TTR / Storytime! Macbeth

Act 4

"Have you checked the next bit?" Jamie asked.

"We're going to need Banquo's ghost again," Samantha warned him, and handed over the familiar white sheet. "Give me the book and I'll get things going while you're changing."

[The palace at Forres. Sam Tyler is standing on the battlements while the camera swoops around him.]

Sam Tyler (vo) :
My name is Sam Tyler. I keep getting killed, and each time I wake up in the past. Am I mad? In a coma? Or somehow still walking around after I've died?

[David Bowie's "Dead Man Walking" (transcribed for bagpipes) plays, over a montage of shots of Sam talking to people in various parts of the castle, giving Macbeth and his wife suspicious looks, and trying to perform a forensic investigation of the place where Banquo was killed. As the song comes to an end, Sam is seen in a disused storeroom, scratching his notes on the floor with a knife. Nyssa is at the door, dressed as a Scots peasant girl and looking at him with an "I pity the crackpot" sort of expression.]

Sam Tyler :
No witnesses. No bloodstained clothing. No fingerprints. No tyre marks. No psychological profiling. No DNA matching. No CCTV footage. How are you supposed to prove anything in this time?

Nyssa [affecting a Scots accent, which she does very badly] :
I'm very sorry I couldnae be any more help to ye, master.

Sam Tyler :
I mean, when Banquo was found murdered, I was on the scene straight away, and I still couldn't make out what happened. It's as if one of these mediaeval thugs somehow managed to pinpoint and destroy every last bit of evidence.

[Behind him, Nyssa smiles quietly to herself.]

Sam Tyler :
Oh yes, everyone says Macbeth is as mad as a lorryload of ferrets, but that isn't going to stand up in court. And if I try to use any twentieth-century detective techniques I'll probably be burned as a witch.

Nyssa :
I could have—

Sam Tyler :
No, that's all right. It isn't your fault. Sorry I dragged you into all this, but I had to tell someone, and you've got a kind face. I know you don't believe half of what I'm saying. Honestly, I really do come from a place where there are wonders you couldn't begin to imagine, and I've got to face the possibility that I'll never get home.

[Nyssa's expression flickers slightly, but she keeps up the 'naïve peasant girl' act.]

Nyssa :
Indeed, master, tae be sure ye ken well how tae turn the heid of a simple crofter's daughter.

Sam Tyler :
Oh, dear. Cai- Cay-

Nyssa :
Caoimhe.

Sam Tyler :
Keavy, listen to me. I can't let anyone get too close to me. Back where I come from, there's...

Nyssa :
Ye mean ye've already got a wife at home? Ach, all ye men are alike. [She wipes away an imaginary tear.]

Sam Tyler :
I didn't mean... Look, you'd better get back home before your family miss you.

Nyssa :
Aye, master. [She adds, sotto voce, in her normal accent:] And how I stopped myself depolarising every protein in your body I shall never know.

Sam Tyler :
What?

Nyssa [fake Scots again] :
Nothing, master.

[She leaves. DI Tyler throws down his knife, stands, and stares at his handiwork.]

Sam Tyler :
I haven't come up with a single clue.
And all my yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Another thing.
How can I get dispatches from my time
When telephones and radios don't exist?

Samantha / Narrator :
Try sticking your ear in a seashell, wack.

[Sam jumps and looks around, trying to work out where the voice is coming from.]

Sam Tyler :
What? Who are you? What's going on?

Samantha / Narrator :
That's just what I was going to ask you. You're not part of the story.

Sam Tyler :
All right. Now I know I'm going off my head. [He begins shouting.] You're all figments of my imagination! You don't exist!

[He holds his clenched fists above his head, takes a deep breath and gives the next four words everything he's got, while the camera spins around him again.]

I! Deny! This! Reality!

[Story Space wavers for a moment, then reconstitutes itself.]

Samantha / Narrator :
You're a nutter. Go away.

Sam Tyler :
I'm dreaming. I must be. [He wanders off, muttering:] Not poppy, nor mandragora, nor all the drowsy syrups of the world...

"What's the delay?" Jamie asked from under his sheet.

