Don't Blink - 18/?
Title: Don't Blink - 18/?
Characters: Rose, Ten
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor? How would they get back to their proper time? Would they want to?
Rating: PG
Beta: nattieb
~ One~ Two~ Three~ Four~ Five~ Six~ Seven~ Eight~ Nine~ Ten
~ Eleven~ Twelve~ Thirteen~ Fourteen~ Fifteen~ Sixteen~ Seventeen
Rose woke up alone on Monday morning. The Doctor was gone. She hadn’t expected him to stay with her overnight. He never slept, and sharing the same bed was the sort of intimacy he never would have stooped to before. Their current situation put their relationship on a level they had never previously explored, and Rose was rather relieved to be on her own.
She padded through the flat but saw no sign of him. She made herself breakfast and straightened up. The kitchen was in exactly the same shape as it was the night before when she’d gone to bed. Rose wasn’t even surprised to find it such a mess. The notion of the Doctor actually putting things away and cleaning up was mind-boggling. Housekeeping was the sort of domestic activity that was far beneath him.
She took a quick bath and got ready for work, putting on a blue shirtwaist dress that had tiny white buttons and a white belt that fastened very tight around her waist. Rose longed to wear the blue hip-hugger trousers she’d found in a shop around the corner from work. They were much closer to what she used to wear than dresses or bellbottoms, but they were too casual for work. The Doctor assured her that fashions would begin to loosen up soon, but she suspected that as long as she worked in retail, she would have to dress more formally. Or at least until her own shop began carrying them. Maybe she should talk with Iris.
She delayed going to work as long as she could, but the Doctor didn’t return. She wasn’t worried about him, but she was a bit surprised that he hadn’t left her a note. She had no way of knowing how long he’d been gone, either. Finally she packed up a lunch and headed out. She bumped into Jeff as she walked down the stairs.
“Sorry! I didn’t see you.” Rose juggled her bag and her lunchbox, trying in vain to keep them from falling.
“No, it was my fault.” Jeff handily caught her lunchbox and handed it back to her. “How was your weekend?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Good.”
They had continued down the stairs as they spoke. Once in the small foyer they both slowed down.
“What is that?” Rose asked, standing on the last stair.
“I...I don’t know.” Jeff moved closer to have a look.
A dark red liquid streaked across the wall. Rose was repulsed by it, and she couldn’t help the irrational stab of fear she felt as she looked at it.
“It looks like blood.” Her voice shook, and again she wondered where the Doctor was.
Jeff looked up and down the hallway. “I don’t see any more.”
“Do you think it’s blood?” Rose persisted.
“It could be,” he allowed, and she shivered.
A tall woman dressed in a pink suit strode briskly down the hallway from the first floor flats. She slowed down when she saw them.
“What’s going on?”
Jeff gestured to the wall. She looked, took in the stain, and curled her mouth in disgust.
“What’s that?”
“We don’t know,” Jeff replied. “Any ideas, Sandra?”
“It looks like blood.” She eyed Jeff as if he were responsible.
“Well, it could be paint or something,” Rose said. The woman, who was very pretty, now stared at Rose as though it were Rose’s doing. Rose decided that she didn’t like this neighbor very much.
Before anyone could decide what the next step should be, the door to the landlady’s flat opened. She was holding a sponge and stopped in surprise when she saw the group in the foyer.
“Good morning! Are you holding a tenants’ meeting here in the hallway?” She chuckled at her joke,
Jeff shook his head. “Mrs. MacMurray, there’s a big stain out here, and-”
“Oh, yes.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid that was me.”
“What is it?” Sandra asked sharply.
“Why, just some paint, my dear. I’ve been painting my sitting room. I came out here when I heard a noise, and I was so clumsy - I carried my paintbrush out with me and brushed the walls with it. I’ve been cleaning it up.”
Sandra relaxed. “If that’s all it is, you’ll excuse me. I’m running late.” She threw Jeff a glare as she left the building.
Jeff looked doubtful. “Shall I get that for you, Mrs. MacMurray?”
“Goodness, no! Just because I’m old enough to be your granny doesn’t mean I can’t do a spot of cleaning!” She brandished the sponge at him. “Off you go!”
