Don't Blink - 37/?
Title: Don't Blink - 37/?
Characters: Ten, Rose
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
1~ 2~ 3~ 4~ 5~ 6~ 7~ 8~ 9~ 10~ 11~ 12~ 13~ 14~ 15~ 16~ 17~ 18~ 19~ 20~
21~ 22~ 23~ 24~ 25~ 26~ 27~ 28~ 29~ 30~ 31~ 32~ 33~ 34~ 35~ 36
They’d made a habit out of not saying things that needed saying. How they felt for each other, what it was really like to be trapped in time, her longing for her mother and his fear of being discovered by his previous regeneration. The unsaid things were jumbled in Rose’s mind, all waiting and wanting to be said.
She was afraid to say them.
Things were brief and strained between them. What the Doctor had seen as a necessary move Rose saw as a betrayal and an abandonment. She made her feelings clear that first morning by staying in her room until he left for work. In the evening he was outside the shop, waiting for her without fail. It had crossed her mind many times to wonder how he was leaving Cambridge so early, and whether it was an easy thing to do.
When she saw him waiting the first night after his arrest she told him not to bother, that she could get herself home. He’d responded tersely that something was still wrong in the neighborhood, and he would not let her go home alone. She allowed him to walk her home but they didn’t make more than the most casual conversation. He didn’t suggest that they pop into a local shop he’d passed the night before to investigate the delightful things inside. He didn’t ask if she was hungry.
He didn’t reach for her hand.
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry by this.
She didn’t reach for his.
She did the cooking and the washing and cleaning, but they seemed to be existing in a different space from one another. If they’d been on the TARDIS the solution would have been easy. Avoid each other for a while, or take a trip someplace new to forget about the issue at hand. If nothing else, Rose could have simply asked to go home.
The Doctor, the one who had once loathed personal entanglements of all and any kinds, wanted her to talk to him again. To look at him, to yell at him, to smack him again. Anything other than the coldness she was showing him. This was how complicated, tangled relationships were. Fighting and silence and angry thoughts, and this was why he wanted nothing to do with the entire business.
Then he would contradict his own thoughts by wondering what the hell it was that Rose wanted from him, and how could he give it to her so she would smile at him again.
Instead of trying to find out, the Doctor put himself on a sort of autopilot. He took the earliest train possible into Cambridge each morning, damning himself all the way for so thoughtlessly choosing such a distant place to work and hide. The irony of trying to avoid London and his old acquaintances, only to end up facing the first human he’d ever travelled with, was irritating and thrown in his face at least once a week, when the science faculty had their interminably long and boring meetings. Ian was present at many of those meetings, and the Doctor hated having to look him in the eye. He hated hearing the rumors regarding Ian and Barbara and their disappearance and return to England. Some of the rumors were rude and salacious and he wanted to knock the speakers out.
Ian appeared well aware of those rumors. Sometimes an angry look would cross his face, or his mouth would tighten as though he were forcing himself not to say something, but he never gave more of a reaction than that. The Doctor longed to intervene, but he knew that to do so would draw attention to himself, and that was something he could not do.
Instead he waited for his dissertation to be typed out - what he wouldn’t give for a good computer and dictation program rather than one overworked secretary! - and taught his classes and tried to hide his boredom with all things academic and human.
He felt his breaking point coming and feared what he might do when it came.
It was the end of October when Rose had had enough. Four long days of forcing herself to ignore him had taken its toll on her. That Wednesday morning she got ready for work much later than usual and was surprised to find the Doctor in the kitchen, packing up a leather bag. Whether he was grading papers, writing his dissertation or writing a novel Rose had no idea, and at the moment she really didn’t give a damn what he got up to.
“Good morning!” he said, obviously surprised to see her.
“Morning,” she said shortly.
Uncertainty flashed across his face, but he persevered. He hated the tension between them. “Would you like to walk to the shop together? I can catch a different-”
“No, thanks.” Rose felt like she was kicking a puppy at the downcast look on his face. “I’m okay.” That was as far as she was willing to bend, even if she was aware that she was acting like a right witch toward him.
“How long are you going to do this, Rose?” His voice had changed, become lower and rougher, and she saw a flash of the Oncoming Storm before he forced it down again. “You know why I told you to stay here that night. I had to go along with the police.”
A well of stubbornness would not let her speak. She could only glare at him.
“All right.” The Doctor abruptly picked up his bag. “Be safe, Rose.” He left the flat before she could say another word, and she wondered why she had gotten up so early if she was just going to be rude to him. He had extended another reconciliation attempt. Why couldn’t she accept it?
She silently fumed to herself as she gathered her bag and lunch and left for work. She passed Mrs. MacMurray on the ground floor, about to enter her flat.
“Good morning,” Rose said, making herself be polite and sociable. “How are you feeling these days?”
The shock of the murder had made the poor old woman struggle to breathe, and she’d been taken to hospital overnight as a precaution. Rose had been looking in on her every evening since she came home - she’d been alone since her husband had died and Rose felt bad for her.
The older woman smiled ruefully. “I’m getting too old for this nonsense, Rose. All this fuss and bother and now everyone’s worried for my health! I’m going to go visit my sister in Cardiff for a bit. Settle my nerves.”
Rose hitched her bag over her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do?”
Mrs. MacMurray smiled. “Just pay the rent on time, my dear. I have someone who will be minding the building for me while I’m gone. I’ll be handing round his name and number tonight.”
“All right, then. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
As Rose stepped out onto the street a gust of wind blew by. As she fought with her skirt to keep it from flying too far above her knees, she bumped into the postman.
“Sorry!” he exclaimed, grabbing her arm to steady her. “So sorry, miss.”
“It’s okay.” Rose won the battle with her skirt and looked at him for the first time. He was a carrier she’d never seen before. “Oh! Joe still away?”
He looked puzzled. “I don’t know who Joe is. This is my new route. Started today.”
“The last carrier said he’d gone on holiday.”
He smiled at her, a nice man in his early forties. “Maybe he liked his holiday so much he didn’t want to come back.”
He laughed at his own joke and continued on, leaving Rose to roll her eyes and go to the shop.