"I dunno," Samantha said. "Turn your back for a minute and the story's full of coppers who think the whole thing's happening because they had cheese on toast before going to bed."

"What if he's right?" little Polly asked, looking quite upset at the thought. "What if we are all in his dream and he wakes up and we go pop like balloons?"

"Because there's no such thing as balloons that look like people," Susan reiterated.

"Look," Samantha said, before baby Tegan could renew that argument. "This isn't one of this bloke's dreams, because you were all here before he turned up in the story, all right? Anyway, if you want to hear the rest, keep your ears open and your gobs shut."

[Act 4, Scene 1. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. Thunder. Enter the three Witches.]

Movie-Susan :
Round about the cauldron go,
In the poisoned entrails throw.
Toad that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Sweltered venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i'th' charmed pot.

[She produces a soap bar shaped like a frog, and tosses it into the cauldron. It froths promisingly.]

"If the frog's her familiar, why did she throw him in the cauldron?" Martha asked.

"Well, perhaps that particular frog isn't her familiar," Samantha temporised. "Now shut your trap and listen, like I said."

All :
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Jackie [tossing in random props] :
Fillet of a rubber snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Cybermats and living fat,
Slime of Rutan, vampire bat,
Spectrox, Reset, Vraxoin,
Giant rat's tail and Reaper's wing
For a charm of powerful troubl
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

All :
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

[The cauldron is now beginning to gurgle quite alarmingly.]

Sarah [also tossing in random props] :
Bubblewrap that's painted green,
Tactless note to English Queen,
Craft materials from the school,
Nitro-nine and rocket fuel,
Spiders done with CGI,
Effluent-mutated fly,
Liquid ice and Doctor's wig,
Head of Dalek-enslaved pig,
Multi-purpose greenish slime,
Watch that's not for telling time,
Add a dash of vintage wine.
Finish off with something scrawled-on
Because it nearly rhymes with 'cauldron'.

[She throws in a chunk of Berlin Wall, which has 'Bad Wolf' written on it.]

All :
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

[By now the cauldron is humming ominously. Multicoloured bubbles rise from it.]

Jackie :
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is thick and good.
[She looks puzzled.] Is my character meant to be from Yorkshire?

[She pours in a bottle of brown liquid. The three witches peer nervously into the cauldron, which is emitting horrible groaning noises as if under immense pressure.]

Movie-Susan :
Is it supposed to do that?

Sarah :
Don't ask me.

Jackie :
This reminds me of the time Rose talked me into making toffee. We ended up having to throw the saucepan away.

[Enter Hecate and the other three Witches: Victoria (made-up with green blusher), Isobel (who has tried to make her figure more mumsy by shoving a cushion up her blouse), and the older Zoë from 'Fear of the Daleks'.]

Baby Zoë's face took on a look of intense concentration.

Izzy / Hecate :
O, well done! I commend your pains,
And everyone shall share i'th' gains.

Victoria :
Are you all right, Jamie?

Samantha / Narrator :
It's me. And we've got this whole thing well under control, so there's no need to panic. You lot should be doing a song and dance routine next, and frankly I can't wait to see what a disaster it turns out to be.

Izzy / Hecate :
Not according to this chit I have here.

[She produces a tatty piece of paper, and reads from it.]

"To whom it may concern, the musical numbers in 'Macbeth' were written by Thomas Middleton and you can leave them out for all I care. Signed, Will Shakespeare."

Right, let's get this potion finished.

Jackie [checking a list] :
We're up to three ounces of red-haired wench. Did any of you happen to bring one?

[They all look at Izzy.]

Izzy :
You're not putting me in there. We'll just have to make do with...

[She produces a small bottle, reads its label, and raises her eyebrows.]

With Doctor McTavish's Universal Horse Physick And Limescale Remover.

[She empties the bottle into the cauldron. The groaning gets worse. Much worse.]

Sarah :
Get down!

[They dive for cover. The cauldron erupts like a volcano; fireworks go off all around it.]

Jackie :
Hmmm. I still think that time with the toffee was worse.

[As the brew dies down, they pull themselves to their feet - except Isobel, who stays where she is.]

Zoë :
What's the matter?