Rose smiled at her. “I hope you get the job done.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will. Have a good day.”
When Rose glanced behind as she left the building, Mrs. MacMurray was carefully wiping up the spill. Jeff was waiting for her. The postman came in as she was going out, and she held the door open for him.
“Good morning, Joe.”
“Morning, Rose! Enjoy your day!”
Jeff looked at Rose in amusement as they started down the street. “You know the postman’s name?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’ve lived here two years and never knew it.”
“That just makes you unfriendly.”
He snorted. “Hardly. Can you imagine what a fright of a sitting room that must be?” he continued. “Red! Who has a red room? My mum doesn’t believe in anything darker than pink or blue anywhere in the house.”
Rose grinned. “Maybe she’s trying to liven things up.”
“I won’t be taking decorating tips from her.”
“Jeff,” Rose said impulsively. “Have you seen the Do - my - John?”
“Not since we went to the cinema. Did he leave without saying goodbye?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, where does he usually hang around? Maybe he’s at the library, or the university.”
The fact that the Doctor did not frequent those places did not make Rose feel better. The student he was pretending to be might, but he was never one to throw himself into a role.
“It’s just a project he’s working on. I’m sure he’ll be back.”
“Well, why wouldn’t he come back? You’re here.” Jeff glanced at his watch. “I’m running behind. See you later.”
Rose walked to work, scanning the streets for the Doctor. Things had been going along in the normal fashion between them. And then they had kissed. And then things went back to normal - if normal meant never mentioning the one thing that was staring them both in the face. Rose didn’t know if the Doctor regretted his actions, was avoiding the issue because he avoided most serious, emotional issues, or if he’d genuinely forgotten that the kiss had happened.
She didn’t know which one would be the worst.
She didn’t spot him on the way to work, and she was feeling oddly depressed as she walked into the shop. The mood lasted long enough for her to take in the loud sounds coming from next door.
Rose rang the after-hours bell and waited. After a moment Iris appeared to unlock the door and let her in.
“Good morning, Rose!”
“Good morning!” Rose called back. “What’s all this?”
Iris locked the door again and gestured for Rose to follow her into the office.
“Mr. Troy is starting renovations. They’re gutting out the shop next door. It should be loud, but not messy.”
Rose glanced at the wall. “Are they tearing apart the whole place?”
Iris shrugged. “I’m getting a headache, and I’ve been here twenty minutes.”
Rose put her bags away and listened. “What’s he got planned for the shop?”
“He’s expanding, but he hasn’t told me too much. He wants to carry a men’s line, but I don’t think we’ll have enough room. Maybe we can persuade him to carry more sportswear and casual wear. Then we wouldn’t have to hire a man.”
“Oh, I’d love some more casual wear!” Rose said enthusiastically.
Iris smiled. “You sound like the weekend help. Most of the clothes here are all stuffy, they say.”
“They’re not all that bad.” Rose glanced around as she spoke. The merchandise wasn’t up to the minute trendy, but that was a good thing. Everything was modern but in good taste. She actually thought most of it was cute, but she would never resign herself to polyester.
Although Iris wasn’t in polyester, was she? Rose looked more closely at her manager’s outfit. As usual, Iris was dressed with the greatest of taste. Nothing too short or trendy for her. The cut of her dress was a simple shirtwaist, like Rose’s, but her dress was made of silk and buttoned up all the way to her throat, while Rose had left the top two buttons of her dress undone. Iris filled in the space above her dress with a necklace consisting of multiple strands of pearls, and her dark hair was up in its usual twist.
Rose contrasted Iris with the appearance of the girls who worked in the shop where she’d purchased her hiphuggers and tight t-shirts. Those girls were decked out in minis and knee-high boots.
“They are if you’re in high school.” Iris glanced at her watch. “I’m going to unlock the doors. Will you count the till for me?”
“Sure.”
The morning passed slowly. Rose counted the till to make sure it balanced. She set up new displays, helped customers and hung dresses up from the fitting room. Her attention was only partly on these tasks. She couldn’t stop looking at the door, watching for someone who wasn’t coming.
“Are you all right?” Iris finally asked. “You’ve been distracted all day.”