Mr. Troy had moved up the grand opening date even though the renovations weren’t complete. On the far side of the shop, where the menswear department would be, Jim’s coworkers were trying to finish building cabinets and display cases. Jim was drawing up plans for the new storefront so it would match Helio’s current design. When he wasn’t working on that, he was drawing plans to scale for a new sales counter for the till to sit on and Rose and Iris to stand behind as they rang up customers. It was a large wooden structure that was slightly higher than Rose’s waist. Having seen the drawings Jim had made up for it, Rose thought it was rather a basic thing to have custom-made, but then Jim had pointed out the elaborate carvings it would have when it was finished.
“Rather baroque, isn’t it?” Iris commented with a sniff.
Jim shrugged and carried on with his careful pencil drawing. “It’s what the boss wants.”
“It does look nice,” Rose said, peering over his shoulder as he knelt on the floor beside the current sales counter.
“That’s a lot of carving on custom wood,” Iris added. “Who’s going to do it?”
Jim glanced up at her. “I am.”
“You?” Iris said in surprise.
Jim winked at Rose. “I’m very good with my hands.”
Work was awful that day. A very well-dressed woman walked in before lunch, wearing a light-green suit, hat and white gloves. She had the appearance of a well-mannered, wealthy woman, but she turned out to be incredibly arrogant, condescending and clearly thought very little about shop girls.
“I told you I wanted this dress in the blue!” she snapped at Rose, when she very clearly had said the yellow.
“I’m so sorry,” Rose said, forcing a smile. “Let me get that for you.”
Rose brought the wrong colors, the wrong sizes, and had no idea what shoes went with slacks and a blouse. By the time the woman had left the shop, Rose was exhausted, and not even the thought of the nice fat commission she’d earned was enough to make the morning worth it.
To make things even better, she tripped on a crack in the floor. She stumbled, righted herself, and stumbled again when the heel of her shoe snapped off.
“Damn it!” she exclaimed, hopping on one foot.
“Oh, no,” Iris cried. “Are you all right?”
“It’s not fair,” Rose said, trying not to cry. Ordinarily this would never have fazed her, but coming on the heels of the worst weeks of her life with the Doctor it was enough to completely ruin her day.
“I know it’s not,” Iris said sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Rose.”
“That woman was a right pain in the arse,” Jim said from his position at the counter beside Iris. “How can you let people like that in here?”
“People like that are the reason this shop stays open,” Iris reminded him.
“Maybe, but she was still a bossy witch,” he retorted.
“She was,” Iris agreed with a sigh, not even reprimanding him for using a word as strong as witch.
And there was the other reason Rose’s day was going poorly. After weeks and weeks of snapping at one another, Iris and Jim were getting along. This just made it obvious that Rose was not getting along with the Doctor. She felt terrible even thinking that she preferred the two of them to be fighting if she was so miserable.
Rose gathered all the garments that had been tried on and discarded. She tired of limping after only two steps, and kicked off both of her shoes.
“Here,” Jim said, leaving his own work and picking up her shoes. “I can fix this heel in no time.”
Rose smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”
“Rose, do you want to go to lunch now?” Iris asked.
Rose sighed. “I’ll just eat in the back. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I’ll join you. We’ll hear the bell if anyone comes in.”
“I am right here,” Jim reminded her. “I’ll call if someone needs you.”
“Thank you,” Iris said. “If it’s no trouble.”
“None at all,” he assured her. “I’m right here, anyway.”
The skylight had been installed by professionals over the weekend. Jim had just spent the better part of an hour moving a shipment of packing boxes into the partially renovated space awaiting display shelves for men’s shoes and ties and empty clothes racks awaiting suits, shirts and some truly awful leisure suits that Rose had caught sight of while opening up a shipping manifest.
Now Jim pushed his drawings aside. “I think I have what I need among my tools.”
“Remember to say the name of the shop if the phone rings and I don’t pick up in time,” Iris couldn’t resist saying over her shoulder.
Jim rolled his eyes. “All right.”
“And the grand opening is scheduled for the third of November.”
“I know.”
“And if Mr. Troy rings, please come and get me.”
This time Jim turned back to face her. “What else would I do if he rings?” he demanded.
Iris looked flustered. “Of course. Sorry.”
“Go eat your lunch,” he said, and left for the far side of the shop.
Rose and Iris ate quickly, chatting over the latest Vogue magazine. Rose was finally relaxing when Iris took a deep breath.
“Rose, are you all right?”
“What?” Rose blinked at her over her cup of water.
“Are you feeling all right? The last few days you haven’t been yourself. Even Jim’s noticed.”
“I’m all right.” Rose looked down at the table top.
“You can talk to me, you know. You’ve been looking tired. Are you feeling ill?” Iris leaned forward. “Are you...are you expecting?”
“Expecting what?” Rose asked blankly.
Iris smiled. “You know! A baby. Sometimes you don’t realize it right away. My sister didn’t know until she was four months gone.”
Rose opened her mouth and then closed it again. “I’m not having a baby,” she said firmly. “We’ve just...we’ve been arguing,” she said impulsively.
“I know John is at the university a lot,” Iris said. “But he’s always here to walk you home. It’s very sweet.”
Rose smiled slightly. “It’s not about work. He’s doing what he has to. That other night, when they found that dead man in our building...he did something I didn’t want him to do, and we can’t get over it.”
Iris was silent for a moment. The murder had made the news, although Rose’s involvement in it had not been made public. Rose had confided in her about the trip to the police station and some of what had happened afterwards, but even though Iris was the closest friend she had, she hadn’t been able to tell her everything.
“He...he didn’t do it, did he?” Iris’s voice was very quiet, as though she didn’t want to offend Rose. “There’s no way he could have killed that man?”
Rose sighed. “No, nothing like that! Of course he didn’t do it! I mean, they’ve already caught the man who did it. It’s just that he made me stay at the flat!” she burst out. “While they took him away, he told me to just stay there!”
Iris looked surprised. “What else should you have done?”
“I could have gone with him and waited at the station! Or I could have investigated around the building.” Rose’s voice trailed off as she heard her thoughts spoken out loud for the first time.
“Wait at the station? At night?” Iris was clearly horrified. “Do you know the kinds of people that get arrested in London? That’s no place for a woman.”
Rose clenched her teeth together to keep from replying. Just when she was getting comfortable in this time period, something came up that reminded her that she was nowhere close to where she was supposed to be.
“I could handle it,” was all she said.