Isobel :
I don't think those eels have quite given up yet.

Zoë :
Oh.

Isobel :
I'm going to sit quietly over here for a bit until I feel better.

Baby Zoë, her face still set in an expression of concentrated cunning, crawled over to whisper in the little Delgado Master's ear. Then she returned and sat at the front, now doing her best attempt at an innocent smile.

Jackie :
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.

[Enter Macbeth.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
How now, you secret, black and midnight hags,
What is't you do?

Sarah :
I've been wondering that ever since Act One, Scene One.

Jackie :
Look, we're going to put on a show for you, okay?

Turlough / Macbeth :
I suppose I might as well watch it now I'm here.

Movie-Susan :
Here goes, then.

[She produces something that looks like a remote control with black tape over the manufacturer's name, and presses a button on it.]

[Thunder. First apparition: an armed head. To be precise, the Face of Boe rises up out of the ground on a platform lift.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
Tell me, thou unknown power—

Movie-Susan :
He knows thy thought.
Hear his speech, but say thou naught.

Face of Boe / Armed Head :
Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth, beware Macduff,
Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.

[Apparition descends.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
Hang on a moment. Can I ask questions?

Movie-Susan :
He will not be commanded. Here's another,
More potent than the first.

[She clicks her remote control again. Second Apparition: a bloody child. Who in this case is represented by the sinister little girl with a balloon from 'Family of Blood'.]

Little girl / Second Apparition :
Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth.

Turlough / Macbeth :
Had I three ears I'd hear thee.

Little girl / Second Apparition :
That's rude. Balloon, snuggle him.

[The balloon drifts away from her and advances threateningly on Turlough, making a whistling noise like wind in a chimney.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
What the blazes?

[He draws his sword, and points it at the balloon; it rises out of reach, feints, dodges round him, and knocks the sword out of his hand.]

Movie-Susan :
You'd better say you're sorry, you know. It won't give up.

[The balloon roars, and resumes its advance on Turlough.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
All right! I'm sorry!

Little girl / Second Apparition :
That's much better. Come back here, balloon.

[The balloon returns to her hand.]

Little girl / Second Apparition :
Be bloody, bold and resolute. Laugh to scorn
The power of man, for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.

[Apparition descends.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
Right, so that just leaves evil balloons, the Daleks, the Sontarans, the Rutans, sentient seaweed, all sorts of robots, the Nestene Consciousness...

Isobel [climbing carefully to her feet] :
Don't forget jellied eels. [She hiccups] Sorry.

[Movie-Susan activates her remote control again. Thunder. Third apparition: A child crowned, with a tree in his hand. This consists of Judith Winters (the Dalek battle computer from 'Remembrance'), sitting in her chair with the helmet down over her face, and holding a flowerpot in which a tiny rhododendron cutting is growing.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
More creepy kids. Just what we need.

All the witches :
Shut up.

Dalek Battle Computer / Third Apparition :
Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.
Macbeth shall never vanquished be until
Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill
Shall come against him.

[The apparition descends. The witches all look at Turlough, expecting him to carry on.]

Turlough / Macbeth [after furiously concentrating] :
Let me have some time, I'll force this bit to finish in a rhyme.

[The witches slow-clap him.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
Right. Now is there a question-and-answer session?

Sarah :
Depends. What's the question?

Turlough / Macbeth :
Shall Banquo's issue ever reign in this kingdom?

All the witches :
Seek to know no more.

Turlough / Macbeth :
Come on, you're dying to tell me.

[Movie-Susan points her remote control at the cauldron. It sinks into the ground. Hautboys.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
Now what's going on?

[A Time-Space Visualiser rises up where the cauldron was. Banquo's Ghost, in his white sheet, is standing beside it.]

All the witches :
Show his eyes and grieve his heart,
Come like shadows, so depart.

[The visualiser shows the First, Second, Fourth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Atkinson and Tenth Doctors, all wearing crowns. After this the screen displays, in order, library images of James I, Charles I, Charles II, James II, the Old Pretender, the Young Pretender, Cardinal Henry Stuart, Charles Emmanuel IV, Victor Emmanuel I, Maria Beatrice of Savoy, Duke Francis of Modena, Queen Maria Theresia of Bavaria, Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria, Duke Albrecht of Bavaria, and Duke Franz of Bavaria.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
Horrible sight! Now I see 'tis true,
For the blood-boltered Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. At least he smiles
As much as I can see beneath that sheet.