Rose shrugged. The shop was empty, and the classical music Iris normally had playing was being overrun by the pop music coming from next door. Whoever was working in the future Helio space needed to play the radio loud enough for the music to be heard over the sound of the tools, and they had a decided taste for pop music.
Iris frowned in annoyance. “That music is such a pain!”
“Don’t you like the Beatles?” Rose asked. “Or Elvis?”
“Of course I like them! It’s not that I don’t like music. It’s just so loud. And I don’t know what Mr. Troy means to do, so I’m all on edge about it. I hate not being in control of what happens.”
Rose smiled. “Sometimes it’s better not to know what’s going happen.”
“Maybe. So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Rose was silent for a moment and then took a deep breath. “I left without saying goodbye to the Doc- to John. He was gone when I woke up.”
“Oh.” Iris was silent for a moment. “Did you two have a fight?”
“No! He just wasn’t there this morning.” Rose thought it sounded foolish as she said it, but she didn’t want to confide to Iris how frightened she had been when she’d thought the red paint on the wall could have been blood.
“Maybe he went to class early.” Iris thought this sounded plausible, and the subject of just where the Doctor might be was dropped as a tall man entered the store.
He was not a customer, of that Rose was certain. He wore a dark blue work shirt of heavy material and matching trousers. Various tools rode on his belt, and he had work boots on his feet. As she took these details in Rose realized the sound of tools had stopped next door.
“Hello.” He smiled at them both as he came into the shop. “Hope we weren’t bothering you two much next door.”
Rose shook her head and smiled. He was tall and very handsome, and his eyes were blue. They contrasted nicely with his fair hair and tanned skin.
“It was a bit loud,” Iris told him. “It’s hard to hear the customers with the banging and the songs.”
He glanced around the shop, devoid of any customers. “Hard to hear them when they’re not here, either,” he observed.
Rose bit back a smile. Iris flushed, but whether it was out of embarrassment or anger Rose couldn’t tell. She had certainly never heard her manager speak so sharply to anyone before.
“I’m Jim.” He held out his hand, leaving Iris no choice but to shake it. “I’m the head carpenter for the project next door. We’re expanding into that empty space for your shop.”
“Yes, I know,” Iris said primly.
“You must be Rose.” Jim dropped Iris’s hand and smiled at Rose.
“Why must I be Rose?” she asked.
“I was told Rose is pretty and blonde, and Iris is pretty and dark.”
“Did Mr. Troy tell you that?” Rose was amazed. The few times she had met her employer he had always been polite but distant.
“Well, maybe I added in the pretty part,” Jim allowed. “I came in to say hello. My men and I are leaving for lunch, but we’ll be back. I’d like to go over the plans with you this afternoon,” he added to Iris. “Per Mr. Troy.”
“I’ll be happy to,” Iris said stiffly.
Jim smiled and left. The door hadn’t closed on him before Rose was turning to Iris.
“Iris! What’s wrong with you?” She was close to laughing but didn’t want to be.
Iris began straightening a rack of dresses. “Nothing’s wrong.” She pulled a dress off its hanger, shook it violently to remove some wrinkles, and hung it up again.
“You were kind of rude to him, weren’t you?”
“I was not.” Iris spoke emphatically.
“I’ve never heard you talk to someone like that.”
“Well, I didn’t like his attitude.”
“What attitude? He was nice! And cute,” Rose added wickedly, grinning when she saw Iris blush.
“He’s a carpenter.”
“So? Doesn’t mean he can’t be cute, too.”
Iris let out her breath. “I’m going to lunch. See you in an hour.”
The afternoon was accompanied by sounds of tools again. Rose started to hum along with the Beatles - the crew next door appeared to be playing Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in its entirety. Iris appeared to be very impatient, but she didn’t say anything else about the work going on next door. Rose wondered if something else was bothering her.
Something else was certainly bothering Rose. There was no sign of the Doctor. She might have used her mobile phone if she’d had it with her - thanks to the Doctor’s tinkering it worked even in the time before cell phone towers - but he did not have a corresponding phone to answer any call she might make to him. She used the shop’s phone once to call the flat, but if he was there he didn’t answer.
To take her mind off her frustration with him - drat the man, where WAS he?- she focused on the other issue bothering her.
