Jo Jones (formerly Grant) carefully slid the baking tray out of the oven and prodded one of the pastry shapes gingerly. She smiled with satisfaction, licking her fingers. Looks like this time they'll turn out all right, she thought with relief. She so wanted their little dinner party to go well. After all, it wasn't every week your husband's book made the top ten sellers list AND you got the chance to have a documentary made about you. She wondered if Jeremy Paxman really was the ogre they made him out to be. She'd find out in a week or two, she supposed.
Jo stood up and closed the oven door, mentally reminding herself to check on them again in ten minutes. Rain rattled suddenly against the kitchen window and Jo turned and looked out into the night. Big droplets of rain were splattering with increasing force against the glass as the wind picked up. She shivered. It was going to be another dreadful night for the weather. She hoped no more trees came down. They'd had to cancel a party last month because a mini-storm sent a tree down across one of the lanes leading to their home, set deep in the heart of the Welsh countryside. As much as she loved living in the country now, there were times when being at the mercy of the elements like this was a real drag, as she might have said in her younger days. She chuckled slightly at the thought.
As she turned away from the window something clattered to the floor. She looked down and saw a flour-covered tablespoon. She picked it up and popped it on the worktop - beside the mountain of dirty dishes and cups and utensils they'd used earlier in the day. She sighed in mild exasperation, and turned to call out of the room.
"David! Are you going to come down and do this washing up, like I asked you to do several hours ago?"
"It wasn't several hours, it was half-past two when you first asked. That's a few hours, not several!" A tall youth with a mop of blonde hair and lean, quizzical features came into the kitchen and held up a CD player. "And besides, you know I never do any work without my music!" he grinned.
Jo groaned. "Oh no, what noise are you going to inflict on me now? More cyber-industrial-goth rubbish, I suppose. So long as you don't play it too loud. I don't want Katy up and about just yet."
He cleared a space on the worktop, plugged the unit in, turned and winked at her, pressing the play button. To her surprise and delight...
"Mozart! Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, if I'm not mistaken! Why David, I never knew you had a cultural streak!"
He laughed. "Don't worry, Mum. It's the Lionrock remix. The drum and bass will kick in soon."
Jo thumped his shoulder playfully. "Remix Mozart... barbarian!" David was her eldest, back home from first term at University for the vacation. His younger sister Megan, was staying with friends in Cardiff, while the latest member of the Jones family - little 5 year-old Katy - was upstairs, asleep, she hoped. Though the way the wind was howling, Jo was sure she'd be making a surprise visit downstairs quite shortly - probably right after her father returned from picking their guests up from the station. She plodded into the living room, tossed another log onto the fire and eyed the clock above the mantelpiece with quiet concern. She hoped Cliff would return before the weather really did start to get nasty.
***
Katy wasn't asleep, just as her mother suspected. Instead, she was stood on a chair in her room, looking out through her bedroom window into the wintry night, waiting to catch a glimpse of daddy's headlights in the dark. She'd hardly seen him all day, and was especially looking forward to seeing him and Uncle Alistair and Auntie Doris and the presents they were bringing for her.
A flicker of movement in the yard below caught her eye, and she caught a glimpse of a dark shape flitting towards the back door.
"I wonder who that can be?" she said. A sudden shiver rippled down her spine and she hopped back into bed and snuggled down to wait for daddy. Whoever it was must be very, very cold...
***
Jo flopped into an armchair and picked up a magazine, humming in time to the music that drifted through from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter and splash of David's washing up. The wind suddenly picked up in ferocity, making the windows rattle. The back door thumped and banged on its latch. Jo sighed. She wished Cliff would see to the damn thing one day. It was forever banging in the slightest breeze.
"David, will you prop something against the door to stop it banging like that? I don't want it to wake up Katy."
The sound of washing up stopped, and then a few seconds later, the door stopped banging as well. "Thank you!" she called over her shoulder, then returned to her article.
After a couple of minutes Jo began to get a prickling sensation across the back of her neck, as if someone were watching her. She whipped her head round. Someone was standing in the shadows opposite the kitchen door. "David?" she asked. A low chuckle came back in reply.
