We was in a huge great chamber, so full of steam that at first it was hard to make out anything save for that hellish red glow. But then things began to come clear and I took in the horrible sight before us. At the far end of the chamber was the iron-strutted base of the great Mill chimney and ’Grims was hard at work around it, swarming like black-coated bees, so I pulled the Doctor back against the wall so as not to be seen. Then I saw something else, dominating the middle of the room: a massive vat – like a witch’s cauldron – full of a strange, reddish stuff that plebbled and burped like infernal soup. Steam rose from it in a genie-column and it was sort of glowing. Glowing like the Doctor’s skin.

Over the vat was a huge metal arm, like a crane or a gallows. There was something hanging from it – and I shudder at the memory of the sight: about a dozen or so people, out cold, the lot of them, and hanging there like wooden splints in a match factory. And, like the splints, these poor beggars was going to be dipped!

I heard the Doctor groan as the metal arm lowered with a screeching sound and slowly lowered the unfortunates into the gloop like so many toffee-apples.

‘Oh my Gawd,’ I whispered and looked at the Doctor.

He slowly nodded his creaking head as if to answer my unspoken question. Yes. That’s what they did to me!

I grabbed his arm and tried to drag him back towards the door but he resisted. I might as well have tried to move a brick wall. He was pointing ahead – his arm like a signpost – and I saw a smaller room beyond another door. ‘What is it? You want to go there?’

He nodded feebly so I managed to drag him forward and into the smaller chamber, a room filled with rows of metal cases like coffins – only coffins with glass pipes sticking out from them. I shut the door behind us and the relief from the noise and clatter was wonderful.

The Doctor pointed towards the cases.

‘You want to go in there?’

Again, he groaned and nodded then staggered forward, clutching his coat. I looked round, keeping an eye out for the ’Grims and then pulled open the door of one of the coffin things. The Doctor practically fell inside and, his arm creaking like an old wooden joint, he dragged something from the pocket of the coat. I knew it of old. His sonic screwdriver! As I slammed the metal door of the cabinet on him, the round grille on the front lit up with a greenish glow and the glass tubes that covered it started to steam and bubble.