[The visualiser sinks through the floor. Banquo's Ghost remains.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
What, is this so?

Izzy / Hecate :
If you didn't want to know, you shouldn't have asked, should you?

[Victoria turns to Banquo's Ghost.]

Victoria :
Do be careful, Jamie.

Izzy :
What she said. Because I'm going to be waiting for you at the end of the story, and if there's the slightest hint of trouble I'll—

Little Zoë made what she thought was a subtle gesture at the little Delgado Master. He nodded, and pinched baby Jo, who started to cry. Samantha put down the Complete Works and hurried over to sort them out...

Leaving the story at the mercy of any too-clever-by-half toddler who happened to have designs on her adult counterpart.

Little Zoë / Narrator :
Suddenly some rocks falled on Big Zoë.

[Styrofoam rocks fall on Zoë and bounce off, crushing her pointy hat.]

Zoë :
Samantha! Jamie! Anyone! Get her away from the Book!

Little Zoë / Narrator [giggling] :
Then a grand piano falled on her. An'... An'... An'... a bucket of icky stuff.

[A grand piano (made of balsa wood) lands on Zoë, knocking her to the ground. This turns out to be fortunate for her, because it means that most of the glue that follows ends up on the remains of the piano rather than on her. She crawls out of the wreckage looking every inch the infuriated madgirl, and gestures threateningly with what's left of her broomstick.]

Zoë :
Backslash! Renice twenty littlezoë! Exe!

Little Zoë / Narrator :
An' then she tripped over an' hurt... her... ank... [her voice slows down, like an underwound gramophone, and stops.]

Victoria :
What did you do?

Zoë :
Magic. We are witches, after all.

Victoria :
That wasn't magic. It was nonsense.

Zoë :
Tell that to Wiz Zumwalt. Samantha? Are you there?

Samantha / Narrator :
Yeah, I'm here. What did you do to mini-you? She's gone all slow-motion.

Zoë :
Little girls shouldn't be naughty. So I made her... nice.

Samantha / Narrator :
How long's it going to last?

Zoë :
Probably only until the story finishes.

Samantha / Narrator :
Better than nothing, I suppose. Would that work on the other kids as well?

Zoë :
I don't see why not. Backslash—

Izzy :
Cut that out. You're supposed to be helping me, not those two.

Samantha / Narrator :
Pity. Anyway, there's supposed to be a dance next. D'you think you can handle it, or are you gonna chicken out again?

Izzy :
All right. Since you did ask so nicely.

[Music. The witches do a few desultory dance steps (except Isobel, who just stands there looking queasy) and then vanish, with Hecate. As before, this involves crossing their hands over their hearts and dematerialising.]

Turlough / Macbeth :
OK, so I was wrong. That's something you do see every day.

[Enter Lennox.]

Ben / Lennox :
Thought you'd like to know, mate. Macduff's made off to England.

Turlough / Macbeth [aside] :
This is what comes of thinking too long before carrying out my evil plans. From now on, I'm going to do the first thing that comes into my head. [He thinks briefly.] Peri — oh, what a giveaway. Um. Need to prove I'm decisive. A congestion charge! No, that's ridiculous. Could I have a hint here?

Samantha / Narrator :
You could have someone killed.

Turlough / Macbeth [by now channelling Boris Johnson in a full-on panic] :
Yes. Have someone killed. That'll show them I mean business. Send out a clear message about my government's policy. Running away to England isn't allowed. Anyone who tries has their family killed. Yes. Strong policies for a better Scotland.

[He turns to Lennox.]

Go and get me Slaar and Ssard. [He thinks briefly.] And Tyler.

Jamie pulled the sheet off his head, threw it aside, and took the book back from Samantha. Samantha turned her attention to Little Zoë, who appeared to be having a slow-motion tantrum. Fortunately, she'd been slowed down so much that her screams of rage were at infrasound frequencies and completely inaudible.

