Many of the early BBC Doctor Who novels were rather dire and dull. This is, sadly, no exception. It starts off aching with promise, and then just yawns to a conclusion. It's just not probable - why, if you were an evil mastermind intent on world domination, would you invite the Doctor to stay in your country house just because he popped up in the grounds? If you simply had to have him around, couldn't you at least put him up in a B&B nearby so that you can get on with your sinister midnight scheming? It's just one of those books where you end up dutifully suspending your disbelief so much you stop believing in the book entirely. And then you wonder why you're bothering.