window, the glass split in a spiderweb of cracks, then shattered with a sound like bells, and as the shards fell to the ground, the parlour was lit for a moment with all the colors of the rainbow. Then there was silence, and brilliant white light streaming in.
For a moment, Charley felt like the breath had been knocked from her. She wasn't worried about being punished for breaking the glass or the clockwork man - only stunned by the light. She hopped down from the sofa, walked past Father without looking up, went to the front door, and stepped outside.
Go to Part Two
Author: rustydog
Fandom and prompt: Doctor Who: Eight, Charley; clockwork for itsarift_thing
Characters: Charley Pollard
Rating/warnings: PG for dreamlike creepiness
Words: 941
Beta: travels_in_time
Notes: An Eighth Doctor story for Day Eight of consci_fan_mo.
Charley's favourite ornament hung on one of the tree's middle branches, right at her eye level: a broken crystal from a piece of her mother's old jewelry, now dangling from a red ribbon. In the morning, when sunlight came through the front window, the crystal shattered the light into rainbows that speckled the parlour from ceiling to floor. Charley liked to "capture" rainbows and hold them in her cupped hands.
She pushed the crystal with one finger, so that it swung on its ribbon; but it was after dark now, and the moon outside did not cast enough light to make it sparkle. She turned to go, but just then she noticed a new ornament. It was round, silver, and looked very familiar. She lifted it off of its branch to give it a closer inspection, but as soon as the object was in the palm of her hand, she recognized it. She had held it many times before: her father's pocket watch.
From the time she was even smaller than she was now, she had loved to hear it tick, and Father had let her swing it by the chain near her ear. But it was not ticking now. She shook it, and something inside the silver case rattled. Well, if it had stopped working, Charley was glad it could have a place on their Christmas tree.
"Charley?" A voice and footsteps broke the dark and stillness of the parlour, and Edith appeared in the doorway, an aproned shape in the lamplight from the hall. "Charley, my poppet, come along, it's time for dinner! Your mother sent me to fetch you. You wouldn't want to miss my plum pudding, would you?"
After that, Charley had the impression of a lovely dinner, a goose stuffed full of delicious things, and Father pushing back his chair, telling her to look in the parlour for her gift. Then she was running in a most unladylike manner.
The room was still not well lit, but the man standing next to the Christmas tree in a velvet coat was unmistakable. Charley jumped and clapped her hands.
"Doctor! Oh, Doctor!" She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist in a great hug.
But nothing happened. The Doctor didn't respond. Charley stepped back to look and saw that his eyes were blank and dead.
Father chuckled. "Now, Charlotte, look here. He won't work until you do this." He walked around behind the Doctor to show Charley something sticking out of the back of the coat. "It's a key. You must wind it, like so." Father turned the key eight times, counting each turn aloud.
When he had finished, the Doctor's eyes blinked and his head jerked down to look at Charley. Then his arms moved slowly, stiffly up and toward her as if he wanted another hug. Charley stepped back, startled.
"Here's another trick," Father said. "It's really quite wonderful. Pull this string-" He reached into the Doctor's coat pocket and withdrew a small brass ring, which he pulled until the string it was attached to ran out. The Doctor's head moved up and his mouth popped open.
"But I love you, Charley," he said, and the string began to wind back into his pocket.
Charley looked at the Doctor suspiciously.
"But I love you, Charley," he said again. "But I love you, Charley." And the string was gone.
"Isn't that nice, Charlotte?" Father asked, smiling broadly.
Suddenly Charley didn't like the way all of Father's teeth were showing. She didn't answer him. Instead, she approached the Doctor, reached up to one of his hands, and pulled it down toward her. The fingers were soft and cold. "Sit down," she ordered him, and led him over to the sofa. When he had obeyed her, stiffly, she bent over and pressed her ear to his chest.
"Charlotte?" Father said.
"I want to hear his hearts," Charley answered, and moved her ear to where the second heartbeat should be. Instead of a warm, slow thump, she heard ticking.
"No, no, no!" she shouted, beating the Doctor's chest with her fists. "This isn't right, this isn't the Doctor!" She grabbed the coat and used all the weight of her small body to shake the false man. "Where is the Doctor?" She had begun to cry angrily.
The mouth in front of her opened, and she began beating his chest again as he tried to say, "But - I - love-" Then the mouth snapped shut, and the chest made a rattling sound, as if a piece had come loose.
Sobbing now, Charley climbed onto the sofa and behind the man who looked like the Doctor. Wrenching the key from his back, she stood up tall, not caring at the scandal her shoes would visit upon the upholstery, and flung the key as hard as she could toward the window.
She was a small girl, and not very strong, she knew. She shouldn't have been able to break anything. But when the key hit the window, the glass split in a spiderweb of cracks, then shattered with a sound like bells, and as the shards fell to the ground, the parlour was lit for a moment with all the colors of the rainbow. Then there was silence, and brilliant white light streaming in.
For a moment, Charley felt like the breath had been knocked from her. She wasn't worried about being punished for breaking the glass or the clockwork man - only stunned by the light. She hopped down from the sofa, walked past Father without looking up, went to the front door, and stepped outside.
Go to Part Two