November 1963
Susan gasped. "The Hand of Omega!"
The Doctor nodded gravely. "I thought you would recognise it."
"We studied ancient history at the Academy, but I always assumed that it was mostly legend. I never dreamt I would ever see a piece of it for real."
The Doctor sighed. "But what do we do with it? We need it off the Ship, or they will always be able to track us down."
Susan was shocked. "We're not leaving yet, are we?" she asked worriedly.
He shook his head. "There is still much to do. The drive systems need a major overhaul, for one thing. However, I would like to remove this as soon as possible."
Quietly, he closed the door, leaving the semi-sentient device in the dark.
***
Ian frowned at the exercise book in front of him. While the detail of the answer and its accuracy were without fault, something wasn't quite right. Something nagged at him and wouldn't go away.
He looked again at the front cover. There, in the same neat handwriting as the inside of the book, was the pupil's name. Susan Foreman.
Turning back to the homework he was marking, he realised what was bothering him. While Susan had answered all the questions correctly, it was the way she had answered them. The passion of her earlier work was missing. It was correct, but there wasn't any feeling in her work.
He had noticed that she seemed distracted in class these last few weeks. He had been watching out for anything unusual since his chat with Joe Moore in the staff room.
Ian wondered idly if any other teachers were having problems with Susan as he returned to marking 5C's homework.
***
The Doctor met John in the doorway. John ran the cafe when Harry wasn't around, usually during the evenings. It was unusual to see him this early.
"Hello, Doctor Foreman," John greeted him. "How are you this chilly afternoon?"
"Fine, thank you," the Doctor replied. "Has Harry been giving you extra shifts?"
The dark man smiled. "We swapped duties today. Harry's wife wasn't well this morning. She's better now though."
The Doctor smiled slightly. Harry's wife was pregnant and Harry, the cafe owner, was excited at the prospect of fatherhood.
They said their goodbyes and the Doctor entered the cafe. He walked over to the counter and sat down. From the back of the cafe, a middle-aged man with a moustache emerged.
"Hello, Doctor," said Harry, smiling. "Chilly day for it."
"It certainly is," the Doctor agreed.
Harry began pouring the Doctor a cup of tea. He knew the requirements of all his regular customers.
"You seem worried, Doctor," Harry remarked as he added milk to the tea. "Not a problem with Susan, I hope."
The Doctor shook his head. "Susan is fine. No, another problem has arisen. It seems my past is catching up with me."
"You need to talk it over with someone," Harry said wisely. "The worst thing you can do is bury your problems."
The Doctor considered his words as he watched his tea cool. "Bury," he repeated. A smile flickered across his face. "Thank you, Harry. I think you just solved my problem."
***
The sign above the door read "S. Lake and Sons. Funeral Directors. Established 1869." The Doctor nodded to himself and pushed open the door.
It had been a simple matter to phone the solicitors and discover who had handled the burial of Isaac Foreman. The Doctor liked continuity.
"Can I help you, sir?" asked the man behind the desk.
"Ah, yes. I'm arranging a funeral for a, er, friend and was hoping you might be able to help me."
"Certainly, sir. We have a full range of caskets available. Would you like to see some of them?"
"Oh, I already have a casket," the Doctor replied. "I was hoping you had storage facilities until the funeral."
The man's face dropped slightly. Caskets were the main earners in their business. But it couldn't be helped. He forced a smile.
"We do have a storage area at the rear of the premises."
"Then I shall arrange for the casket to be delivered," the Doctor said. He raised his fur hat to the man. "Good day."
***
Karen and Mary were smoking behind the school bike sheds. Mary was full of her latest news.
"I'm going to the pictures on Saturday night. With Charlie!"
"Charlie Hughes?" Karen retorted. "I thought you could do better than that!"
Mary deflated in the face of her friends scorn. "Well, he did ask me."
Karen grinned. "I'm going to the Inferno club with Andrew Burns."
Mary was shocked. "But he's nineteen!"
Karen's grin broadened. "I know!"
They put out their cigarettes and left their hiding place. The first person they saw was Susan Foreman, watching the younger kids play.
"What do you think of her?" Karen asked.
Mary hated Karen asking her opinion. She much preferred to take the lead from her friend on everything. But on this occasion she was sure she was on safe ground.
"She's weird," Mary said. "Thought she was alright at first, but she's become odd."
Karen nodded, which made Mary feel good. "Yeah, she's strange alright. A right swot in most subjects." Am evil smile crossed Karen's face. "But she also annoys the hell out of most teachers too. I know Mister Moore doesn't like her."
Mary grinned. "Neither does Ma Redman. I heard her and Moorey talking in the corridor yesterday."
The two girls giggled and continued their gossip, while the target of it remained blissfully unaware.
***
The Doctor noticed that the Reverend Parkinson was blind as soon as they met. It was an unexpected bonus.
"I can't book you in until the first week in December. How does the 4th sound?"
"Excellent," the Doctor replied. "It will give me time to sort out a few things first. The, er, body is in storage at the moment."
"I'm sorry it's not sooner," Parkinson said, reaching unerringly for his cup of tea. "Our gravedigger is ill and we're having to share with another parish at the moment."
"I quite understand," the Doctor said. "Early next month will be fine."
The two men finished their tea, their conversation turning to the weather.
***
P.C. John Page wandered his dark and lonely beat, supposedly on the alert for any criminal activity. In reality, he was bored.
It was a dull night shift routine. Pound his beat, check business premises were secure. No activity. No challenge.
This was a good example, he thought. Foreman's junkyard. He shone his torch and tried the gate. Locked. Secure. Boring.
Sighing, P.C. Page went on his way.
***
"Yes, I got the address from the school secretary," Barbara said into the telephone. "But when I got there it was just a junkyard."