Iris didn’t not look convinced, and why should she? Normal women did not go to police stations at night to wait while their husbands were being questioned in a murder investigation. They sat at home and waited by the telephone. Rose gave it up as a lost cause. If Iris knew half the things Rose had done, she would never believe it. And those were just the things before the Doctor came into her life and blew up her job.
“I know it was safer and all that to stay put. But he didn’t even ring me to let me know what was happening! I mean, he can be self-absorbed and inconsiderate and rude, but a single phone call would not have been out of line!” Rose paused and took a bite of her sandwich, aware that she was acting as unpredictably and petulantly as a little girl.
Iris hesitated. “I’m not married, so I shouldn’t give you advice. But if you just talked it over, maybe you could clear things up.”
Rose bit her lip. “Is it wrong that I don’t want to clear things up yet? I know it’s wrong, but I just want to be mad for a while.”
Iris startled her by laughing. “That can’t be the best way to fix things.”
“Maybe not,” Rose admitted with a small grin. “But I’m still mad at him.”
The shop was empty when they returned from their lunch break. Thanks to the new skylight, the space looked much brighter. As one, Rose and Iris looked up at the ceiling.
“That’s so pretty,” Iris said.
“It looks like it’s always been there,” Rose added.
Jim surveyed the work and nodded in satisfaction. “It does look good.”
Iris was walking around with her eyes fixed on the glass. “It brings in a lot of light,” she said. “Maybe I can dim the lights on sunny days.” As she spoke she took a small step backwards. The heel of her shoe caught on something and she stumbled. Jim caught her from behind before she could fall.
“You all right?” he asked as he steadied her.
“Yes.” Iris looked at the floor. “That was strange.”
“You must have tripped over your own feet,” Rose said humorously. “At least I tripped on the floor.”
Iris looked up at Jim. “Thank you.”
He looked down at her. “You’re welcome.”
They stood that way for a very long moment. Rose fidgeted back and forth on her feet but neither one said anything. Finally she cleared her throat. They looked at her in surprise, and Jim let go of Iris’s arm.
“I’ll just tally up the bank deposit,” Iris said briskly, stepping away.
“I’m meeting the other blokes for lunch,” Jim said absently, watching her walk to the till. “I’ll be back in an hour. Your shoe is ready for you, Rose. Just don’t take any long walks on bumpy streets.”
She raised her hand as if to swear an oath. He smirked at her and handed the shoe back to her before he left. Rose slipped both shoes on her feet and looked up to find Iris staring at Jim’s retreating figure with frown.
“You okay?” she asked.
Iris started. “Yes. Sorry. I was thinking about...something else.”
Rose was about to demand to know what it was, but the shop’s door opened again, and a girl with curly blonde hair came in. She didn’t look like the shop’s normal clientele - she was wearing a very short skirt in an orange and blue plaid pattern, with a bright orange silk blouse. Rose wondered how she kept from freezing outside.
“Can I help you?” Iris asked politely.
The girl glanced over at them as she slowly walked around the sales floor.
“This is Helio, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes.” Iris was too polite to say anything, but she did glance at the window, where the name Helio was painted in bright yellow.
“Ladies’ clothing, yeah?”
Rose exchanged an incredulous look with Iris. Did she not see the dresses and skirts all about her?
“Yes, it is,” Rose confirmed, as the girl walked around, studying the carpet. At that moment, despite the cold weather, the sun came out again, beaming in through the windows of the shop and down through the skylight.
The girl abruptly picked up a silky scarf pattered in a geometric print.
“I’ll take this one,” she said to Iris, who was still standing behind the till.
“Of course,” Iris murmured.
The girl accepted her wrapped package and glanced at Rose. Her skin was lightly tanned, as though she’d been on holiday in some warm place. For a moment in the sunshine it seemed to glow. The girl glanced up at the skylight and smiled.
Work was awful that day. Absolutely, without a doubt, the most awful, tedious, awfully tedious day he could imagine. What had possessed him to take up a job at Cambridge in the masquerade of a student? He had done many stupid things in his long life, but this was perhaps the stupidest in a long time.
Ian Chesterton confirmed his suspicions.
“This is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to sit through,” he muttered to the Doctor. “And you’d be amazed at what I’ve had to sit through.”
“They just don’t pay us enough to do this,” the Doctor agreed under his breath.
The weekly faculty meeting, a time when the senior professors chose to drone on and on about academic minutiae, leaving the rest to try and pay attention. The Doctor didn’t need to look at the clock to know that if this went on much longer, he would never be able to leave in time to get back to London before Rose was done with work.
The meeting broken up, the Doctor jumped up with just a nod to the others in the room.
“Smith! A word, please.”
The Doctor groaned to himself and turned to face Roger Reynolds, a physics professor and a dead ringer for Oliver Cromwell, if he but knew it. Reynolds was tolerable, which was more than the Doctor could say for Cromwell. He was also the Doctor’s assigned advisor.
“How is your research coming along, Smith?”
“Very well, very well.” The Doctor forced a smile. “Just waiting for my dissertation to be typed up.”
Reynolds stared at him. “Typed up? Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Most unusual, Smith! I haven’t even looked it over! Not doing my job if I don’t!”
Once again the Doctor cursed academia.
“Well, remember, Roger, I did much of my research before I came to Cambridge.”
Reynolds made a loud, derisive sound in his throat. “Yes, yes, I remember. Unusual university, wasn’t it? Gallymoody or something?”
“Gallifrey,” the Doctor said through clenched teeth.
“Irish,” Reynolds sniffed. “Well, we’ll see what your Irish advisors thought of your work. Let me know when it’s ready.”
Only the thought that he was stuck in this time with no way out kept the Doctor from delivering a mighty insult. The hardest part of pretending to be human was having to act human all the time. And human males in this time period did not just sabotage their employment prospects for no reason. He had Rose to take care of, and he could not be irresponsible.
In the event that they were trapped here longer than he anticipated, he could not burn his bridges with anyone.
So he merely said, “I will,” and walked in the opposite direction from Reynolds.
He’d already graded the last batch of exam papers, and he had to know the status of his dissertation. He hurried to the secretaries’ office.
The only woman in the room was one he’d never seen before.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m looking for-”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Smith!” she cried. “I really am so, so sorry!”
The Doctor was puzzled. Nothing about his interactions with the secretaries made any sense. “What are you sorry for?”
“I know your dissertation was being typed up, but the girl who was working on it is...is gone.”