"David... no, I'm not David." A young man stepped forward into the light, dressed in dark clothes. A wicked grin was plastered across his handsome but cruel features. "David can't help you now." He advanced across the room towards her, sliding a long dark knife from inside his black jacket and holding it up for her to see.
Jo stood up slowly, backing away towards the front door. The man wagged a finger.
"Uh-uh. Don't even contemplate making a run for it, Jo. I may call you Jo, mayn't I? I can throw this knife quite a long way, and besides, you wouldn't seriously consider leaving your two darling children alone in the house with me. With my reputation?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Jo halted. "Who are you?"
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tymus. You can call me sir, or master, or lord. Anything respectful will do," he declared with infinite smugness.
She bit back what she felt like calling him. "What do you want with us?"
" 'Us'? My dear, I'm simply here for you, and you alone. But, your co-operation in this little matter will decide on whether or not I include er, David, was it? And the little girl sleeping upstairs into the bargain as well."
"Don't hurt my children," Jo whispered frantically. "Please, take what you want from the house, and me, but leave my children alone." That made him laugh more. A confusion of sickness and rage started to boil inside her.
"Jo, Jo, Jo... of course I shall take whatever I want. I always do. You or anyone else isn't about to stop me. Not your husband, who is struggling along some wind-swept B-road in that clapped out Land Rover of yours as we speak, or young David, who is sound asleep on the kitchen floor."
Jo stepped forward, colour rising to her cheeks. "If you've hurt him...!"
"You'll, ah, do what?" he giggled. "Belt me with that poker which is lying just outside of your grasp? Throw an apple at my head? Maybe try some of that deadly martial arts you picked up on the gym mats at UNIT HQ all those many years ago?" He mimed a series of outrageous karate blows and kicks and laughed. "Relax. David has simply been rendered senseless by a little nerve jab I picked up from, where was it now, Vulcan?" He giggled again and held up a hand in a V-shaped salute. "Live long and prosper," he intoned, before breaking into more giggles. "But not in your case, I fear..."
Abruptly he flopped down onto the sofa. He waved a hand in time with the music still playing in the kitchen and hummed softly in time with it. "This is lovely, isn't it? I've always liked a little Mozart. His music suits such a variety of occasions, don't you think?"
Jo didn't reply, but what she thought was she's never going to want to listen to Mozart ever again after this.
He patted the cushion beside him. "Now, it seems that I've got plenty of time to kill, so why don't you come over here where we can be more..." he grinned slyly, "comfortable."
Jo folded her arms defiantly. "No," she snapped. "I'm not going to play any sick little games. Just do what you have to do and get out!"
"I'll do what I have to do when I want to do it, and by the furies, you'll do as I want or it'll be the worse for your children!" he hissed. He leaned forward, eyes glittering menacingly. "Understand?"
Jo nodded, ashen-faced. "I understand," she repeated.
"Good. Then..." he patted the sofa again. Jo came forward slowly. Maybe he's made a mistake, she thought. Because if I can get close enough to him, I'll tear his eyes out...
As if he read her mind, he raised a finger. "Just in case you're getting any silly ideas about scratching my eyes out, I think we'll use these." From his jacket he produced a pair of handcuffs.
"You can go to hell," she spat.
He smiled wryly. "Been there, done that. But unless you want to send your kids there as well, I suggest you do as I order..."
The sound of a car engine approaching filled the room. Both Jo and Tymus looked round as headlights flashed through the windows and the vehicle crunched to a halt in the gravel outside. The engine was switched off and they heard a door open and slam shut. Then footsteps running up to the door through the rain, followed shortly by a thumping on the door.
"Gently now, Jo." Jo jumped at the sound of that whispering voice right in her ear. He'd moved across from the sofa with lightning and silent speed. Too quick and quiet for any normal man to make, but Jo was already beginning to suspect he was no normal man. Physically or morally. "Answer the door, now. Let's see who it is. It can't be hubby, he's not due for some time yet." He prodded her towards the door. "Go on. And remember, try anything silly, and your children..." He left the threat hanging in the air.
Jo went and opened the door and blinked in surprise at the figure standing in the porch. "Mike!" she gasped.
