Sarah Pinborough - Into the Silence

Adrienne Scott's head was thumping, and even though she'd got up for water in the night she still felt as if her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if she'd stopped after the bottle she'd shared with Katherine in the pub, but instead she'd come home and opened another one. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she was regretting it now.

Pulling up a chair, she sat by the window and watched as Ceri eased Ryan's arms out of the stripy, long-sleeved T-shirt that he'd managed to get most of his breakfast down. Eating and singing didn't go together and, since Ryan wouldn't stop one, Ceri had to virtually shove the food into his throat to force him to swallow as a reflex while doing the other. Ryan ate a lot of soft foods. And Adrienne avoided visiting at mealtimes. It was hard enough accepting Ryan's unusual ways as it was. She wasn't cut out for the messy stuff. Even with her own son it made her feel sick. But then that was hardly a surprise. She was, after all, a bad mother .

As the nurse tugged the clean top over his small blond head, the volume of Ryan's song increased, maybe hinting at some anxiety within, but even then he was note perfect.

Adrienne flinched and rubbed her head. The noise wasn't helping her hangover, regardless of how in tune his rendition of 'Walking In The Air' was. Trying to ignore the tremble in her hand as she reached for the cup of sweet coffee Ceri had made her, Adrienne wondered how many times Ryan had worked his way round that CD in the two days since her last visit. She was surprised Ceri hadn't been driven mad.

The shirt on, Ryan's singing reverted to its normal level, the little boy's perfect blue eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. He hadn't glanced her way since she came in, but that came as no surprise. He never acknowledged her. Maybe she should just stop coming.

She'd suggested as much to Ceri once, and the nurse had just smiled at her and said that was her prerogative but it wouldn't happen. Adrienne had asked her why, and Ceri had said because Ryan was her son and, as much as she might not always know it, she loved him. Adrienne had wanted to laugh out loud at that.

Letting her hangover throb, Adrienne looked at the little boy sitting in the middle of the room, ignoring his toys and singing so perfectly. Did she love him? Could she love him? How could you love someone that refused to accept anyone else's existence and gave no sign of any recognition, even of his own mother? How could she pour love into a child like that?

Sighing, she turned her gaze to the window and out into the rain. They were thoughts for another time, when she wasn't feeling quite so rough. Still, it was nearly eleven and time to go, her penance done for another day. Trying unsuccessfully to zone out the singing, she stared at the grey skies and sipped her coffee.

Alone in the Hub, Gwen watched as the hands on the large round face of the clock ticked on to eleven o'clock. This was it. The silence had started. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, defying the command for quiet, and she chewed her lip as she stared at the screen.

Come on, she thought. Come on . Patience was not her strongest point, and she fought the urge to kick the machine. A mile or so away, Ianto would be launching into song; him, Jack and Cutler all waiting for information from her. Her stomach flipped. What if she hadn't made it work better? What if she'd actually messed it up?

Clenching her teeth, she tossed her hair angrily over one shoulder. This was why she hated being stuck at the Hub. There was too much bloody thinking time. Out in the field where she belonged, you didn't have time to think. You just acted . And it was easier that way.

There was too much helpless responsibility back here. What if something went wrong? Was she just supposed to sit here and listen in while the alien ripped her friend apart? She huffed under her breath. This was the first and last time she'd ever let herself have any clever technical ideas. And if she did have any more, then she'd bloody well keep them to herself. If there really had been a ghost of Tosh watching over her, then the other woman would probably be laughing right now. Gwen had none of Toshiko's cool, methodical thinking. Maybe Tosh's spirit had planted the idea in Gwen's head in the first place as some kind of beyond-the-grave joke. Maybe she and Owen were rolling around invisibly giggling at her on the Hub floor. Even though she didn't believe in life everlasting or hauntings on Earth, alone and nervous as she was, Gwen still found the idea a little creepy.

Something on the screen flickered, and the imagined ghostly laughter stopped. A tiny spike flashed to the far right of Cardiff Bay.

This was it.

The alien was coming.

Two more small spikes flickered in and out of existence. She touched her earpiece.

'Jack?' Her voice was too loud, echoing back at her in the empty basement building. 'It's starting.'

Standing up, she folded her arms across her chest and willed the machine to spit out the appearance location.

Three more small spikes appeared, and then finally the red light she'd been waiting for glowed, the map automatically zooming in to highlight the address.

Gwen frowned. But that couldn't be right. That wasn't where Jack and Ianto were. Her hand went back to her earpiece.

'Jack. We've got a problem.'

His voice filled the church and, although the baritone wasn't supposed to sing the piece alone, Ianto was making it work as best he could. Jack was surprised at the richness of the sound and the power carried in it. He was impressed. But then Ianto had proved himself several times over to be quietly full of surprises. Gwen's voice cut into his thoughts.

'Jack. We've got a problem.'

'What do you mean?'

'It's coming, but not to you. The computer says it's going to Havannah Court. The Havannah Court Autism Centre.'

Looking up at the iconic images of the saints that peered down at him from the undamaged stained-glass windows, Jack fought an urge to scream. 'Are you sure?'

'That's what the bloody computer says.' She paused. 'Hell.' Gwen's voice sweated urgency in his ear. 'We've got less than eight minutes, Jack. I'm closer than you. I'll meet you there.'

'I'm on my way.' Running up the aisle towards the door, Jack heard Ianto's voice waver behind him. Not that it mattered. 'Havannah Court!' he called over his shoulder. 'I'll go with Cutler!'

Outside the rain lashed him with wet streaks, as if nature itself were siding with the alien and the Rift to foil their attempts to stop the chaos. His legs pumping, he raced towards Cutler's unmarked police car. They had no more than six minutes left. They weren't going to make it. Yanking the door open, he leapt inside.

'Why can't anything ever go according to plan?' Cutler demanded as Jack slammed the passenger door shut.

'Welcome to Torchwood.'

Cutler fired up the engine and the tyres squealed, burning against the tarmac.

Ryan had moved from 'Walking In The Air' to 'Where Is Love?' and was now starting 'Close Every Door' from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat . The room filled with the mournful quality of the opening notes and, looking out into the trees and gardens of the centre, Adrienne idly thought that Jason Donovan would never have been able to come close to the emotionally perfect delivery her boy gave it. She should make a move and head to chambers where there was a stack of work waiting for her, but outside the heavens had opened, and she thought she'd wait for the downpour to slacken before leaving. She could only imagine what the receptionist would have to say to the nurses otherwise. That eager to leave she got herself soaking wet. And her a barrister too. It's a crying shame. Bad mother. Why give them the ammunition? And, to be honest, her hangover was still that bad, she couldn't bring herself to move from the chair. Her body felt like there was a lead weight in it. Driving had been no fun earlier, and she'd thought an abrupt brake might make her throw up all over her steering wheel.