She missed her mum.
It was as she was in the back office, tallying up the receipts later for an early bank deposit that she had her revelation. As she wrote the date at the top of the bank deposit slip, she paused and stared hard at the year. 1969.
Her mum was alive in 1969. She was alive, and she was in London.
She was perfectly still for a moment, thinking. Then she pulled the telephone directory out of the desk and started turning the pages. She found what she was looking for, carefully wrote it down, and gathered up her bag, the bank deposit, and her jacket.
“Iris? I’ll go drop this off now, if that’s okay.”
Iris was with one of their regular customers, and they both looked over.
“What’s that?” Iris called.
Rose sighed, moved closer, and tried to speak over Paul McCartney crooning, “Lovely Rita, meter-maid.”
“I’ll go and do the bank deposit. Be back in half an hour or so.”
“All right.” Iris turned back to her customer, who was trying on a white suit trimmed with yellow flowers. “Sorry, Mrs. Carter. It’s just a bit loud here for the next few days.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Mrs. Carter smiled. “My sons adore the Beatles. If I don’t hear their music each day I start to forget where I am.”
Rose stopped at the bank first. She made the deposit, got the receipt, and was back on the street without knowing how she’d managed the entire transaction. Her mind was entirely on the slip of paper in her pocket. Taking it out, she studied the address. She only had half an hour, and she knew she would never have time. Sighing, she stowed the paper back in her pocket and returned to the shop.
Mrs. Carter had gone. Iris was putting away the clothes she had chosen not to buy.
“Need help?” Rose grinned at the sizable pile of dresses.
“Bless her, she’s a lovely woman, and she buys most of her things here, but she just can’t make up her mind!” Iris was laughing as she made her way through the store with several dresses in her arms. Her view was blocked, so she didn’t see Jim the carpenter until she literally bounced off of him.
“Oh!” She caught herself before she fell but dropped the dresses.
“Sorry!” Jim bent down and scooped them up.
“No!” Iris shrieked.
Surprised at her reaction, he let them fall again.
“Iris!” Rose gasped. What had gotten into her?
“Your hands are dirty,” Iris said, picking the dresses back up.
“‘My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?’” Rose murmured, and was sorry no one was around to laugh with her. It was hard making Star Wars references if no one else knew what Star Wars was.
“Sorry.” Jim didn’t look sorry so much as irritated. “I won’t try to help you again. Just came by to tell you we’re finished for the day. Be sure you lock up. We have our tools and equipment over there. Thieves could break in through this shop to get to them.”
Iris glared at him. “I always lock up the shop,” she said hotly.
Rose stepped forward, determined to defuse the situation before it came to blows.
“We’ll be sure to lock up tight,” she assured Jim. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“Goodnight, Rose.” He threw Iris one more look of mild dislike before leaving.
“What is wrong with you?” Rose demanded. “He’s a perfectly nice bloke - a good-looking one, too! - and you’re never rude to anyone.”
“I don’t know.” Iris sounded flustered as she finished putting the dresses away. She had a pretty flush on her cheeks and her dark hair had come loose from its knot. “I really don’t.”
Rose sighed. “Shall I lock up, then?”
“Yes, do. I’m ready to go home.”
Rose shook her head. Privately, she thought a shot of a stiff drink would do wonders for loosening Iris up, but she didn’t dare suggest they head out to the local pub for a pint. Iris did not do things like that.
She left through the back room after making sure the front door was locked. Iris followed her out, locking the back door securely.
“There!” Iris put her key away. “Definitely locked up.”
Rose smiled. “Goodnight.”
She walked around to the front of the building. She supposed she might as well get something for dinner, since she was on her own. The anxiety she’d tried to hide all day came out in full force, and she once again worried about where the Doctor might be.
As she stood on the street, worrying and biting her lip, she heard her name being called. Rose looked up and down the street, wondering who it could be, hoping that it was the Doctor.
“Rose Tyler!” Only one person could holler her name so loudly and still make it sound so beautiful. She turned around in a circle and let out a laugh of sheer happiness when she saw him, rushing down the street towards her. He held something in one hand but she didn’t bother to look. She simply ran to him and flung herself into his arms.
