The New Doctor! A Doctor Who Alternate History Story

Part 56 - David Burton 'Remembering Paul' December, 1998

I remember attending Paul's funeral. I hadn't seen him in a year or so. We'd spoken on the phone though and it was always civil enough. Paul and I got along the best, after the show ended, the rest of them, we weren't on speaking terms. Except for Barry and Paul, of course. And Ian and Paul.

Well, now that I think of it, I think none of the rest of us were on speaking terms with each other. Except for Paul. Paul was the one that we were all on good terms with. Funny that.

Everyone was there at the funeral. From the show, from the BBC show, from stage. Paul had a lot of friends. That's something isn't it. He lived his life as a gentleman, and when he passed, everyone who had known him... well, we all knew someone good was passed out of the world. We were all a little poorer for it.

I made a special trip in, I don't remember the Church, St. Marks, I think. I saw Ian there, and Barry, at the service. They were just happened to be seated in the same pew. Ignoring each other. I came over, and I said "I guess the four musketeers are three now." They both smiled, not real smiles, just the sort of smile you give when you're acknowledging someone is trying to be nice, even if you don't feel it. But they shoved over.

It rained at the funeral, not hard, but we all needed our umbrellas. Somehow, we all ended up just standing together for the procession and the burial.

When it was over, we shook hands.

I had a trip back to Sussex, and it was cold and wet and I didn't want to light out right away. It was miserable enough. I wanted a few minutes warmth before I hit the road. So I asked them to join me for a drink. A glass of wine in memory of Paul.

I could see Barry didn't want to. But Barry was always such a gracious man, he couldn't say no. So he said, 'one glass, for Paul.'

Ian was just watching us. I think he expected a 'fuck off, fat boy' or something. He looked lonely. I said 'the three of us, for Paul.' And there was a moment, when I could see him both wanting and not wanting too. I wasn't his favourite person.

But he threw in.

So we went off, and just sat. It was awkard at first, just sitting there. But we got to talking about Paul, and it warmed up a little. We started talking about the show, and one glass of wine turned to another. We remembered the good times, and then it was funny, we remembered the bad times too, but they weren't so bad. I guess time and distance softened it. The rows we had, they were almost funny, fondly remembered, all the sting out of them. All those arguments, the struggles, the fights. It was just over and done with, you know, and we didn't have to keep on fighting the old battles again. We could move on.

We let it go. What's the point of holding on to anger. Whatever it was, good and bad, it was all done and finished. Stick to the good memories.

I remember, Barry apologized to Ian for that big blow up. I can't count the number of times that Barry apologized for that over the years, it really did bother him. But this is the first time I that Ian accepted it. I mean not the 'screw you, I accept your apology' sort of thing, but really accepted it, accepted Barry's contrition and forgave him. You could feel the weight finally being lifted off both of them. It wasn't big and sloppy, it was just a quiet moment, but I felt honoured to be there for it.

We both acknowledged that Ian had made a real difference, had made contributions to the show. That was such a big deal to him. To finally get that validation.

It was a big deal for each of us, to finally come back to it after all these years, to these people you'd worked along side of and fought, and to feel that respect and affirmation from each other. I'd fought with Barry, Barry had fought with Ian, Ian had fought with me. We couldn't give an inch back in those days, it would have felt like a surrender to say 'good job.' But finally, we were saying it, acknowledging it to each other, appreciating what each of us had done, had brought. It mattered, I'm not sure why that was so hard to say before then.

In the center of it had been Paul, the beating heart of the show, maybe fighting with and along side of all of us, but somehow, he had been keeping us all together. No matter how bad it got, we kept going together, and Paul had been such a huge part of that. We missed him.

We took a lot longer than we figured that afternoon. There were many drinks for Paul. I ended up overnighting in London, too drunk to drive. But when we finished and stood up to go I think we all felt the better for it. We might never speak again, but it was okay, we had a sense of resolution, the three of us.

That's the thing with good men. You don't understand how much they meant, how much they mattered, until its over.