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'I'm not an escaped lunatic, and I promise that in time you'll understand all the ... peculiarities of this situation. But I do need help. Because I have good reason to believe that Ruth – or whatever her true name is –could be putting certain people here in danger:

Those words changed everything for Nina. Feeling as though she had suddenly swallowed an ice dagger, she stopped with her hand half way to the glass again, and her tension was palpable. 'Danger?' she repeated, very softly.

'Yes. I'm sorry if it sounds over-dramatic, but I'm not exaggerating. Ruth doesn't belong here, you see.'

'I could have told you that! She's a complete townie —'

'No, no. I mean it much more literally. She does not belong on this planet, Nina. She is not human. She is not from Earth, but from what you would call an alien world.'

'What?' The word came out as half squeak and half snort. Outraged at this madness, Nina started to push her chair back

'And it's my job to find out which world she comes from, and to get her back there before she kills anyone else.'

Nina froze halfway to her feet. 'Kills ...'

'Quietly, Nina, please. I'd prefer not to be overheard.'

She sagged back on to the chair, and ran her tongue nervously round her own lips. 'Are you talking about ... Charlie Johns?' Her voice was under control now and she kept it to a whisper.

The Doctor nodded. 'Yes.'

'You're saying Ruth murdered him?'

'No, I'm not saying that. I don't think there was anything intentional about it. But I suspect his death was a side effect, as it were, of her presence in the village.'

Nina had more wine; not a sip this time but a sizeable gulp. She hoped it would melt the ice dagger, but it didn't.

'Let me get this straight,' she said at last. 'You're asking me to believe that Ruth is an alien, from another planet – ET, and First Contact, and all that science fiction stuff?'

'Yes.'

'Right. Right. And I suppose you're going to say that you're from another planet, too?'

The answer was immediate, emphatic, and as natural as if she had asked him the time of day. 'Yes.'

Nina couldn't decide whether she wanted to scream, laugh or burst into tears. She was saved from making the decision by the return of the waiter with their meals. The food looked and smelled wonderful, and she didn't have a hope in hell of being able to eat it. The Doctor, though, twisted black pepper over his plate, then speared a potato and put it in his mouth.

'Mm. Excellent.' He sipped his wine, regarding her. 'Oh, dear. I rather think I've upset you.'

She could have said, yes, you have, because I don't believe a word you've told me and I think you're completely out of your tree. But deep inside her, all but buried under the confusion, a small voice was saying, hang on ... Above all else the Doctor struck her as open, honest, genuine; perhaps more genuine than almost anyone she had ever met. The crazy thing was, her instinct was telling her to believe him. The even crazier thing was, she was convinced that her instinct was right 'OK,' she said eventually, deciding on a new tack. 'Ruth's an alien. You're an alien. If you've both managed to get here, then your — civilisations — must be very advanced.'

'True. Try the duck; it's splendid.'

She ignored that, trying to hang on to the thread of her argument. 'You're much more advanced than humans, because the furthest humans have ever gone is the Moon.'

'Your moon. Yes.'

She eyed him suspiciously. 'You're not trying to tell me you're from the Moon?'

'Of course not. No atmosphere; no life form could survive. Anyway, the Apollo missions would have discovered us.'

'Sure they would. So. Where was I?'

'The relative sophistication of different civilisations.'

'Yeah. Right. So ... if you're so advanced, how come you need a

human being's help to sort your problem out? And picking on me — I mean, I'm nothing special; I'm not a scientist or a cosmologist or whatever — I'm just an ordinary