Nineteen
Characters: Rose, Ten
Summary: AU. What if Rose had stayed through Doomsday and was the one to end up in 1969 with the Doctor? How would they get back to their proper time? Would they want to?
Rating: PG
Beta: nattieb
~ One~ Two~ Three~ Four~ Five~ Six~ Seven~ Eight~ Nine~ Ten
~ Eleven~ Twelve~ Thirteen~ Fourteen~ Fifteen~ Sixteen~ Seventeen
Rose woke up alone on Monday morning. The Doctor was gone. She hadn’t expected him to stay with her overnight. He never slept, and sharing the same bed was the sort of intimacy he never would have stooped to before. Their current situation put their relationship on a level they had never previously explored, and Rose was rather relieved to be on her own.
She padded through the flat but saw no sign of him. She made herself breakfast and straightened up. The kitchen was in exactly the same shape as it was the night before when she’d gone to bed. Rose wasn’t even surprised to find it such a mess. The notion of the Doctor actually putting things away and cleaning up was mind-boggling. Housekeeping was the sort of domestic activity that was far beneath him.
She took a quick bath and got ready for work, putting on a blue shirtwaist dress that had tiny white buttons and a white belt that fastened very tight around her waist. Rose longed to wear the blue hip-hugger trousers she’d found in a shop around the corner from work. They were much closer to what she used to wear than dresses or bellbottoms, but they were too casual for work. The Doctor assured her that fashions would begin to loosen up soon, but she suspected that as long as she worked in retail, she would have to dress more formally. Or at least until her own shop began carrying them. Maybe she should talk with Iris.
She delayed going to work as long as she could, but the Doctor didn’t return. She wasn’t worried about him, but she was a bit surprised that he hadn’t left her a note. She had no way of knowing how long he’d been gone, either. Finally she packed up a lunch and headed out. She bumped into Jeff as she walked down the stairs.
“Sorry! I didn’t see you.” Rose juggled her bag and her lunchbox, trying in vain to keep them from falling.
“No, it was my fault.” Jeff handily caught her lunchbox and handed it back to her. “How was your weekend?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Good.”
They had continued down the stairs as they spoke. Once in the small foyer they both slowed down.
“What is that?” Rose asked, standing on the last stair.
“I...I don’t know.” Jeff moved closer to have a look.
A dark red liquid streaked across the wall. Rose was repulsed by it, and she couldn’t help the irrational stab of fear she felt as she looked at it.
“It looks like blood.” Her voice shook, and again she wondered where the Doctor was.
Jeff looked up and down the hallway. “I don’t see any more.”
“Do you think it’s blood?” Rose persisted.
“It could be,” he allowed, and she shivered.
A tall woman dressed in a pink suit strode briskly down the hallway from the first floor flats. She slowed down when she saw them.
“What’s going on?”
Jeff gestured to the wall. She looked, took in the stain, and curled her mouth in disgust.
“What’s that?”
“We don’t know,” Jeff replied. “Any ideas, Sandra?”
“It looks like blood.” She eyed Jeff as if he were responsible.
“Well, it could be paint or something,” Rose said. The woman, who was very pretty, now stared at Rose as though it were Rose’s doing. Rose decided that she didn’t like this neighbor very much.
Before anyone could decide what the next step should be, the door to the landlady’s flat opened. She was holding a sponge and stopped in surprise when she saw the group in the foyer.
“Good morning! Are you holding a tenants’ meeting here in the hallway?” She chuckled at her joke,
Jeff shook his head. “Mrs. MacMurray, there’s a big stain out here, and-”
“Oh, yes.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid that was me.”
“What is it?” Sandra asked sharply.
“Why, just some paint, my dear. I’ve been painting my sitting room. I came out here when I heard a noise, and I was so clumsy - I carried my paintbrush out with me and brushed the walls with it. I’ve been cleaning it up.”
Sandra relaxed. “If that’s all it is, you’ll excuse me. I’m running late.” She threw Jeff a glare as she left the building.
Jeff looked doubtful. “Shall I get that for you, Mrs. MacMurray?”
“Goodness, no! Just because I’m old enough to be your granny doesn’t mean I can’t do a spot of cleaning!” She brandished the sponge at him. “Off you go!”