He was not expecting this. “Gone? As in gone?”
“I don’t know if she quit or if she was sacked. I’ve been trying to find your papers - ”
He was stunned. “You’ve lost my dissertation? Before I could even have my advisor read it over?”
The girl wrung her hands. “I’m still looking, I swear!”
For a normal man, the loss of a dissertation paper would mean at least a year’s worth of lost work. The Doctor took a deep breath. He could rewrite it very quickly if necessary. Maybe he should just buy a typewriter.
“Please let me know by tomorrow if you’ve found it.”
He left the university twenty minutes later, utterly exhausted. This daily grind of working and teaching was not at all enjoyable. Now to meet Rose at the shop. If she still refused to speak to him his evening really would be complete. in the back of his mind her was very much aware of how ridiculous their argument was, but until she was willing to speak to him about it, he felt like his hands were tied.
As he left the building to head for the train station, he heard someone call his name.
“Smith! Hold the door for me, will you?”
The Doctor turned around and saw Ian heading his way, his arms full of boxes. He held the door open so Ian could walk outside.
Thanks,” Ian grunted, trying to steady his boxes.
“Do you need help?”
“Could you just fish about in my pocket for my car key?”
The Doctor obligingly patted down Ian’s coat pocket, removing the car key and placing it into Ian’s fingers.
“Thanks.”
“You need some help?” The Doctor asked the question even though he really felt the need to stay far away from his old companion.
“I’ve got them,” Ian said easily. “Just a few things to bring home to research. A little project that my wife and I are working on.”
“Your wife?”
“Barbara. You’ll meet her at Christmas, I reckon. All the fun academic parties and all that.” Ian grimaced to show that he was not looking forward to it. “She’s helping me with some of the details.”
He clearly did not want to say anymore, but the perverse streak in the Doctor made him ask anyway. “What is the project about?”
“Oh, nothing special,” Ian replied lightly. “The effects of aging on the human body. Not my field, obviously, but Barbara has an interest.”
They had walked to the edge of the car park, and Ian turned to walk to his car.
“Have a good night, Smith.”
“You, too,” the Doctor responded, and watched Ian walk away. To his car, to his family, to his rightful life that had started once he left the TARDIS behind.
They closed the shop up a few minutes past five. Although Rose kept glancing at the door, the Doctor did not appear. Even though she had been cold to him the past few days, he had continued to meet her. The disappearances and murder had rattled him slightly. Even though she knew who had killed their unknown neighbor, Rose was a little rattled, too.
But tonight he wasn’t there.
In the back of her mind was the worry that something had happened to him. Rose forced it aside and waved goodbye to Iris. She started off for home, and as she walked she began to feel ridiculous. Here the Doctor had been walking her home all this time, and what was there to be afraid of? There were people all around her, and they weren’t afraid to walk home and walk to the shop and to the pub. They laughed and talked and didn’t act like they were in imminent danger. Why should she?
Rose walked at a brisk pace, not because of a fear of danger but because the weather was getting colder and her dress didn’t cover her knees. She was eager to get home and put on something warmer.
She had almost reached the flat when she stopped in surprise. Coming out of the building, looking around, was Billy Shipton.
He saw her and grinned in relief, waving an arm at her in greeting.
“Billy!” Rose laughed in delight and hurried to give him a hug. “How are you?”
“I’m doing good. How about you?” Billy set her back on her feet.
“I”m good.” Rose forced a smile to her face. “What are you doing here?”
His face changed from friendly to angry. “Are you kidding me? I was doing some work out in the Lakes District, filming a commercial. I come back today and pick up an old paper and see that there was a murder done here in the building! I came to make sure you’re all right!”
“Of course we are!” Rose was insulted that he felt the need to check on them.
“I would have come sooner, if I’d known.”
“You couldn’t have done anything,” she pointed out. “Not like you’ve got any of your big-shot police connections.”
He smiled suddenly. “Well, then, maybe I just missed you. Where’s the Doctor?” He glanced around.
“Still at work, I imagine,” Rose said carelessly.
“Let’s go get a bite to eat, then. He won’t mind if I borrow his pretty girl for a while.”
“He won’t mind at all,” Rose said defiantly. He glanced at her but didn’t say anything else.
They went to the neighborhood pub, which was surprisingly busy for the middle of the week. Billy grabbed a table and placed their orders while Rose went to the loo to fix the damage the wind had done to her hair. She’d done it up in a teased bouffant that morning, and was relieved to see that the wind had ruined that style. She wasn’t fond of it. She used her comb to comb her hair straight and left it down. When she returned, the server was just setting their drinks down, and Jeff was sitting across from Billy, talking animatedly.
“Hello!” Jeff stood up and gave Rose a brief kiss on the cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Rose folded her coat over the back of her chair and sat down beside Billy. “How are you?”
“Ran away from work early to meet Kitty for a bite.” Jeff grinned at her.
Rose perked up. “Really? Kitty? As friends or more?”
Jeff snagged a chip from the basket the server placed before Rose. “Well, friends right now. But I’m wearing her down, don’t worry.”
Billy chuckled. “Women have different ideas about friendship, mate. Good luck.”
“I’ll need it. Thanks.” Jeff ate another chip.
“Thank you, Jeff,” Rose said suddenly. “For what you did that night. I’m sorry I haven’t thanked you properly.” Tears gathered in her eyes, to the alarm of both men.
“It was nothing,” he assured her hastily. “Really! I would have gone myself, but it’s not exactly my area. Not much use in that case, I’m afraid.”
“What did you do?” Billy asked curiously.
“Didn’t do anything, really,” Jeff said, but Rose interrupted him.
“He was brilliant, Billy! He called a friend and asked him to go represent the Doct- John - at the station.”
“I’m a solicitor,” Jeff said simply. “Nothing special. Just the wrong one for that case.”
“His family runs the firm!” Rose couldn’t help saying.
“What firm?” Billy asked curiously.
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Why do people always think the law is so interesting? My grandfather founded a firm here in London with a schoolmate. My father and uncle both followed in his footsteps, but my dad moved to Manchester for my mum. When my uncle died we came back to London so dad could join the family firm. I was only eight.”
“So that’s why you don’t have much of an accent,” Billy noted.
Jeff looked offended. “Look who’s talking!”
The light coming to the table was suddenly blocked. All three turned and looked up.
The Doctor stood there, looking absolutely furious.
