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Doctor Who_ Father Time Part 30

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The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. The drive home from Dinah's had pa.s.sed in silence the Doctor so relieved to see his daughter alive that he hadn't asked her why she seemed so upset. 'She's safe, that's the important thing.'

'And she's in the fifth form?' Debbie asked.

'That's right.'

'Does Miranda remember anything about her home? Her real real home?' Even in the privacy of the Doctor's kitchen, she couldn't help but speak cryptically. home?' Even in the privacy of the Doctor's kitchen, she couldn't help but speak cryptically.

'Her real home is here,' the Doctor said firmly. 'But, no: remember, she was only a month or two old when she came here. She doesn't need to know. I want her to have a normal upbringing.'



'She doesn't know she's an alien?'

'She doesn't need to know,' the Doctor repeated.

'OK. So I'll be careful what I say. What have you told her?'

'I've told her everything about me. Well, nearly everything. She knows I'm older than I look; she knows I don't know who I am. She doesn't know anything about time travel; I didn't tell her anything Zevron told me.'

'What have you told Miranda about her her?'

The Doctor smiled over at her. 'Well, you know she thinks her parents died in a car accident. That's it, really. She knows she's different. I've helped her come to terms with that, taught her some tricks holding her breath for a long time, a bit of self-hypnosis.'

'When are you going to tell her?'

He looked at her, puzzled.

'You'll have to,' Debbie insisted. 'She must be nearly old enough to know.'

'The Dawkinses wanted her to have a normal life. We find Ferran, we stop him, then everything gets back to normal.'

The Doctor returned his attention to the coffee maker, the conversation over.

There was a creak on the stairs, and a moment later Miranda entered the kitchen.

'Morning.'

Miranda had been quite a late developer, but she'd made up for it now. She had a fantastic figure (she'd been a keen swimmer, Debbie remembered), she'd got a loose perm. In her school blazer, with a big grin on her face, she reminded Debbie of the Doctor. She had the same confidence, the same slightly otherworldly air. And she clutched her lapels as he was wont to do when he was particularly pleased with himself.

'Good morning, Mrs Castle.'

'You can call me Debbie.'

'You look well.'

A twinge of guilt... Her husband, the man she'd been married to, had been butchered, just a couple of days ago, but she felt better than she had in years. The last time Miranda had seen her, she'd been the dumpy, put-upon housewife. Now she was free. A horrible slogan on one of those posters in the sports centre came to mind: TODAY IS IS THE THE F FIRST D DAY OF OF THE THE R REST OF OF Y YOUR L LIFE.

'Thank you,' she said.

'You're going to school today?' the Doctor asked.

Miranda looked a little confused. 'I didn't realise it was optional.'

The Doctor nodded his head, clearly worried, but not saying anything. Surely not telling Miranda about Ferran would put her in more jeopardy? Debbie quickly suppressed the urge to tell Miranda everything that there was an alien prince on her trail, out to a.s.sa.s.sinate her. Where would she start? As a teacher, she'd got used to respecting parents' wishes, however misguided and dangerous she thought they were.

The Doctor had kept Miranda virtually housebound yesterday. He'd even been nervous when she'd gone out into the garden. But, of course, he wasn't telling her the reason for her house arrest, and his daughter was getting a little jittery.

It was also clear that something had upset her at the party she'd been to. The Doctor, bless him, didn't have the radar to spot boyfriend trouble, but Debbie could tell. She didn't know Miranda anything like well enough to talk to her about it, though.

'Just be careful,' the Doctor told his daughter, glancing at the security monitor. 'There's someone out there,' he said. 'Wait here.'

Bob gazed through the gates.

It was a huge house, and there was no sign of Miranda. But he knew which bus she caught, and he knew roughly what time she would have to leave the house to catch it.

Suddenly there was a man standing there. He was about forty, with long light-brown hair and a long black coat.

'What are you doing here?' he asked.

'I'm waiting for Miranda,' Bob said.

The man stared at him, watching him for something.

'I'm... you know, a friend. I'm not a stalker or a murderer or anything.'

The man's eyes narrowed. 'I didn't say you were. Why are you waiting for my daughter?'

Daughter?

'You're the Doctor, yeah?'

'Don't you recognise me?'

'We've never met, have we?'

Bob was surprised how young Miranda's dad was. Forty wasn't too implausible: he'd have been twenty-four when Miranda was born; so he'd have been right in the middle of his doctorate. Then Bob remembered: Miranda was adopted, so he could be even younger.

If he hadn't known she was adopted, he'd never have guessed. She looked just like her stepfather same height, they stood the same way, very upright. They had the same blue eyes and pale skin. The Doctor also had that same unnerving stare. Miranda could look into his eyes and it was as if she was staring into his soul.

Bob wriggled, a little uncomfortable under the Doctor's scrutiny, and tried desperately to think pure thoughts.

'I'm Bob. Miranda might have mentioned me,' Bob said, wincing a little: this was the point where he was castrated for betraying this man's daughter. 'I'm her boyfriend,' he added, when it became clear that her dad didn't know him from Adam.

