Second sentence of third chapter:
Back in the good old days, he’d soon learnt that if he left a row of glasses out of the washer for more than five minutes, they’d develop a dry red skin that would have to be rubbed away before any drinks could be poured. Not that it had been such a problem in the old days. Some nights, the glasses barely seemed to touch the shelves before somebody or other was yelling for the same again, Colesy. Now he barely even got them out of the washer; most nights the bar was empty. Most nights since Sheriff had broken the news to them. For a while they’d kept on with it, drowning their sorrows, trying to divine the future in the dregs of a vodka shot, but that had soon stopped. It had become too uncomfortable, glancing round, catching the eye of your neighbour.
Fan opinion is sharply divided between “Wow!” and “Meh” on this Seventh Doctor novel featuring Ace and the ultimate fate of Mel Bush. I’m afraid I’m pretty firmly on the side of “Meh”; the Western-style decrepit town is described at great and loving length, there is cloning and a walking talking dolphin, but I am one of those people who requires to be convinced that the Seventh Doctor’s Bleak!Doctor phase was a great moment for the show, and I remain unconvinced.
Looking forward now to Loving the Alien by Mike Tucker and Robert Perry, next month’s Seventh Doctor read.
Ah yes. Rather proves my point…