Doctor Who_ Interference_ Book Two - Lawrence Miles [85]
– I can’t believe I just thought that –
– might turn out to be stuffed full of secret Time Lord hormones.
The night before, Sarah and Sam had been up until 4 a.m., swapping companion stories. They had a frightening amount in common. Sam had been particularly interested in the circumstances of Sarah’s departure from the TARDIS, which was problematic, as Sarah couldn’t really remember much. It had all been a bit rushed, actually.
The truth had come out at about two o’clock. Sam was getting ready to leave the Doctor, she’d said. And he knew it. The Doctor had vanished earlier in the evening, saying he had to pick up a new jacket from somewhere in April 1963. Sarah suspected he hadn’t wanted to face the embarrassment of spending one last night with his outgoing assistant.
Now the TARDIS was parked in the dining room, after Sarah had complained about the mess it made of the Persian rug, and last goodbyes were being said. The Doctor was still reeling from the shock of what Sam had just told him.
‘You can’t stay here,’ he spluttered. ‘Not in 1996. You won’t even meet me until next year. There’ll be two of you running around London. Think of the consequences…’
‘You know what I told you,’ Sam said, sternly. ‘The next time the TARDIS goes to Earth, I get off. And this is it.’
‘But surely –’
‘No.’
‘I could take you forward –’
‘No.’ Sam grinned at Sarah. ‘We’ve figured it out. I’m going to be staying here. Sarah’s got a couple of big projects lined up in the next year or so. She’s going to need help. And there’s a spare room here, so I won’t get in the way of… you know. Her private life.’
‘I’m hoping there’ll be a Nobel Prize in this somewhere,’ Sarah added.
‘Either that or we’ll end up bringing down Western civilisation,’ said Sam.
The Doctor’s eyes looked like they were ready to pop. ‘But your parents…’
‘I’ll go back to them. The same day I left. Next year.’
‘You’ll look six years older!’
‘I’ll tell them I’ve had my hair cut. What can they do? If your daughter comes home from school looking older than she’s supposed to, you don’t start asking yourself whether she’s been off in outer space, do you? You just put it down to puberty.’
The Doctor looked up at the ceiling. Sarah wondered if he might actually be praying. ‘This must be in the equations,’ he muttered. ‘Careless.’
‘I’ll look after her,’ Sarah said. ‘I know a thing or two about Time Lord hangovers. When I was with you, back in the seventies…’ She tailed off, and frowned. ‘Hang on. Or was it the eighties?’
‘Temporal slippage,’ said the Doctor. ‘My fault, I’m afraid. I think it’s currently the 1970s, but –’
‘Enough of the technobabble,’ said Sam.
She walked up to him, then, and put her arms around his waist. He responded, without hesitation. This Doctor, thought Sarah, was so much more tactile than either of hers had been.
‘I’m going,’ said Sam. ‘I mean… I’m staying.’
‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I know.’
And then she looked up at him, right into his eyes. Their faces, noted Sarah, were about an inch away from each other.
‘I love you,’ said Sam.
The Doctor looked up at the ceiling again.
‘Do you know, I know exactly what you mean by that,’ he said. So Sam let go of him, and took a few steps back. They quite deliberately and carefully didn’t kiss. Not even in a friendly sort of way. The Doctor suddenly seemed to notice Sarah again.
‘Well, goodbye again,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, K9.’
K9 trundled out from under the dining-room table. ‘Master.’
‘Where? Oh, I see.’ The Doctor shook his head. ‘You know, I still can’t believe I programmed your vocabulary bank to say that.’ He turned back to Sarah. ‘I’ll come to your wedding one day. I promise. I will receive your invitation, don’t worry.’
‘No hurry.’ Sarah stepped forward, gave him a brief – cautious – hug, and moved away again. ‘You’d better go. You’ve got two grumpy Remote people in