It was 2:45am on the 15th November 1963 - a
cold, foggy night, and a shadowy figure of a man dressed in black
emerges from the doors of a junkyard at 76 Totters Lane. Slowly, he
moves through the mists of the night winding round the London streets,
until he stops in front of a green metal housing for telephone cabling.
The man, pulls a small, silver coloured device from his inner coat
pocket and holds it in front of the green housing and pushes a button. A
pulsating light, together with a whirring sound, casts itself over the
housing, and with a few sparks, the doors shoot open. The man looks to
his left, and then to his right, making sure he hasn't been noticed, and
proceeds to collect some components.
One road away, a local policeman is on patrol. Armed only with a torch,
he paces the streets in search of anything out of the ordinary, intent
on having something to report to his superior in the hopes of an
upcoming promotion. As he turns the corner of Turpin Road, the
electricity cables overhead begin to hum. Suddenly, electrical flashes
begin to converge down the mast onto a manhole cover below. The
policeman, noticing the electrical surges, guides his torchlight to the
manhole cover where bolts of electricity form an orb, and then, in a
flash, disappear. The torch flickers, and the policeman knocks the front
and repoints the light toward the manhole. There, standing in front of
him was a shaggy haired man, dressed in strips of leathery material and
a sharp pointed stone attached to his waist. His facial appearance was
haggard, and as his eyes adjusted to the torchlight in front of him, he
darted his head and stared directly at the policeman.
Meanwhile on the neighbouring street, the shadowy figure finishes
collecting his components and just as he considers closing the doors of
the green housing, realises he's left a loose connection. "Dear, dear!"
he mutters to himself, in an elderly voice. He tuts and continues "No,
no, no, now that won't do at all…". He reproduces his silver device,
aims it at the cabling, and presses the button once more. As the light
and whirring sound begin again, he hears a simultaneous bang on the
At the same time, the policeman takes a few steps towards the unsavoury
figure in front of him as electricity begins to spark around him. "Get
away from that mast!" he shouts to the leather-clad man, "Aint you got
no home to be gettin' to? You'll catch your death of cold dressed in
that thing and all!". He rolls his eyes and exclaims "Fancy dress
indeed!, Come on - off with you, it aint safe here!". Another loud bang
and streams of electricity once more converge down the mast towards the
manhole cover, surrounding the shaggy-haired man, who suddenly
disappears into thin air.
The policeman notices another man standing at the end of the street,
pointing a silver object at the telephone mast. "Come here!" shouts the
policeman, startling the figure dressed in black. He gives chase and the
elderly man winds his way through the streets back to the junkyard at
Totters Lane. As he walks briskly, the silver object drops from his coat
onto the street below, and rolls to the edge of the curb, and slows,
before dropping into the gutter hole.
The elderly man slips through the gates of 76 Totters Lane, leaving the
cold and mists of the night behind him.
The policeman enters the
clearing outside Totters Lane junkyard and shines his torch around
looking for the man, but sees and hears nothing...
© Copyright Sebastian J. Brook, Andy
W. Clift & Doctor Who Online, 2012.
Sebastian J. Brook
Andy W. Clift
Sebastian J. Brook