[Act 4, Scene 2. Fife. Macduff's castle. Enter Macduff's wife, her son, and Ross.]

Steven :
I'm supposed to be your son?

Sara Kingdom / Lady Macduff :
Don't think too hard about it, Taylor. You might strain something. Anyway, Macduff isn't impressing me. First sign of trouble, he scarpers.

Brigadier / Ross :
I'm sure it's just a tactical withdrawal.

Sara / Lady Macduff :
Pfffft. If it's safe for us to stay here, why not him? And if it isn't, it's a bit careless of him to leave us here.

Brigadier / Ross :
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.

[He salutes and leaves.]

Sara / Lady Macduff :
He's well out of it. D'you fancy a game of poker to pass the time?

Steven :
No way. You took me to the cleaners last time we played.

[Enter a Messenger.]

Sam Tyler / Messenger :
Excuse me, can you spare a moment? Macbeth sent me. He says, can your husband come round to dinner on—

[Enter a second Messenger.]

Donna / Messenger :
Whatever it is, it can wait. You lot have got to get out of here right now. They're coming to kill you!

[She makes a run for it.]

Sara / Lady Macduff :
Run away? Not likely. This is a castle. Battle stations!

[A klaxon sounds. Men-at-arms rush through the hall.]

Sam Tyler / Messenger :
What's this? Who's coming to kill you?

Sara / Lady Macduff :
Who d'you think, blockhead? Macbeth's hired goons!

Sam Tyler / Messenger :
Macbeth... He's set me up!

Sara / Lady Macduff :
You're not the only one. Have you got a gun?

Sam Tyler / Messenger :
No. Wait a moment, you've got guns? But this is the middle ages!

Sara / Lady Macduff :
A Space Security agent has her gun with her at all times, on duty or off. If you're not armed you'd best stay in the keep out of harm's way.

Sam Tyler / Messenger :
All right, I'm going, before you both turn into jellyfish or something. [Aside] Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.

[The castle, seen from outside. The portcullis is lowered. The drawbridge is raised. Sara and Steven appear on the battlements, with blasters in their hands.]

[Enter Murderers. They approach the far side of the moat.]

Slaar / First Murderer [calling up to Sara] :
Where isss your husssband?

Sara / Lady Macduff :
Nowhere you're likely to meet him.

Ssard / Second Murderer :
Prepare to die. Ssssss.

[They open fire. Steven and Sara return fire. The castle is wreathed in smoke; huge explosions engulf the Ice Warriors. Very little can be seen.]

Slaar's voice :
Ssstand ssstill when we're ssshooting at you!

Sara's voice :
Oh, I don't think so. Let's see how well your armour does against rocket-propelled grenades.

[More explosions.]

"What happens if she wins?" Jamie whispered to Samantha.

"She's got to lose — it's in the story," Samantha replied.

Jamie / Narrator :
They fought bravely, but they were, um, hopelessly outnumbered.

[The silhouettes of more Ice Warriors are seen marching up to the castle, firing blindly. They are mown down by blaster fire.]

Slaar's voice :
We need air sssupport! Call in the sssship!

Steven's voice :
You know, I think I'm beginning to see the advantages of ketchup and pretending.

Sara's voice :
You big girl's blouse!

Steven's voice :
It's all right for you, you've got a card already.

[A Martian heavy battlecruiser glides down out of the sky and opens up on the castle with its sonic cannons. In a series of detonations the castle is reduced to rubble. Nothing could survive that.]

Jamie glanced over the next scene.

"That was close," he said. "I think we'll skip a bit here, Samantha. It's just talking."

"Is that because you think the kids'll get bored?" Samantha asked teasingly. "Or are you worried about all the long words?"

Jamie frowned. "I've not needed any help yet," he pointed out.

[Act 4, Scene 3. England. Before the King's palace. Macduff is sitting on a stone bench. Malcolm stands before him.]

Richard Mace / Malcolm [striking a pose] :
Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.

Jamie / Narrator :
We'll leave it at that. All this stuff wi' Malcolm and Macduff sitting about outside the palace swapping stories goes on forever. The children are never going tae wear it. So we're going tae skip ahead a bit.