The tall weather beaten figure managed a warm smile despite the cold and the rain trickling down his jacket. "Hullo Jo, filthy night, eh? Hope I'm not too early, but I got a rather odd phone call asking me to get here as soon as I could." He made to step inside but Jo continued to block his way, rolling her eyes and pulling a face. "Is, er, everything all right? The man on the phone wouldn't go into specifics but he said you might be in danger..."
"Mike, get back in your car!" she hissed.
He frowned, realisation slowly dawning. Too slowly. It had been a long drive through difficult conditions, and it had sapped his concentration and reflexes. "What? Jo, if you-"
Someone behind Jo pulled the door fully open and stepped close behind her. A young man with handsome but devious, smirking features gazed with delight at him. "What an unexpected bonus!" he boomed. "Mike Yates, former Captain in the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Come calling early for a little hors d'oeuvres, have we?" he asked slyly.
Something in his tone made Mike step back, and fumble for something bulky in his pocket with cold, heavy fingers. Too late. The young man suddenly raised a knife to Jo's throat. Mike froze, cursing his slow reactions.
"Ah-ah, Captain. Step this way, if you please. And don't try anything dashing, or it'll be the worse for our lady friend here."
Mike stepped cautiously inside, a pained expression on his face. "Sorry, Jo. Some knight in shining armour I turned out to be."
"I'm glad you're here anyway, Mike," she said reassuringly, despite the knife poised at her neck. She found she wasn't so afraid now.
Tymus slammed the door shut behind them. "How sweet. How touching. Now then, good Captain, is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see us?" he giggled. "Take it out... slowly."
Mike slowly produced the pistol he'd borrowed from one his old friends from the Black Star movement. Tymus snatched it from him and stuck it in his belt.
"Thank you! One more for my collection. Now, into the living room, both of you!"
***
At the top of the stairs, overlooking the hall, Katy gripped the banisters and watched on with horror. She recognised Uncle Mike, but she didn't know who the nasty man in black was, or why he was holding a knife at her mummy's throat. She wished daddy would come home all the more, now. He'd know what to do.
But daddy might be a long way away still. And she couldn't see her brother anywhere. Perhaps the nasty man had hurt him as well. She had to do something to help!
Quietly, Katy padded down the stairs after them...
***
"What an unexpected bonus! Two for the price of one. Lavarre will be pleased!" Tymus chuckled.
"What do you intend doing with us?" snapped Mike, pushing Jo behind him defensively.
"I think he's come to kill me, Mike. And you too!" Jo whispered. There must be something they could do. Her nostrils twitched at an acrid smell drifting from the kitchen. Perhaps, just perhaps... she nudged Mike gently in the back.
"But why? I don't know him from Adam!" He felt Jo's touch and tensed slightly. Had she spotted something?
"I think I know why," said Jo. "It's something to do with the Doctor, isn't it?"
Tymus applauded mockingly. "Correct. It's strictly personal, I assure you!" he laughed. He held up the knife and tossed it lightly from hand to hand. "Now then... who wants to go first?"
A piercing alarm suddenly rang from the kitchen - the smoke alarm! In the heat of the situation, Jo had scarcely thought of her pastries. For the first time in her life, she was glad she'd forgotten to take something out of the oven. Tymus snapped his head round in surprise, and Jo and Mike jumped at him.
But Tymus was good - very good. He spun to meet their attack and a lashing arm sent Jo spinning heavily to the floor, but Mike managed to grapple with him intending to get at the pistol in his belt. He was at least able to force him to drop the knife, but Tymus twisted in his grasp and threw him aside. Mike fell back against the fireplace, narrowly avoiding toppling into the hearth.
Tymus stood over him and laughed, holding up the pistol. "Were you after this?" He tossed it into a corner and spread his arms wide. "See? Defenceless! C'mon, gimme your best shot, skipper!" he taunted.
Mike snatched up the poker and launched himself back into the attack. Still laughing, Tymus ducked the swinging poker and rammed a fist into Mike's stomach. Mike folded breathlessly, poker clattering to the ground. Tymus followed it up with a hard chop to the back of Mike's neck. The former captain collapsed in a heap, unconscious. Tymus spun round to face Jo, who had grabbed a heavy book and was aiming to smash him over the skull with it.
