Tom pushed away his dish and puffed out his cheeks. He was absolutely stuffed. Beside him Iris lolled on a floor cushion and dug him in the ribs.
"Didn't I tell you this place was great? Didn't I? Didn't I? Beats a silly old sausage sandwich any old day of the week!"
"Iris, you don't mean to say you haven't kicked that meat-eating lark?"
Iris stifled a distinctly unlady-like sound threatening to emerge from her lips and rolled over to face the speaker.
"Linda, pet, I've tried, believe me I've tried! But I only have to catch a waft of sizzling bacon on the breeze, the smoky tang of frying sausages-"
"Very smoky, the way you do 'em," muttered Tom, earning himself a more painful dig in the ribs.
"Paul and I have been vegetarians for years, haven't we?"
"Yup," said the man beside her, applying the finishing touches to a roll-up of dubious nature.
"Ah yes, but you get more practice and less choice, whereas I have to sample the cuisine's of millions of planets across time and space! And with some of them, it's illegal to be vegetarian!" Iris reached down for her drink, and managed to grasp it at the second attempt.
The man nodded slowly, lighting up and taking a lungful. "True. It must be hell, out there."
"You don't know the half of it!" She waved her drink around dramatically and sloshed most of it down her front. "Pook! Raju, time for another round!"
Tom groaned. "Oh no, Iris, that's your fifth, and in double-quick time!" He picked up a plate. "Have a chapati, instead."
"No, I want another drink! Who else is with me?" Everyone else around the table cheered. Iris looked at Tom victoriously through glazed eyes. He sighed wearily with the knowledge that he'd have to carry her back to the TARDIS - again.
"It's lovely bumping into you and Linda and the band again, Paul. Stroke of luck you being in the area! Say, did I tell you how much I enjoyed Mull of Kintyre…"
Tom shook his head. They'd never believe this back home. Here he was, in a tiny Tandoori restaurant in the middle of the Khyber Pass, eating Indian food and drinking copious quantities of frozen vodka with one of the most famous groups of the seventies. Even his mum had one of their records in her collection.
Chapati with Wings. And five rounds rapid. What a night.
He reached down, picked up a chapati, and took a big bite, just as Iris decided to stand up and slur her way through a version of Jet.
Complete with sound effects.
More from Iris in: One of Those Days