Rose smiled at her. “I hope you get the job done.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will. Have a good day.”
When Rose glanced behind as she left the building, Mrs. MacMurray was carefully wiping up the spill. Jeff was waiting for her. The postman came in as she was going out, and she held the door open for him.
“Good morning, Joe.”
“Morning, Rose! Enjoy your day!”
Jeff looked at Rose in amusement as they started down the street. “You know the postman’s name?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’ve lived here two years and never knew it.”
“That just makes you unfriendly.”
He snorted. “Hardly. Can you imagine what a fright of a sitting room that must be?” he continued. “Red! Who has a red room? My mum doesn’t believe in anything darker than pink or blue anywhere in the house.”
Rose grinned. “Maybe she’s trying to liven things up.”
“I won’t be taking decorating tips from her.”
“Jeff,” Rose said impulsively. “Have you seen the Do - my - John?”
“Not since we went to the cinema. Did he leave without saying goodbye?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, where does he usually hang around? Maybe he’s at the library, or the university.”
The fact that the Doctor did not frequent those places did not make Rose feel better. The student he was pretending to be might, but he was never one to throw himself into a role.
“It’s just a project he’s working on. I’m sure he’ll be back.”
“Well, why wouldn’t he come back? You’re here.” Jeff glanced at his watch. “I’m running behind. See you later.”
Rose walked to work, scanning the streets for the Doctor. Things had been going along in the normal fashion between them. And then they had kissed. And then things went back to normal - if normal meant never mentioning the one thing that was staring them both in the face. Rose didn’t know if the Doctor regretted his actions, was avoiding the issue because he avoided most serious, emotional issues, or if he’d genuinely forgotten that the kiss had happened.
She didn’t know which one would be the worst.
She didn’t spot him on the way to work, and she was feeling oddly depressed as she walked into the shop. The mood lasted long enough for her to take in the loud sounds coming from next door.
Rose rang the after-hours bell and waited. After a moment Iris appeared to unlock the door and let her in.
“Good morning, Rose!”
“Good morning!” Rose called back. “What’s all this?”
Iris locked the door again and gestured for Rose to follow her into the office.
“Mr. Troy is starting renovations. They’re gutting out the shop next door. It should be loud, but not messy.”
Rose glanced at the wall. “Are they tearing apart the whole place?”
Iris shrugged. “I’m getting a headache, and I’ve been here twenty minutes.”
Rose put her bags away and listened. “What’s he got planned for the shop?”
“He’s expanding, but he hasn’t told me too much. He wants to carry a men’s line, but I don’t think we’ll have enough room. Maybe we can persuade him to carry more sportswear and casual wear. Then we wouldn’t have to hire a man.”
“Oh, I’d love some more casual wear!” Rose said enthusiastically.
Iris smiled. “You sound like the weekend help. Most of the clothes here are all stuffy, they say.”
“They’re not all that bad.” Rose glanced around as she spoke. The merchandise wasn’t up to the minute trendy, but that was a good thing. Everything was modern but in good taste. She actually thought most of it was cute, but she would never resign herself to polyester.
Although Iris wasn’t in polyester, was she? Rose looked more closely at her manager’s outfit. As usual, Iris was dressed with the greatest of taste. Nothing too short or trendy for her. The cut of her dress was a simple shirtwaist, like Rose’s, but her dress was made of silk and buttoned up all the way to her throat, while Rose had left the top two buttons of her dress undone. Iris filled in the space above her dress with a necklace consisting of multiple strands of pearls, and her dark hair was up in its usual twist.
Rose contrasted Iris with the appearance of the girls who worked in the shop where she’d purchased her hiphuggers and tight t-shirts. Those girls were decked out in minis and knee-high boots.
“They are if you’re in high school.” Iris glanced at her watch. “I’m going to unlock the doors. Will you count the till for me?”
“Sure.”
The morning passed slowly. Rose counted the till to make sure it balanced. She set up new displays, helped customers and hung dresses up from the fitting room. Her attention was only partly on these tasks. She couldn’t stop looking at the door, watching for someone who wasn’t coming.
“Are you all right?” Iris finally asked. “You’ve been distracted all day.”