"Now, now," he warned. "Play nice! Hitting a man from behind like that... I might just have to teach you a lesson!" He gave her a wide, menacing grin, and as she watched, his two canine teeth suddenly elongated into sharp points, like a vampire's fangs. He hissed at her and advanced, hands clutching outwards.
"Mum!" a voice yelled from the kitchen. Tymus looked round to see David standing horror struck in the doorway, grasping at the sore spot on the back of his neck. The piercing smoke alarm had roused him back to his senses. Having dealt with it, and the smoke billowing from the oven, he’d staggered through to investigate the ruckus in the living room. And just in time! He took a step towards Tymus, fists bunched.
"You too, eh?" Tymus gestured grandly. "Well, come on in! The more the merrier!" He ran his tongue along his fangs hungrily.
Jo suddenly barred his path towards him, fists raised. "Keep away from my son!" she cried.
Tymus casually batted her aside. "Oh, get out of my way!" he sneered. "I'll save you until last. Maybe I might wait until hubby gets back, and then dangle your severed - argh!"
A high-pitched screaming filled the air and something landed on his back. Tiny fingers with sharp little nails clawed at his face. He yelled, swinging round and round in attempt to dislodge the thing.
"You leave my mum alone!" a shrill voice howled in his ear. A blunt finger poked into one of his eyes and he howled in pain and rage.
"Katy!" screamed Jo, struggling to her feet. David staggered over from the kitchen to help as well.
With one great effort Tymus hurled the little girl over his head and sent her sailing into the wall beyond. Katy crashed into the wall and slid down, motionless.
Another screaming sound filled his ears. Before he could do anything, something was battering merciless at his face. He slipped and fell down under the onslaught, struggling desperately to ward off the blows. He felt a stab of pain as one of his fangs snapped and he choked as it went down his throat.
Jo battered at him like a woman possessed. She straddled his chest, pinning him to the floor against the sofa, and rained rage-fuelled blow after rage-fuelled blow into his face. She snarled at him, each word punctuated with a fresh strike.
"Don't..."
"You..."
"EVER!"
"Harm..."
"My..."
"Children!"
"Mum... Mum!"
Strong hands pulling her away. She looked down at the bloodied mess she'd made and felt ill. Her rage and hatred faded away.
"He's unconscious, Mum. You can stop now."
"Stop... yes." She dragged a hand through her hair, wincing at the pain from the bruises swelling on her knuckles. "David, pass me those handcuffs, there. Let's make sure he stays put!"
David complied and Jo rolled Tymus over and fastened his wrists behind his back. David looked over to the other side of the room and swallowed
"Mum... Katy..." his voice caught.
"Oh no!" She ran over to the still figure lying on the floor. She was barely breathing, deathly pale. "Oh God, no... Katy, Katy!" She pulled the little figure up and started to weep.
"I'll get the first aid box!" shouted David, running back to the kitchen.
"It's not first aid she needs," a voice gurgled from the floor nearby. Jo looked up to see Tymus struggling to prop himself up. He didn't have the strength to stand, let alone fight through his bonds. But there might be a way...
"You unspeakable..."
"I can save her. No, truly!" He licked the blood from his lips. "I have a device close at hand that will save her life in an instant."
"Then get it! Please!"
He managed to chuckle, and waggled his cuffed hands behind his back. She shook her head determinedly.
"I'm not letting you loose."
"As you wish. We make another deal. How about... a life for a life. I save your child, you give me..." he looked from Jo to the still form of Mike Yates.
"Oh no," she whispered.
"Yes!" He wriggled closer on his stomach. "You seemed pretty keen to sacrifice yourself for your children earlier! Why not now! And if not you, then what about the dashing captain? Come on, you know he'd do the same..."
"I can't!" she yelled. "That's the most horrible-"
"Any more horrible than letting your own daughter die?"
"I didn't do this!" she screamed. "You did!"
"But you're letting it happen, and that's just as bad! Now, pick up my knife, and- urk!"
Suddenly a slim hand reached from nowhere and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head up. A knife blade appeared at his throat. Jo gasped in shock at the slender figure who had materialised behind Tymus.
"Give her the device, Tymus!" a soft, feminine voice hissed behind him.