Thirty-eight
Characters: Ten, Rose
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
1~ 2~ 3~ 4~ 5~ 6~ 7~ 8~ 9~ 10~ 11~ 12~ 13~ 14~ 15~ 16~ 17~ 18~ 19~ 20~
21~ 22~ 23~ 24~ 25~ 26~ 27~ 28~ 29~ 30~ 31~ 32~ 33~ 34~ 35~ 36
They’d made a habit out of not saying things that needed saying. How they felt for each other, what it was really like to be trapped in time, her longing for her mother and his fear of being discovered by his previous regeneration. The unsaid things were jumbled in Rose’s mind, all waiting and wanting to be said.
She was afraid to say them.
Things were brief and strained between them. What the Doctor had seen as a necessary move Rose saw as a betrayal and an abandonment. She made her feelings clear that first morning by staying in her room until he left for work. In the evening he was outside the shop, waiting for her without fail. It had crossed her mind many times to wonder how he was leaving Cambridge so early, and whether it was an easy thing to do.
When she saw him waiting the first night after his arrest she told him not to bother, that she could get herself home. He’d responded tersely that something was still wrong in the neighborhood, and he would not let her go home alone. She allowed him to walk her home but they didn’t make more than the most casual conversation. He didn’t suggest that they pop into a local shop he’d passed the night before to investigate the delightful things inside. He didn’t ask if she was hungry.
He didn’t reach for her hand.
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry by this.
She didn’t reach for his.
She did the cooking and the washing and cleaning, but they seemed to be existing in a different space from one another. If they’d been on the TARDIS the solution would have been easy. Avoid each other for a while, or take a trip someplace new to forget about the issue at hand. If nothing else, Rose could have simply asked to go home.
The Doctor, the one who had once loathed personal entanglements of all and any kinds, wanted her to talk to him again. To look at him, to yell at him, to smack him again. Anything other than the coldness she was showing him. This was how complicated, tangled relationships were. Fighting and silence and angry thoughts, and this was why he wanted nothing to do with the entire business.
Then he would contradict his own thoughts by wondering what the hell it was that Rose wanted from him, and how could he give it to her so she would smile at him again.
Instead of trying to find out, the Doctor put himself on a sort of autopilot. He took the earliest train possible into Cambridge each morning, damning himself all the way for so thoughtlessly choosing such a distant place to work and hide. The irony of trying to avoid London and his old acquaintances, only to end up facing the first human he’d ever travelled with, was irritating and thrown in his face at least once a week, when the science faculty had their interminably long and boring meetings. Ian was present at many of those meetings, and the Doctor hated having to look him in the eye. He hated hearing the rumors regarding Ian and Barbara and their disappearance and return to England. Some of the rumors were rude and salacious and he wanted to knock the speakers out.
Ian appeared well aware of those rumors. Sometimes an angry look would cross his face, or his mouth would tighten as though he were forcing himself not to say something, but he never gave more of a reaction than that. The Doctor longed to intervene, but he knew that to do so would draw attention to himself, and that was something he could not do.
Instead he waited for his dissertation to be typed out - what he wouldn’t give for a good computer and dictation program rather than one overworked secretary! - and taught his classes and tried to hide his boredom with all things academic and human.
He felt his breaking point coming and feared what he might do when it came.
It was the end of October when Rose had had enough. Four long days of forcing herself to ignore him had taken its toll on her. That Wednesday morning she got ready for work much later than usual and was surprised to find the Doctor in the kitchen, packing up a leather bag. Whether he was grading papers, writing his dissertation or writing a novel Rose had no idea, and at the moment she really didn’t give a damn what he got up to.
“Good morning!” he said, obviously surprised to see her.
“Morning,” she said shortly.
Uncertainty flashed across his face, but he persevered. He hated the tension between them. “Would you like to walk to the shop together? I can catch a different-”
“No, thanks.” Rose felt like she was kicking a puppy at the downcast look on his face. “I’m okay.” That was as far as she was willing to bend, even if she was aware that she was acting like a right witch toward him.
“How long are you going to do this, Rose?” His voice had changed, become lower and rougher, and she saw a flash of the Oncoming Storm before he forced it down again. “You know why I told you to stay here that night. I had to go along with the police.”
A well of stubbornness would not let her speak. She could only glare at him.
“All right.” The Doctor abruptly picked up his bag. “Be safe, Rose.” He left the flat before she could say another word, and she wondered why she had gotten up so early if she was just going to be rude to him. He had extended another reconciliation attempt. Why couldn’t she accept it?
She silently fumed to herself as she gathered her bag and lunch and left for work. She passed Mrs. MacMurray on the ground floor, about to enter her flat.
“Good morning,” Rose said, making herself be polite and sociable. “How are you feeling these days?”
The shock of the murder had made the poor old woman struggle to breathe, and she’d been taken to hospital overnight as a precaution. Rose had been looking in on her every evening since she came home - she’d been alone since her husband had died and Rose felt bad for her.
The older woman smiled ruefully. “I’m getting too old for this nonsense, Rose. All this fuss and bother and now everyone’s worried for my health! I’m going to go visit my sister in Cardiff for a bit. Settle my nerves.”
Rose hitched her bag over her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do?”
Mrs. MacMurray smiled. “Just pay the rent on time, my dear. I have someone who will be minding the building for me while I’m gone. I’ll be handing round his name and number tonight.”
“All right, then. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
As Rose stepped out onto the street a gust of wind blew by. As she fought with her skirt to keep it from flying too far above her knees, she bumped into the postman.
“Sorry!” he exclaimed, grabbing her arm to steady her. “So sorry, miss.”
“It’s okay.” Rose won the battle with her skirt and looked at him for the first time. He was a carrier she’d never seen before. “Oh! Joe still away?”
He looked puzzled. “I don’t know who Joe is. This is my new route. Started today.”
“The last carrier said he’d gone on holiday.”
He smiled at her, a nice man in his early forties. “Maybe he liked his holiday so much he didn’t want to come back.”
He laughed at his own joke and continued on, leaving Rose to roll her eyes and go to the shop.
