Storytime: Macbeth

Chapter 9: Fourth Interlude

Interlude 4

Isobel pulled the cushion out of her blouse, and threw it aside. It blew a raspberry.

"I thought we did that rather well," she said.

Victoria wiped the last of the green makeup from her face. "Weren't we going to try to influence the story?"

"Oh yes, we were, weren't we? Frankly, I don't think we stood a chance. You might as well try to influence a bandersnatch." Isobel turned to Zoë. "Quite apart from your younger self doing her best to distract us all. I can see why you're scared of her."

Zoë, who'd already reverted to her usual twentyish appearance, frowned. "I'm not scared of her. She can just be very annoying."

"Can't imagine why that would be," Isobel said, trying to hide a smile.

"And what's a bandersnatch?"

"I'll explain later. Izzy, do you need us for anything else?"

"I think you'd all better wait here until the story's finished," Izzy said. "Watch a video or something. I'm going shopping. Don't worry, I'll see myself out."

She left. A few moments later the distant sound of farmyard noises could be heard as the front door was opened and closed.

"What did she mean, shopping?" Victoria asked.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Isobel said. "Did you see her expression? I wouldn't like to be in Jamie's shoes when she catches him."

Victoria put her hand to her mouth. "Then hadn't we better follow her and make sure she doesn't do anything rash?"

"No, we've got to stay here," Zoë said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because Izzy told us to."

"But why do we have to do what Izzy tells us?"

Zoë rubbed her forehead, looking puzzled.

"Because... she's Hecate... and we're witches... so we have to do what she says until the story's finished?"

The other two nodded. Somehow, the logic seemed unassailable.

*

Izzy looked dubiously at what appeared to be a set of brass knuckles, attached to a golden disc with a sinister-looking red gem at its centre.

"That was sent over by my cousin Sam," Alexander Carter explained. "She comes across them from time to time in her work."

"I don't think it's quite what I'm looking for," Izzy said. She glanced over the shelves. "Ah. Now, what about this?"

"An amusing curio, isn't it?" said Carter. "It comes from great-uncle Horace's collection. According to his notes, he found it when he was potholing in Kentucky."

"I'll take it," Izzy said.

*

Five minutes later, she was approaching the crèche once more; this time, she hoped, armed for bear. The Daleks were still standing there, as oblivious as ever.

"SITUATION. GREEN," their leader reported.

"Yes, I know." Izzy aimed her purchase at the nursery door. "Alohomora."

She marched through the door—

*

—And was standing in sunlit woodland.

After she'd spent the day wreathed in sea mist, the sunlight should have been a welcome change. Her actual thoughts, though, were more along the lines of "There must be more to this magic stuff than just pointing and saying foreign words," followed closely by "Where have I managed to land myself this time?"

She surveyed her surroundings. Deciduous woods. A road, leading away in both directions, utterly bereft of signposts, markings or traffic. No telephone kiosk or anything that might be the slightest help. She checked her pocket and found the mobile telephone was still there, but when she turned it on the only result was a 'no signal' message. Not really a surprise; mobile reception in the vicinity of Nameless was patchier than the Sixth Doctor's coat.

It looked as if she still wouldn't be able to get into the crèche until the story was over. Not only that, but it would probably have finished and the perpetrators escaped long before she could get back and give them what for. That wasn't an excuse to give up, though. She chose a direction at random and set out along the road.