Tymus swallowed, causing the razor sharp blade to nick his throat minutely. He winced. "Lucylla? Is that you?"
"It is. Stop wasting time and give them the device. It's been a long night, I'm too bloody tired to waste time arguing with you."
At that moment, David came running back into the room with a small wooden box. He gaped at the scene in front of him. Jo waved him back.
Tymus licked his lips. "I... I don't have it," he croaked.
"Bastard!" Jo spat, but Lucylla let go of Tymus's hair and held up a hand.
"Wait. I thought that would be the case." The hand disappeared for a second and came back up with something. "Here - catch!" She tossed the item through the air to Jo. She examined it cautiously. It was a slim white metallic box with a rubbery pad on one side.
"What is it?"
"A state-of-the-art medikit. It releases nanobots into the bloodstream that repairs most known forms of tissue damage. Place it over her forehead. Quickly, it doesn't work on the dead!"
Jo complied. She had little option now. She laid Katy flat and rested the box on its pad on her forehead. There was a minute whirr and a click and hair-thin metallic filaments slid from the box and slid into Katy's temples. The little girl jumped, eyelids flickering. Jo yelped.
"Don't worry," reassured Lucylla. "That's a perfectly normal part of the process. The nanobots are now entering her blood stream. The tissue damage will be repaired in minutes." Then she added: "Trust me."
Tymus cleared his throat. "Lucylla, I think there might be some sort of misunderstanding going on here..."
Lucylla looked down at him coldly. "Really? What's to misunderstand? You were about to allow that little girl to die slowly, weren't you?"
"It's never stopped us in the past - ouch! Steady on, love! I've only got one throat, you know!"
Lucylla dipped her face closer to Tymus's ear. "It might never have stopped you in the past, but it's certainly stopped me. I'm tired of this butchery, Tymus. I'm putting a stop to it. All of it!"
He managed a weak laugh. "Tired of this... Lucylla, what's come over you? You were - are - one of the best! Lavarre speaks of you with nothing but praise! Why, you're a legend among the murderer's fraternity!"
He laughed, but stopped when he realised she wasn't. He sighed. "C'mon, let's forget our little differences, whack these two, and go back to Lavarre with his presents. Then let's see who else we can do! Whaddaya say, huh?"
Lucylla studied him as someone might study a cancerous growth on a x-ray slide. "What do I say?" She dipped her lips closer to his ear and whispered:
"This is for Hayzel."
Tymus's eyes widened in realisation and he began to struggle wildly.
Lucylla looked up at Jo and David.
"I'd look away now if you don't like the sight of blood."
Then she drew the knife across his throat in one quick, slicing motion.
When the body stopped kicking, Lucylla stood up and slipped her knife away. She nodded apologetically to Jo. "Sorry about the mess. And sorry for not getting here sooner, but I was, er, unavoidably detained. How's your daughter doing now?"
Jo tore her eyes away from Tymus's corpse and looked down at Katy. "She's breathing better now and her colour is returning. I think she's going to be all right!" Emotion overwhelmed her and she buried her face in her hands, sobbing with relief. David knelt down beside her and put an arm around her, weeping softly as well.
"Hmmm, good," replied Lucylla absently. She crouched beside Mike Yates and checked him. "You'll live. Pity, if I'd known you were coming before..." she shook her head and stood up, going over to Jo and David. "David?" she said.
"Yes?"
"You'd better go and call for an ambulance. Both your sister and Captain Yates will require immediate medical attention. Quickly now, the phone in your parents' bedroom is still operational!"
David hurried off to comply. Lucylla helped Jo to her feet, and then plucked the medi-kit from Katy's brow. The filaments slid softly back into the box.
"She won't need that now. The nanobots will have repaired the worst of the damage. One of your hospitals is the best place for her now."
Jo hugged the girl close.
"Thank you, thank you... you saved all our lives!"
Lucylla blinked then smiled tightly and pulled back slightly from Jo's embrace, studying the woman's face almost regretfully. "Yes. Yes, I suppose I did, didn't I?" she said reflectively. She hugged Jo back, and whispered into her ear:
"But I wouldn't thank me just yet..."
She touched a control in her watch. There was a high-pitched buzz and they both shimmered and faded away...
Next: Desert Island Death