'Miranda doesn't have a boyfriend,' the Doctor stated, with absolute certainty.

'It's OK, it's just Bob.'

They both turned to see Miranda standing there with her schoolbag slung over her shoulder.

'Can we talk?' Bob pleaded.

The Doctor looked at them, from one to the other.

'Your boyfriend?' he asked.

Miranda bit her lip, obviously unwilling to explain. 'A friend who's a boy.'

The Doctor was grinning, mistaking her reticence for coyness. 'Splendid! Bob, I was going to give Miranda a lift to school. Why don't you come with us?'

Bob agreed. Miranda glared at him. The Doctor opened up the gates and let him in.

The Doctor's car looked like the poor cousin of a Lada, Bob thought.

'You get in the front, Bob,' the Doctor suggested.

Miranda took her place in the back. Bob wriggled to get comfortable in the pa.s.senger seat, but he could sense the hostility boring into the back of his head.

The Doctor seemed totally oblivious to it.

Bob had hoped that he could talk Miranda round. Five minutes after Miranda had stormed out of the house, it had occurred to Dinah why she'd been sneaking around in the first place. Dinah and Bob had felt very guilty they'd even cried as they realised what they'd done. They'd got up, talked, and Dinah who knew Miranda better than anyone had convinced him that he could make amends. Bob had gone back to bed, alone, kicking himself. Dinah was a friend, a comfort. Miranda... Miranda was perfect. If he'd gone to Miranda, not Dinah. If he'd just stayed in his own d.a.m.n bed, then...

'What do you see yourself doing, Bob?' the Doctor asked brightly.

Bob gulped, then realised he was talking about his life.

'I'm only sixteen, I've not really decided.'

'Quite right,' the Doctor said. 'I'm over a hundred years old, and I've got no idea yet, either.'

'He's not really over a hundred years old,' Miranda said quickly. 'He's '

'Thirty-six,' the Doctor said.

'Forty-one,' Miranda finished.

Bob forced himself to laugh. 'Nice one.'

'Miranda hasn't had a boyfriend before,' the Doctor declared. Bob could feel her skin burn red. 'How many girlfriends have you had?'

'A few,' Bob admitted. 'Two,' he conceded, finally.

The Doctor looked over at him.

'Two isn't that many,' Bob said awkwardly. It was an embarra.s.singly low total, he'd always thought. 'And we only kissed, yeah?' Not strictly true, but near enough.

'He stays in touch with them, don't you, Bob?' Miranda said, with a voice that would freeze nitrogen.

'That's good,' said the Doctor.

They had, mercifully, arrived at the school.

The Doctor parked just outside the gate, blocking it. 'Here we are,' he said joyfully. 'Enjoy yourself at school. But not too much!'

Miranda was already out of the car.

Bob was about to skulk away.

'No, stay there Bob,' she said sweetly.

He rooted himself to the spot. This was his chance to set things straight.

The Trabant whizzed away, the Doctor waving as he went.

Once the car had turned the corner, Bob leapt into action. 'I'm so sorry,' he said.

Miranda crossed her arms.

Bob was very conscious that he was getting an audience: a group of giggling third-years, a couple of wryly amused sixth-formers.

'I... I made a mistake. I really like you, and I was drunk, and just give me another chance, and I know I don't deserve it.'

Miranda smiled.

Then she swung around, putting her whole weight behind a punch to his face.

At an earlier age, Bob would probably have imagined a large 'Ka-pow!' over his head. Now it was a pale-blue caption, describing how he felt one knuckle crunch into his nose, then the others rolling into it. He' heard something crack between his eyes, and felt a rush of warm liquid.

The shock alone would have been enough to bowl him off his feet, but the force of the impact did it anyway. Bob's hands were too busy instinctively grabbing up at his nose to cus.h.i.+on his fall. So hitting the tarmac drive hurt far more than it should have done.

He looked up at Miranda, certain that she'd broken his nose. She was looking down at him, and her expression made it very clear that if he tried to stand up again she'd put him back on the floor, and this time he wouldn't be getting up.

In later years, when Bob came to recall the moment, he would tell people that he'd put a brave face on it, even managed to get a great quip in. 'I said, "I'll take that as a no",' he would claim, and his mates would laugh, and he'd feel the pang of regret that would never quite go away.

The dozen or so people who were there heard only a slight yelp.

Sallak stepped from the train, looking exhausted.

Ferran was waiting for him in the car park. The Deputy had barely escaped the Tower, and everything there was lost. A dozen men, a lot of equipment that could have been useful.

Sallak was limping a little, he looked almost sh.e.l.l-shocked.

Ferran's bracelet had enough charge left for one recall signal. The only other object from his own time he had now was his brother's knife. Those were not his only resources, of course he had the car he'd bought, clothes, a bag of money, some tools and a handgun.

But he'd run out of luxuries, now the death of the Last One was a necessity, the only thing that could save this mission from the Ignominy of total defeat.

The Deputy got into the car.

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