They heard the Wellness Parade long before it finally came into view. The distant sound of a marching band, with trumpets, horns, fifes and drums, approaching along the main street. Then at last the band appeared; marching in perfect formation, smart red jackets, capes and hats, buttons gleaming in the sun. A dozen majorettes followed them; batons twirling; heads held high. Then a pair of kettle-drums and a piper in full livery.
All around the little square, the Villagers had come out of their shops and houses to watch the Parade go by. The Doctor, too, watched – through a grille cut into one of the big church doors. The angle was excellent, covering most of the square, as well as the approach from the street. He saw the procession arriving; heard the sound of applause from the crowd. But there was something rather odd about both the procession and the applause; as if the whole scene had been staged to be part of a larger performance. There was something too perfect about those majorettes in their pleated skirts, the band in their scarlet uniforms. The music was almost too precise; not a single wrong note or missed beat. Even the bystanders seemed part of the show; the Baker in his impeccable whites; the Butcher in a striped apron; the Postman he’d seen only minutes before, now shouting and throwing confetti as the first of the floats came into view.
A collection of giant Toys were sitting on a giant heap of bricks. There was a Bear; a Clockwork Clown; a Doll; a sad Pierrot; a Mouse. The figures were larger than human beings; perfect in every detail: the Doll, pink-cheeked and golden-haired, was scattering handfuls of wrapped sweets; the Clown was turning somersaults; and the grinning, capering Pierrot was throwing confetti into the crowd.
‘Extraordinary costumes,’ the Doctor said.
The Queen smiled, but did not reply.
Next came a troop of pink Ponies, trotting in time to the music. Their manes were plaited with multicoloured ribbons; their flanks were marked with rainbows and hearts. Next came another of the floats: Soldiers standing to attention, occasionally breaking formation to shoot streamers into the crowd. Next came a troupe of dancing Dwarves, dressed in Arthurian costumes. Next, a magnificent pirate ship, with a crew of ragged, drunken Pirates.
The Doctor watched in fascination as the Parade unfolded. It had taken him a few moments to realise what he was seeing, but now the picture was becoming clear. Through the grille, he could see the giant Bear and the clockwork Clown moving between the Villagers, handing out sweets, throwing streamers and marching alongside the Soldiers. It occurred to him that a child would love this colourful and eccentric Parade, and yet, among all the onlookers – a hundred people, maybe more – he could not see a single child.
‘Where are the children?’ he said to the Queen. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen any here.’
She shook her head. ‘You won’t,’ she said, and the sadness in her eyes stopped him from asking more questions.
Besides, on further inspection, he thought that maybe the entertainment was rather too sinister for a child. The Bear’s jaws opened in a grin, revealing rows of vicious teeth. The Clown’s eyes moved like machine-gun sights. The Doll, with her golden ringlets, sat on the flower-decked float and smiled. Her teeth were small and even, like the teeth of a circular saw. Her eyes, which were cold and cornflower-blue, gleamed in hungry merriment.
‘They’re not costumes, are they?’ he said.
Slowly, the Queen shook her head. At last, she told herself with relief, he was beginning to understand. If she could help him survive the week, then maybe he might have a fighting chance. If she could find him a place, somehow – something that would allow him to fit neatly into the community –
Suddenly she had an idea. ‘You could be the new Vicar!’ she said. ‘There are clothes in the vestry. You could live in the Vicarage. No one would guess you were from the Outside.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘My dear girl. Do I look like a vicar?’
She tried to explain. ‘But you’d fit in. You could be safe.’
He smiled. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid. I’m rather fond of my bow ties, and I don’t care much for dog collars. Not to mention the TARDIS, of course. The old girl’s been with me for a long time, and I’m not about to abandon her now.’
She sighed. ‘You’re being very difficult.’
‘You’re not the first person to notice, my dear.’
The Queen thought deeply for a while, her face constricted with anxiety. Finally, she came to a conclusion.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you. There’s a door at the back of the church. We can get out without being seen. After that, it’s a walk through the fields.’
‘That sounds remarkably simple,’ he said.
‘Trust me, Doctor,’ she told him. ‘It’s not.’