Rose shrugged. The shop was empty, and the classical music Iris normally had playing was being overrun by the pop music coming from next door. Whoever was working in the future Helio space needed to play the radio loud enough for the music to be heard over the sound of the tools, and they had a decided taste for pop music.
Iris frowned in annoyance. “That music is such a pain!”
“Don’t you like the Beatles?” Rose asked. “Or Elvis?”
“Of course I like them! It’s not that I don’t like music. It’s just so loud. And I don’t know what Mr. Troy means to do, so I’m all on edge about it. I hate not being in control of what happens.”
Rose smiled. “Sometimes it’s better not to know what’s going happen.”
“Maybe. So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Rose was silent for a moment and then took a deep breath. “I left without saying goodbye to the Doc- to John. He was gone when I woke up.”
“Oh.” Iris was silent for a moment. “Did you two have a fight?”
“No! He just wasn’t there this morning.” Rose thought it sounded foolish as she said it, but she didn’t want to confide to Iris how frightened she had been when she’d thought the red paint on the wall could have been blood.
“Maybe he went to class early.” Iris thought this sounded plausible, and the subject of just where the Doctor might be was dropped as a tall man entered the store.
He was not a customer, of that Rose was certain. He wore a dark blue work shirt of heavy material and matching trousers. Various tools rode on his belt, and he had work boots on his feet. As she took these details in Rose realized the sound of tools had stopped next door.
“Hello.” He smiled at them both as he came into the shop. “Hope we weren’t bothering you two much next door.”
Rose shook her head and smiled. He was tall and very handsome, and his eyes were blue. They contrasted nicely with his fair hair and tanned skin.
“It was a bit loud,” Iris told him. “It’s hard to hear the customers with the banging and the songs.”
He glanced around the shop, devoid of any customers. “Hard to hear them when they’re not here, either,” he observed.
Rose bit back a smile. Iris flushed, but whether it was out of embarrassment or anger Rose couldn’t tell. She had certainly never heard her manager speak so sharply to anyone before.
“I’m Jim.” He held out his hand, leaving Iris no choice but to shake it. “I’m the head carpenter for the project next door. We’re expanding into that empty space for your shop.”
“Yes, I know,” Iris said primly.
“You must be Rose.” Jim dropped Iris’s hand and smiled at Rose.
“Why must I be Rose?” she asked.
“I was told Rose is pretty and blonde, and Iris is pretty and dark.”
“Did Mr. Troy tell you that?” Rose was amazed. The few times she had met her employer he had always been polite but distant.
“Well, maybe I added in the pretty part,” Jim allowed. “I came in to say hello. My men and I are leaving for lunch, but we’ll be back. I’d like to go over the plans with you this afternoon,” he added to Iris. “Per Mr. Troy.”
“I’ll be happy to,” Iris said stiffly.
Jim smiled and left. The door hadn’t closed on him before Rose was turning to Iris.
“Iris! What’s wrong with you?” She was close to laughing but didn’t want to be.
Iris began straightening a rack of dresses. “Nothing’s wrong.” She pulled a dress off its hanger, shook it violently to remove some wrinkles, and hung it up again.
“You were kind of rude to him, weren’t you?”
“I was not.” Iris spoke emphatically.
“I’ve never heard you talk to someone like that.”
“Well, I didn’t like his attitude.”
“What attitude? He was nice! And cute,” Rose added wickedly, grinning when she saw Iris blush.
“He’s a carpenter.”
“So? Doesn’t mean he can’t be cute, too.”
Iris let out her breath. “I’m going to lunch. See you in an hour.”
The afternoon was accompanied by sounds of tools again. Rose started to hum along with the Beatles - the crew next door appeared to be playing Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in its entirety. Iris appeared to be very impatient, but she didn’t say anything else about the work going on next door. Rose wondered if something else was bothering her.
Something else was certainly bothering Rose. There was no sign of the Doctor. She might have used her mobile phone if she’d had it with her - thanks to the Doctor’s tinkering it worked even in the time before cell phone towers - but he did not have a corresponding phone to answer any call she might make to him. She used the shop’s phone once to call the flat, but if he was there he didn’t answer.
To take her mind off her frustration with him - drat the man, where WAS he?- she focused on the other issue bothering her.
