delight!'
Archibald grinned at her. 'Yeah,' he said, pleased with himself. He glanced back at Martha, still stood at the bar. She nodded encouragingly at him and he moved into the throng of tentacled aliens, who took the proffered food from him more and more eagerly. Archibald seemed overawed by the attention, grinning at everyone for all he brandished a gun. Soon there was a hubbub of comfortable chatter and even a bit of laughing.
'That was good,' said Martha as Archibald returned to her with the empty tray. He placed it carefully beside the other trays of food and helped himself to a sausage roll.
'Yeah,' he said, about to say something further. But he'd bitten into the sausage roll and his eyes widened in amazement at this incredible new flavour.
'Wait till you try the scotch eggs,' Martha told him.
While Archibald tried each of the different nibbles on offer, Mrs Wingsworth came over to join them. 'I wonder,' she said, 'if there are any more of those delightful cheese and pineapple ones.'
'Sorry,' said Martha. 'All gone.'
But Archibald then offered Mrs Wingsworth a whole tray of them. Mrs Wingsworth let out a high, girlish giggle as she deftly took one. 'Oh, you are an angel,' she said.
'Yeah,' agreed Archibald.
'Hang on,' said Martha, pointing at the tray laden with cheese and pineapple on sticks. 'Where did that come from?'
'It was 'ere,' said Archibald, indicating the end of the bar where all the trays of nibbles waited. 'Did I do it wrong?'
'But there was only one tray of these things,' said Martha. 'And we finished it.'
'Yeah,' agreed Archibald.
Martha looked again at the bar. 'Where's the empty tray?' she said. 'The one you just put down?'
Archibald scrutinised the bar himself but could see no empty tray. He shrugged, then seemed to notice the full tray he was still holding. He lifted it up for Martha to see. 'Here,' he said.
Martha boggled. The robot barman was at the far end of the bar, and she was sure she would have seen him if he'd come down this end to restock the nibbles. Maybe they had special trays in the future, she thought, which just filled up again the moment the food ran out. Maybe they used the same technology as the teleporter thing she and the Doctor had seen down in the engine rooms.
'I never had stuff like this before,' Archibald told Mrs Wingsworth.
But no, thought Martha, something was wrong. She could feel it. After all these months travelling with the Doctor, she'd developed a sort of sixth sense for things like this.
Her thoughts were cut short by Mrs Wingsworth's mocking laughter. 'Well of course you haven't had food like this before, dear,' she told Archibald. 'You weren't born to this sort of lifestyle, were you?' She probably didn't mean to sound so unkind, thought Martha, but it was hardly wise to antagonise the badger with the gun.
'Look,' she said, trying to intercede.
'I wasn't born,' said Archibald proudly. 'I got grown in a test tube.'
'Precisely, dear, precisely,' said Mrs Wingsworth. 'And you were grown with a purpose in mind. We need someone to do the grubby jobs, don't we?'
'Huh?' said Archibald.
'What Mrs Wingsworth means—' began Martha.
'She means we're dirty,' said Dashiel as he and Jocelyn marched back into the cocktail lounge. 'And she's right, ain't she? We are dirty. We fight dirty. An' we don't care when we kill our prisoners.'
Mrs Wingsworth seemed poised to protest but thought better of it. Which was just as well, thought Martha, as the pirates were in an even worse mood than before. Judging by the surly looks on their faces they hadn't found what they were after.
'What's been 'appenin', Archie?' Dashiel demanded.
Archibald carefully put the tray of cheese and pineapple sticks back down on the bar and headed over to his colleagues. His body sagged as he went over, Martha noticed. When it had just been him, he looked taller, tougher, more in control. When the
Archibald grinned at her. 'Yeah,' he said, pleased with himself. He glanced back at Martha, still stood at the bar. She nodded encouragingly at him and he moved into the throng of tentacled aliens, who took the proffered food from him more and more eagerly. Archibald seemed overawed by the attention, grinning at everyone for all he brandished a gun. Soon there was a hubbub of comfortable chatter and even a bit of laughing.
'That was good,' said Martha as Archibald returned to her with the empty tray. He placed it carefully beside the other trays of food and helped himself to a sausage roll.
'Yeah,' he said, about to say something further. But he'd bitten into the sausage roll and his eyes widened in amazement at this incredible new flavour.
'Wait till you try the scotch eggs,' Martha told him.
While Archibald tried each of the different nibbles on offer, Mrs Wingsworth came over to join them. 'I wonder,' she said, 'if there are any more of those delightful cheese and pineapple ones.'
'Sorry,' said Martha. 'All gone.'
But Archibald then offered Mrs Wingsworth a whole tray of them. Mrs Wingsworth let out a high, girlish giggle as she deftly took one. 'Oh, you are an angel,' she said.
'Yeah,' agreed Archibald.
'Hang on,' said Martha, pointing at the tray laden with cheese and pineapple on sticks. 'Where did that come from?'
'It was 'ere,' said Archibald, indicating the end of the bar where all the trays of nibbles waited. 'Did I do it wrong?'
'But there was only one tray of these things,' said Martha. 'And we finished it.'
'Yeah,' agreed Archibald.
Martha looked again at the bar. 'Where's the empty tray?' she said. 'The one you just put down?'
Archibald scrutinised the bar himself but could see no empty tray. He shrugged, then seemed to notice the full tray he was still holding. He lifted it up for Martha to see. 'Here,' he said.
Martha boggled. The robot barman was at the far end of the bar, and she was sure she would have seen him if he'd come down this end to restock the nibbles. Maybe they had special trays in the future, she thought, which just filled up again the moment the food ran out. Maybe they used the same technology as the teleporter thing she and the Doctor had seen down in the engine rooms.
'I never had stuff like this before,' Archibald told Mrs Wingsworth.
But no, thought Martha, something was wrong. She could feel it. After all these months travelling with the Doctor, she'd developed a sort of sixth sense for things like this.
Her thoughts were cut short by Mrs Wingsworth's mocking laughter. 'Well of course you haven't had food like this before, dear,' she told Archibald. 'You weren't born to this sort of lifestyle, were you?' She probably didn't mean to sound so unkind, thought Martha, but it was hardly wise to antagonise the badger with the gun.
'Look,' she said, trying to intercede.
'I wasn't born,' said Archibald proudly. 'I got grown in a test tube.'
'Precisely, dear, precisely,' said Mrs Wingsworth. 'And you were grown with a purpose in mind. We need someone to do the grubby jobs, don't we?'
'Huh?' said Archibald.
'What Mrs Wingsworth means—' began Martha.
'She means we're dirty,' said Dashiel as he and Jocelyn marched back into the cocktail lounge. 'And she's right, ain't she? We are dirty. We fight dirty. An' we don't care when we kill our prisoners.'
Mrs Wingsworth seemed poised to protest but thought better of it. Which was just as well, thought Martha, as the pirates were in an even worse mood than before. Judging by the surly looks on their faces they hadn't found what they were after.
'What's been 'appenin', Archie?' Dashiel demanded.
Archibald carefully put the tray of cheese and pineapple sticks back down on the bar and headed over to his colleagues. His body sagged as he went over, Martha noticed. When it had just been him, he looked taller, tougher, more in control. When the
Similar Books