Mr. Troy had moved up the grand opening date even though the renovations weren’t complete. On the far side of the shop, where the menswear department would be, Jim’s coworkers were trying to finish building cabinets and display cases. Jim was drawing up plans for the new storefront so it would match Helio’s current design. When he wasn’t working on that, he was drawing plans to scale for a new sales counter for the till to sit on and Rose and Iris to stand behind as they rang up customers. It was a large wooden structure that was slightly higher than Rose’s waist. Having seen the drawings Jim had made up for it, Rose thought it was rather a basic thing to have custom-made, but then Jim had pointed out the elaborate carvings it would have when it was finished.
“Rather baroque, isn’t it?” Iris commented with a sniff.
Jim shrugged and carried on with his careful pencil drawing. “It’s what the boss wants.”
“It does look nice,” Rose said, peering over his shoulder as he knelt on the floor beside the current sales counter.
“That’s a lot of carving on custom wood,” Iris added. “Who’s going to do it?”
Jim glanced up at her. “I am.”
“You?” Iris said in surprise.
Jim winked at Rose. “I’m very good with my hands.”
Work was awful that day. A very well-dressed woman walked in before lunch, wearing a light-green suit, hat and white gloves. She had the appearance of a well-mannered, wealthy woman, but she turned out to be incredibly arrogant, condescending and clearly thought very little about shop girls.
“I told you I wanted this dress in the blue!” she snapped at Rose, when she very clearly had said the yellow.
“I’m so sorry,” Rose said, forcing a smile. “Let me get that for you.”
Rose brought the wrong colors, the wrong sizes, and had no idea what shoes went with slacks and a blouse. By the time the woman had left the shop, Rose was exhausted, and not even the thought of the nice fat commission she’d earned was enough to make the morning worth it.
To make things even better, she tripped on a crack in the floor. She stumbled, righted herself, and stumbled again when the heel of her shoe snapped off.
“Damn it!” she exclaimed, hopping on one foot.
“Oh, no,” Iris cried. “Are you all right?”
“It’s not fair,” Rose said, trying not to cry. Ordinarily this would never have fazed her, but coming on the heels of the worst weeks of her life with the Doctor it was enough to completely ruin her day.
“I know it’s not,” Iris said sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Rose.”
“That woman was a right pain in the arse,” Jim said from his position at the counter beside Iris. “How can you let people like that in here?”
“People like that are the reason this shop stays open,” Iris reminded him.
“Maybe, but she was still a bossy witch,” he retorted.
“She was,” Iris agreed with a sigh, not even reprimanding him for using a word as strong as witch.
And there was the other reason Rose’s day was going poorly. After weeks and weeks of snapping at one another, Iris and Jim were getting along. This just made it obvious that Rose was not getting along with the Doctor. She felt terrible even thinking that she preferred the two of them to be fighting if she was so miserable.
Rose gathered all the garments that had been tried on and discarded. She tired of limping after only two steps, and kicked off both of her shoes.
“Here,” Jim said, leaving his own work and picking up her shoes. “I can fix this heel in no time.”
Rose smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”
“Rose, do you want to go to lunch now?” Iris asked.
Rose sighed. “I’ll just eat in the back. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I’ll join you. We’ll hear the bell if anyone comes in.”
“I am right here,” Jim reminded her. “I’ll call if someone needs you.”
“Thank you,” Iris said. “If it’s no trouble.”
“None at all,” he assured her. “I’m right here, anyway.”
The skylight had been installed by professionals over the weekend. Jim had just spent the better part of an hour moving a shipment of packing boxes into the partially renovated space awaiting display shelves for men’s shoes and ties and empty clothes racks awaiting suits, shirts and some truly awful leisure suits that Rose had caught sight of while opening up a shipping manifest.
Now Jim pushed his drawings aside. “I think I have what I need among my tools.”
“Remember to say the name of the shop if the phone rings and I don’t pick up in time,” Iris couldn’t resist saying over her shoulder.
Jim rolled his eyes. “All right.”
“And the grand opening is scheduled for the third of November.”
“I know.”
“And if Mr. Troy rings, please come and get me.”
This time Jim turned back to face her. “What else would I do if he rings?” he demanded.
Iris looked flustered. “Of course. Sorry.”
“Go eat your lunch,” he said, and left for the far side of the shop.
Rose and Iris ate quickly, chatting over the latest Vogue magazine. Rose was finally relaxing when Iris took a deep breath.
“Rose, are you all right?”
“What?” Rose blinked at her over her cup of water.
“Are you feeling all right? The last few days you haven’t been yourself. Even Jim’s noticed.”
“I’m all right.” Rose looked down at the table top.
“You can talk to me, you know. You’ve been looking tired. Are you feeling ill?” Iris leaned forward. “Are you...are you expecting?”
“Expecting what?” Rose asked blankly.
Iris smiled. “You know! A baby. Sometimes you don’t realize it right away. My sister didn’t know until she was four months gone.”
Rose opened her mouth and then closed it again. “I’m not having a baby,” she said firmly. “We’ve just...we’ve been arguing,” she said impulsively.
“I know John is at the university a lot,” Iris said. “But he’s always here to walk you home. It’s very sweet.”
Rose smiled slightly. “It’s not about work. He’s doing what he has to. That other night, when they found that dead man in our building...he did something I didn’t want him to do, and we can’t get over it.”
Iris was silent for a moment. The murder had made the news, although Rose’s involvement in it had not been made public. Rose had confided in her about the trip to the police station and some of what had happened afterwards, but even though Iris was the closest friend she had, she hadn’t been able to tell her everything.
“He...he didn’t do it, did he?” Iris’s voice was very quiet, as though she didn’t want to offend Rose. “There’s no way he could have killed that man?”
Rose sighed. “No, nothing like that! Of course he didn’t do it! I mean, they’ve already caught the man who did it. It’s just that he made me stay at the flat!” she burst out. “While they took him away, he told me to just stay there!”
Iris looked surprised. “What else should you have done?”
“I could have gone with him and waited at the station! Or I could have investigated around the building.” Rose’s voice trailed off as she heard her thoughts spoken out loud for the first time.
“Wait at the station? At night?” Iris was clearly horrified. “Do you know the kinds of people that get arrested in London? That’s no place for a woman.”
Rose clenched her teeth together to keep from replying. Just when she was getting comfortable in this time period, something came up that reminded her that she was nowhere close to where she was supposed to be.
“I could handle it,” was all she said.