She missed her mum.
It was as she was in the back office, tallying up the receipts later for an early bank deposit that she had her revelation. As she wrote the date at the top of the bank deposit slip, she paused and stared hard at the year. 1969.
Her mum was alive in 1969. She was alive, and she was in London.
She was perfectly still for a moment, thinking. Then she pulled the telephone directory out of the desk and started turning the pages. She found what she was looking for, carefully wrote it down, and gathered up her bag, the bank deposit, and her jacket.
“Iris? I’ll go drop this off now, if that’s okay.”
Iris was with one of their regular customers, and they both looked over.
“What’s that?” Iris called.
Rose sighed, moved closer, and tried to speak over Paul McCartney crooning, “Lovely Rita, meter-maid.”
“I’ll go and do the bank deposit. Be back in half an hour or so.”
“All right.” Iris turned back to her customer, who was trying on a white suit trimmed with yellow flowers. “Sorry, Mrs. Carter. It’s just a bit loud here for the next few days.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Mrs. Carter smiled. “My sons adore the Beatles. If I don’t hear their music each day I start to forget where I am.”
Rose stopped at the bank first. She made the deposit, got the receipt, and was back on the street without knowing how she’d managed the entire transaction. Her mind was entirely on the slip of paper in her pocket. Taking it out, she studied the address. She only had half an hour, and she knew she would never have time. Sighing, she stowed the paper back in her pocket and returned to the shop.
Mrs. Carter had gone. Iris was putting away the clothes she had chosen not to buy.
“Need help?” Rose grinned at the sizable pile of dresses.
“Bless her, she’s a lovely woman, and she buys most of her things here, but she just can’t make up her mind!” Iris was laughing as she made her way through the store with several dresses in her arms. Her view was blocked, so she didn’t see Jim the carpenter until she literally bounced off of him.
“Oh!” She caught herself before she fell but dropped the dresses.
“Sorry!” Jim bent down and scooped them up.
“No!” Iris shrieked.
Surprised at her reaction, he let them fall again.
“Iris!” Rose gasped. What had gotten into her?
“Your hands are dirty,” Iris said, picking the dresses back up.
“‘My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?’” Rose murmured, and was sorry no one was around to laugh with her. It was hard making Star Wars references if no one else knew what Star Wars was.
“Sorry.” Jim didn’t look sorry so much as irritated. “I won’t try to help you again. Just came by to tell you we’re finished for the day. Be sure you lock up. We have our tools and equipment over there. Thieves could break in through this shop to get to them.”
Iris glared at him. “I always lock up the shop,” she said hotly.
Rose stepped forward, determined to defuse the situation before it came to blows.
“We’ll be sure to lock up tight,” she assured Jim. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“Goodnight, Rose.” He threw Iris one more look of mild dislike before leaving.
“What is wrong with you?” Rose demanded. “He’s a perfectly nice bloke - a good-looking one, too! - and you’re never rude to anyone.”
“I don’t know.” Iris sounded flustered as she finished putting the dresses away. She had a pretty flush on her cheeks and her dark hair had come loose from its knot. “I really don’t.”
Rose sighed. “Shall I lock up, then?”
“Yes, do. I’m ready to go home.”
Rose shook her head. Privately, she thought a shot of a stiff drink would do wonders for loosening Iris up, but she didn’t dare suggest they head out to the local pub for a pint. Iris did not do things like that.
She left through the back room after making sure the front door was locked. Iris followed her out, locking the back door securely.
“There!” Iris put her key away. “Definitely locked up.”
Rose smiled. “Goodnight.”
She walked around to the front of the building. She supposed she might as well get something for dinner, since she was on her own. The anxiety she’d tried to hide all day came out in full force, and she once again worried about where the Doctor might be.
As she stood on the street, worrying and biting her lip, she heard her name being called. Rose looked up and down the street, wondering who it could be, hoping that it was the Doctor.
“Rose Tyler!” Only one person could holler her name so loudly and still make it sound so beautiful. She turned around in a circle and let out a laugh of sheer happiness when she saw him, rushing down the street towards her. He held something in one hand but she didn’t bother to look. She simply ran to him and flung herself into his arms.
Nineteen