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By Root 456 0

half hour. All very well to get fantasy-romantic because she had walked up the road on the arm of a good-looking guy (he had insisted on taking her arm – another weirdly dated thing) and was being taken out for dinner at the most expensive place for miles. fine. Great. Fantasise away, Nina. But where the guy himself was concerned, Nina had some very immediate questions to which she wanted very immediate answers.

Her companion put down the menu and said, 'The Barbary Duck for me, I think. I can't resist that cherry sauce. Oh – but are you vegetarian? I wouldn't want to offend you.'

'No. Not very, anyway – I mean, I don't eat red meat, but –' Then suddenly the whole conversation seemed like a red herring (no pun intended, she told herself) and she sat back in the chair and gave him what she hoped was a challenging stare. 'Look, this is nuts!' Her hand came down hard on the table; nearby heads turned curiously and she made herself lower her voice. 'I mean, thanks for buying me dinner and all that, but – who the hell are you?'

He smiled that smile. 'I told you. I'm the Doctor.'

'Yeah, I know that, you said you're a doctor. But what of? Medicine? Philosophy? Spin?'

'None of those – and a little of all of them. I'm not a doctor of anything, in the usual sense. It's ... well, for want of a better explanation, it's my name. Or at least, it's what everyone calls me.'

'Doctor?'

'Yes.'

'But it isn't a name, is it? You must be called something else.'

'No.'

'Peter. Or David. Or ...' She tried to find something less mundane, that suited him better. 'Tristram?'

'What about John Smith?' he asked with a smile.

'Just, Doctor?'

'Yes.' Smile again. 'Sorry.'

'Ohh ...' She was about to add an expletive but remembered in time where she was. 'All right. All right. If you say you're called Doctor, then I'll call you it, even if it makes me feel like a prize prat. Anyway, that's not the important thing –'

He interrupted. 'Absolutely. Names are merely convenient labels.'

'Yes. Probably.' She flapped her hands. 'Look, will you let me get to

what I want to say!'

'Of course. Sorry.'

'Right.' Nina drew a deep breath and wished she went to yoga classes, which were supposed to help at times like this. 'OK. Right. I want to ask you another question.'

'Ask away.'

Stay calm. 'I saw into the room. At your cottage. There was something in there. You know what I'm talking about.' Her head came up and she glared at him. 'What's it doing there, and how the hell did you get it through the door?'

He said, 'I didn't. Getting it through the door would have been a logistical impossibility. And as to what it is ...' For the first time since she had begun to observe him, he looked — very slightly — at a loss. 'It really is very hard to explain, especially when the whole concept of the TARDIS is probably quite new to you. Oh — oh, yes, thank you, I think we're ready to order.' The surfing waiter had returned, set down an open wine bottle and two glasses, and was hovering. 'Barbary Duck for me, please. And for you, Nina?'

Nina hadn't even glanced at the menu but was staring at him over the top of it. She didn't seem to have heard, and the Doctor prompted gently, 'Nina? Food?'

'Uh?' She blinked as the question and the waiter's presence registered. 'I ... Anything. The same. Yes; the same. Fine.'

'And new potatoes and mixed vegetables for two. Thank you.' The waiter went away, and Nina glared at his departing back as though he were a deadly enemy before leaning across the table and hissing, 'TARDIS?'

'Maybe,' the Doctor said gently, 'it would be better if we approached this another way, and began with the matter of Ruth'

'Yeah? I'm starting to think that maybe it'd be better if I got up and walked out of here, right now.'

'Why? Do you think I'm an escaped lunatic?'

It was exactly what she did think, but the directness of the question threw her. Seeing it, he smiled and poured wine for them both. 'Try that. Good for breaking the ice. Then we'll discuss Ruth'

Nina obeyed before she knew it, picking