Iris didn’t not look convinced, and why should she? Normal women did not go to police stations at night to wait while their husbands were being questioned in a murder investigation. They sat at home and waited by the telephone. Rose gave it up as a lost cause. If Iris knew half the things Rose had done, she would never believe it. And those were just the things before the Doctor came into her life and blew up her job.
“I know it was safer and all that to stay put. But he didn’t even ring me to let me know what was happening! I mean, he can be self-absorbed and inconsiderate and rude, but a single phone call would not have been out of line!” Rose paused and took a bite of her sandwich, aware that she was acting as unpredictably and petulantly as a little girl.
Iris hesitated. “I’m not married, so I shouldn’t give you advice. But if you just talked it over, maybe you could clear things up.”
Rose bit her lip. “Is it wrong that I don’t want to clear things up yet? I know it’s wrong, but I just want to be mad for a while.”
Iris startled her by laughing. “That can’t be the best way to fix things.”
“Maybe not,” Rose admitted with a small grin. “But I’m still mad at him.”
The shop was empty when they returned from their lunch break. Thanks to the new skylight, the space looked much brighter. As one, Rose and Iris looked up at the ceiling.
“That’s so pretty,” Iris said.
“It looks like it’s always been there,” Rose added.
Jim surveyed the work and nodded in satisfaction. “It does look good.”
Iris was walking around with her eyes fixed on the glass. “It brings in a lot of light,” she said. “Maybe I can dim the lights on sunny days.” As she spoke she took a small step backwards. The heel of her shoe caught on something and she stumbled. Jim caught her from behind before she could fall.
“You all right?” he asked as he steadied her.
“Yes.” Iris looked at the floor. “That was strange.”
“You must have tripped over your own feet,” Rose said humorously. “At least I tripped on the floor.”
Iris looked up at Jim. “Thank you.”
He looked down at her. “You’re welcome.”
They stood that way for a very long moment. Rose fidgeted back and forth on her feet but neither one said anything. Finally she cleared her throat. They looked at her in surprise, and Jim let go of Iris’s arm.
“I’ll just tally up the bank deposit,” Iris said briskly, stepping away.
“I’m meeting the other blokes for lunch,” Jim said absently, watching her walk to the till. “I’ll be back in an hour. Your shoe is ready for you, Rose. Just don’t take any long walks on bumpy streets.”
She raised her hand as if to swear an oath. He smirked at her and handed the shoe back to her before he left. Rose slipped both shoes on her feet and looked up to find Iris staring at Jim’s retreating figure with frown.
“You okay?” she asked.
Iris started. “Yes. Sorry. I was thinking about...something else.”
Rose was about to demand to know what it was, but the shop’s door opened again, and a girl with curly blonde hair came in. She didn’t look like the shop’s normal clientele - she was wearing a very short skirt in an orange and blue plaid pattern, with a bright orange silk blouse. Rose wondered how she kept from freezing outside.
“Can I help you?” Iris asked politely.
The girl glanced over at them as she slowly walked around the sales floor.
“This is Helio, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes.” Iris was too polite to say anything, but she did glance at the window, where the name Helio was painted in bright yellow.
“Ladies’ clothing, yeah?”
Rose exchanged an incredulous look with Iris. Did she not see the dresses and skirts all about her?
“Yes, it is,” Rose confirmed, as the girl walked around, studying the carpet. At that moment, despite the cold weather, the sun came out again, beaming in through the windows of the shop and down through the skylight.
The girl abruptly picked up a silky scarf pattered in a geometric print.
“I’ll take this one,” she said to Iris, who was still standing behind the till.
“Of course,” Iris murmured.
The girl accepted her wrapped package and glanced at Rose. Her skin was lightly tanned, as though she’d been on holiday in some warm place. For a moment in the sunshine it seemed to glow. The girl glanced up at the skylight and smiled.
Work was awful that day. Absolutely, without a doubt, the most awful, tedious, awfully tedious day he could imagine. What had possessed him to take up a job at Cambridge in the masquerade of a student? He had done many stupid things in his long life, but this was perhaps the stupidest in a long time.
Ian Chesterton confirmed his suspicions.
“This is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to sit through,” he muttered to the Doctor. “And you’d be amazed at what I’ve had to sit through.”
“They just don’t pay us enough to do this,” the Doctor agreed under his breath.
The weekly faculty meeting, a time when the senior professors chose to drone on and on about academic minutiae, leaving the rest to try and pay attention. The Doctor didn’t need to look at the clock to know that if this went on much longer, he would never be able to leave in time to get back to London before Rose was done with work.
The meeting broken up, the Doctor jumped up with just a nod to the others in the room.
“Smith! A word, please.”
The Doctor groaned to himself and turned to face Roger Reynolds, a physics professor and a dead ringer for Oliver Cromwell, if he but knew it. Reynolds was tolerable, which was more than the Doctor could say for Cromwell. He was also the Doctor’s assigned advisor.
“How is your research coming along, Smith?”
“Very well, very well.” The Doctor forced a smile. “Just waiting for my dissertation to be typed up.”
Reynolds stared at him. “Typed up? Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Most unusual, Smith! I haven’t even looked it over! Not doing my job if I don’t!”
Once again the Doctor cursed academia.
“Well, remember, Roger, I did much of my research before I came to Cambridge.”
Reynolds made a loud, derisive sound in his throat. “Yes, yes, I remember. Unusual university, wasn’t it? Gallymoody or something?”
“Gallifrey,” the Doctor said through clenched teeth.
“Irish,” Reynolds sniffed. “Well, we’ll see what your Irish advisors thought of your work. Let me know when it’s ready.”
Only the thought that he was stuck in this time with no way out kept the Doctor from delivering a mighty insult. The hardest part of pretending to be human was having to act human all the time. And human males in this time period did not just sabotage their employment prospects for no reason. He had Rose to take care of, and he could not be irresponsible.
In the event that they were trapped here longer than he anticipated, he could not burn his bridges with anyone.
So he merely said, “I will,” and walked in the opposite direction from Reynolds.
He’d already graded the last batch of exam papers, and he had to know the status of his dissertation. He hurried to the secretaries’ office.
The only woman in the room was one he’d never seen before.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m looking for-”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Smith!” she cried. “I really am so, so sorry!”
The Doctor was puzzled. Nothing about his interactions with the secretaries made any sense. “What are you sorry for?”
“I know your dissertation was being typed up, but the girl who was working on it is...is gone.”
He was not expecting this. “Gone? As in gone?”