Richard Mace / Malcolm :
What? But this scene contains some of my finest speeches! [He paces up and down, declaiming:]
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke.
It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds. I think withal...

Jamie / Narrator :
Och, put a sock in it.

Richard Mace :
Then, sir, I shall take my leave of you. You may, of course, attempt to procure an understudy, but I assure you his performance shall in no way be the equal of mine.

[He bows to the audience, and departs in high dudgeon.]

Jamie / Narrator :
Right. We need a new Malcolm.

[Mickey appears.]

Mickey :
Hang on. Who'm I supposed to be playing?

Jamie / Narrator :
Maol Chaluim mac Dhonnchaidh, Prince of Scots.

Mickey :
What? Not the tin dog? Not the comic relief?

Jamie / Narrator :
No. So make the most of it.

Mickey / Malcolm :
Don't you worry. I will. [He strikes an heroic attitude, and begins to declaim, in a manner that makes Mace's acting look positively restrained.]
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
Already at a point, was setting forth.
Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?

Ninth Doctor / Macduff :
I wasn't sure if you'd finished.

Mickey / Malcolm :
Well, more anon.

Jamie / Narrator :
Don't count on it. And we can do without the bit where everyone says how lovely the King of England is as well.

[Enter Ross.]

Brigadier / Ross :
Does that mean I'm on already?

Jamie / Narrator :
Aye.

Ninth Doctor / Macduff :
My ever-gentle cousin! Fantastic! How's Scotland these days?

Brigadier / Ross :
Things are pretty bad there. I think, if you [turning to Malcolm] were there, a rebellion might have quite a good chance of success.

Mickey / Malcolm :
Be't their comfort
We are coming thither. Gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men.

Brigadier / Ross :
Splendid chaps, all of them. But now for the bad news.

Ninth Doctor / Macduff :
Oh, so there's bad news, is there? Go on, get it over with.

Brigadier / Ross :
Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes
Savagely slaughtered. To relate the manner
Were on the quarry of these murdered deer
To add the death of you.

Victoria burst into floods of tears. So did Rose and Dodo. Samantha hurried to Rose to comfort her, prompting Victoria and Dodo to go all-out for hysterics. There was some delay before the play could resume.

Mickey / Malcolm :
Merciful Heaven!
What, man, ne'er pull your hat upon your brows.
Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break.

Ninth Doctor / Macduff :
Oh, shut it.

Mickey / Malcolm :
Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief
Convert to anger: blunt not the heart, enrage it.

Ninth Doctor / Macduff :
Don't you worry about that, Ricky. [He reaches behind the stone bench, pulls out the Dalek-killing gun from 'Dalek', and cocks it.] Macbeth's a dead man.

[Exeunt.]

"What's all this?" Jamie asked. He'd had to take little Victoria and Dodo into the lobby and wait for their hysterics to subside. On his return he'd found a large tin bath, half full of water, into which the children seemed to be throwing anything they could get their hands on.

"We're making a magic potion," said Baby Romana. "It's going to be the bestest magic potion ever."

Jamie shot Samantha a look in which inquiry and concern were blended.

"Look, I had to keep them busy somehow," she said. She glanced sternly at Nyssa. "And I made sure no-one put anyone else in."

"Aye, and what d'ye think Izzy'll say when she sees all this?" He picked a sodden gonk out of the bathtub. "Yon puir wee beastie'll never be the same again."

"It's a bit late to worry about Izzy now," Samantha said. "Perhaps you're not as fearless as you think?"

Jamie bridled. "We'll have tae get this lot tidied up before she comes back, or she'll think we can't keep order."

"Look, Jamie. They're just kids. They're harmless."

"Oh, ye think so? Hang on, what's that?"

Baby Liz finished emptying a bag of white powder into the bath. The water began to froth disconcertingly.

"Calcium carbide," she said proudly. "We're ready for the potassium now."

Nyssa tipped the contents of a tiny phial into the water. A column of purple flame leaped up from the bathtub and licked against the ceiling. Jamie and Samantha hurled themselves to the floor.

"Ace!" shouted little Ace. Along with most of the other children, she capered about wildly. Dodo decided to indulge in a renewed bout of hysterics.