“I don’t know if she quit or if she was sacked. I’ve been trying to find your papers - ”
He was stunned. “You’ve lost my dissertation? Before I could even have my advisor read it over?”
The girl wrung her hands. “I’m still looking, I swear!”
For a normal man, the loss of a dissertation paper would mean at least a year’s worth of lost work. The Doctor took a deep breath. He could rewrite it very quickly if necessary. Maybe he should just buy a typewriter.
“Please let me know by tomorrow if you’ve found it.”
He left the university twenty minutes later, utterly exhausted. This daily grind of working and teaching was not at all enjoyable. Now to meet Rose at the shop. If she still refused to speak to him his evening really would be complete. in the back of his mind her was very much aware of how ridiculous their argument was, but until she was willing to speak to him about it, he felt like his hands were tied.
As he left the building to head for the train station, he heard someone call his name.
“Smith! Hold the door for me, will you?”
The Doctor turned around and saw Ian heading his way, his arms full of boxes. He held the door open so Ian could walk outside.
Thanks,” Ian grunted, trying to steady his boxes.
“Do you need help?”
“Could you just fish about in my pocket for my car key?”
The Doctor obligingly patted down Ian’s coat pocket, removing the car key and placing it into Ian’s fingers.
“Thanks.”
“You need some help?” The Doctor asked the question even though he really felt the need to stay far away from his old companion.
“I’ve got them,” Ian said easily. “Just a few things to bring home to research. A little project that my wife and I are working on.”
“Your wife?”
“Barbara. You’ll meet her at Christmas, I reckon. All the fun academic parties and all that.” Ian grimaced to show that he was not looking forward to it. “She’s helping me with some of the details.”
He clearly did not want to say anymore, but the perverse streak in the Doctor made him ask anyway. “What is the project about?”
“Oh, nothing special,” Ian replied lightly. “The effects of aging on the human body. Not my field, obviously, but Barbara has an interest.”
They had walked to the edge of the car park, and Ian turned to walk to his car.
“Have a good night, Smith.”
“You, too,” the Doctor responded, and watched Ian walk away. To his car, to his family, to his rightful life that had started once he left the TARDIS behind.
They closed the shop up a few minutes past five. Although Rose kept glancing at the door, the Doctor did not appear. Even though she had been cold to him the past few days, he had continued to meet her. The disappearances and murder had rattled him slightly. Even though she knew who had killed their unknown neighbor, Rose was a little rattled, too.
But tonight he wasn’t there.
In the back of her mind was the worry that something had happened to him. Rose forced it aside and waved goodbye to Iris. She started off for home, and as she walked she began to feel ridiculous. Here the Doctor had been walking her home all this time, and what was there to be afraid of? There were people all around her, and they weren’t afraid to walk home and walk to the shop and to the pub. They laughed and talked and didn’t act like they were in imminent danger. Why should she?
Rose walked at a brisk pace, not because of a fear of danger but because the weather was getting colder and her dress didn’t cover her knees. She was eager to get home and put on something warmer.
She had almost reached the flat when she stopped in surprise. Coming out of the building, looking around, was Billy Shipton.
He saw her and grinned in relief, waving an arm at her in greeting.
“Billy!” Rose laughed in delight and hurried to give him a hug. “How are you?”
“I’m doing good. How about you?” Billy set her back on her feet.
“I”m good.” Rose forced a smile to her face. “What are you doing here?”
His face changed from friendly to angry. “Are you kidding me? I was doing some work out in the Lakes District, filming a commercial. I come back today and pick up an old paper and see that there was a murder done here in the building! I came to make sure you’re all right!”
“Of course we are!” Rose was insulted that he felt the need to check on them.
“I would have come sooner, if I’d known.”
“You couldn’t have done anything,” she pointed out. “Not like you’ve got any of your big-shot police connections.”
He smiled suddenly. “Well, then, maybe I just missed you. Where’s the Doctor?” He glanced around.
“Still at work, I imagine,” Rose said carelessly.
“Let’s go get a bite to eat, then. He won’t mind if I borrow his pretty girl for a while.”
“He won’t mind at all,” Rose said defiantly. He glanced at her but didn’t say anything else.
They went to the neighborhood pub, which was surprisingly busy for the middle of the week. Billy grabbed a table and placed their orders while Rose went to the loo to fix the damage the wind had done to her hair. She’d done it up in a teased bouffant that morning, and was relieved to see that the wind had ruined that style. She wasn’t fond of it. She used her comb to comb her hair straight and left it down. When she returned, the server was just setting their drinks down, and Jeff was sitting across from Billy, talking animatedly.
“Hello!” Jeff stood up and gave Rose a brief kiss on the cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Rose folded her coat over the back of her chair and sat down beside Billy. “How are you?”
“Ran away from work early to meet Kitty for a bite.” Jeff grinned at her.
Rose perked up. “Really? Kitty? As friends or more?”
Jeff snagged a chip from the basket the server placed before Rose. “Well, friends right now. But I’m wearing her down, don’t worry.”
Billy chuckled. “Women have different ideas about friendship, mate. Good luck.”
“I’ll need it. Thanks.” Jeff ate another chip.
“Thank you, Jeff,” Rose said suddenly. “For what you did that night. I’m sorry I haven’t thanked you properly.” Tears gathered in her eyes, to the alarm of both men.
“It was nothing,” he assured her hastily. “Really! I would have gone myself, but it’s not exactly my area. Not much use in that case, I’m afraid.”
“What did you do?” Billy asked curiously.
“Didn’t do anything, really,” Jeff said, but Rose interrupted him.
“He was brilliant, Billy! He called a friend and asked him to go represent the Doct- John - at the station.”
“I’m a solicitor,” Jeff said simply. “Nothing special. Just the wrong one for that case.”
“His family runs the firm!” Rose couldn’t help saying.
“What firm?” Billy asked curiously.
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Why do people always think the law is so interesting? My grandfather founded a firm here in London with a schoolmate. My father and uncle both followed in his footsteps, but my dad moved to Manchester for my mum. When my uncle died we came back to London so dad could join the family firm. I was only eight.”
“So that’s why you don’t have much of an accent,” Billy noted.
Jeff looked offended. “Look who’s talking!”
The light coming to the table was suddenly blocked. All three turned and looked up.
The Doctor stood there, looking absolutely furious.
Thirty-eight