She paused while she listened to her Cousin's comment on the other end of the line.
"I thought it was strange too. I checked again with Margaret the following day, but it was the address Susan gave. Yes, I considered she might have lied, but I don't know why she would."
Again she paused while Linda gave her opinion.
"Well, I know Joe Moore has had problems with her. He's the Geography teacher. I'm thinking of talking to Ian Chesterton, get his opinion. Yes, he's the one I told you about."
Linda laughed at her end of the line. Barbara blushed.
"No, I told you then and I'm telling you now, I do not fancy him! He's just a friend, that's all it is."
Quickly, Barbara changed the subject. "How's Aunt Kath?"
***
The Doctor ordered a simple headstone from Mister Fisk, the stonemason. Just the Greek letter Omega. Simple but effective, he thought. Easy to find if he ever needed it again.
He set off back towards Totters Lane, satisfied that everything was going according to plan.
**
Susan carefully closed the gate behind her. She walked confidently over to the TARDIS, despite the fact that it was pitch dark in the junkyard. As well as having better vision than the average human, she had made the short journey enough times to know where everything was.
She entered the console room to find the Hand of Omega beside the doors, humming quietly to itself. Although she knew it was a machine, it was still semi-sentient. It gave her the creeps.
The Doctor walked through from the interior of the Ship, consulting his pocket watch. He looked up at her and smiled.
"Ah, there you are, Susan. Did you enjoy your day at school?"
"Yes, thank you, Grandfather," she lied. In truth, she had upset Mister Moore again this morning. She wasn't sure why, but she knew he didn't like her. Then, at lunchtime, Karen and Mary had gone out of their way to avoid her. She knew it shouldn't upset her, but it did.
Then, to finish the day in style, there had been her encounter with Miss Wright...
***
The bell rang and class 5C started to make their noisy way out of the history classroom. As Susan gathered her books, Miss Wright stopped her.
"Susan, could I have a word with you, please?"
Now what, thought Susan. She knew she had upset Miss Wright on a couple of occasions. Indeed, on her first morning, she had accidentally knocked the teacher over. But Miss Wright didn't bear a grudge, unlike Mister Moore.
As Susan approached the desk, Miss Wright smiled at her. "That was a very good essay you wrote on Henry the Eighth, Susan," she said.
Susan grinned. There were times when first hand experience of human history paid off.
"I was wondering if you had considered specialising," Miss Wright continued. "I know you're interested in the French Revolution."
"I'd like that very much, Miss," Susan replied. The Revolution was one of Grandfather's favourite periods and hers too.
"Good. It will mean a lot of extra work, though. I'd be willing to work with you at your home, outside school hours."
Susan could feel her face flushing. "I'm sorry, that wouldn't be possible. My Grandfather doesn't like strangers."
"But, Susan..."
"I'm sorry," Susan said again, backing towards the door. "I really must go, I'll be late for my next lesson."
She ran from the classroom, leaving a troubled teacher in her wake.
***
Susan's reverie was broken when she realised her Grandfather had spoken to her.
"I'm sorry, I was miles away," she admitted.
"I said I have found a temporary home for that," the Doctor repeated, pointing to the Hand of Omega.
"Good," Susan replied. The sooner it was out of the Ship, the better she would like it.
"That nice Mister Steptoe I met when we first arrived is sending his son round in the morning with a horse and cart. Then we'll take it to the funeral home."
Susan looked at the casket, still humming away by the doors. Hard to think it contained a device powerful enough to explode a star, collect the resulting singularity then escape the gravity well of a black hole. And it still gave her the creeps.
***
Barbara was sitting at home, drinking coffee in her favourite armchair and reflecting on her encounter with Susan.
The girl had been enthusiastic about her idea, until she mentioned home. After her failure in Totters Lane, Barbara was keen to discover the truth about her strange pupil's domestic arrangements.
She had thought of asking Joe Moore's opinion, but she didn't really like the man. There was nothing she could put her finger on, but she didn't trust him.
Ian Chesterton, however, she did trust. The softly spoken Science teacher was kind and witty, and occasionally gave her a lift home in his car. Despite what Linda said, though, she didn't fancy him.
He was just a friend and colleague, that was all. Someone whose judgement she trusted.
Barbara smiled to herself. Her mind was made up. She would talk over her problem pupil with Ian after school tomorrow.
***
Ian was surprised to find the postcard on his doormat. He was even more surprised that it was from Carol.
He hadn't thought about her for over a month now, he reflected as he read the postcard. She was enjoying her work, which was tiring, but rewarding.
As Ian moved on to the bills that had arrived at the same time, he realised with a smile that he was finally over Carol.
***
The Doctor thanked Harold, Mister Steptoe's son, and gave him a five-pound note for his trouble. This brought a smile to the younger man's face. He hadn't been happy, transporting a coffin across London, but the money seemed to make up for it. He wished the Doctor good day and set off on his rounds.
Taking a deep lungful of crisp November air, the Doctor smiled. His next job was to pay the stonemason and arrange for the headstone to be placed at the head of the grave by December 3rd. Then to Harry's cafe in time for his early evening cup of tea.
Unknown to the Doctor, events were being set in motion that would cause himself and Susan a hasty exit from Earth, with passengers.
***
Barbara wasn't sure why, but the day seemed to drag. Maybe it was because she had made up her mind to talk to Ian. Or maybe it was because she was teaching Susan's class, 5C, last today.
When the final bell rang, she stopped Susan on her way out. "I have that book I promised to lend you, Susan. It's in the staff room, I'll just go and fetch it."
Susan smiled. "I'll wait here, Miss Wright," she promised, fishing in her bag for a transistor radio.
As Barbara returned from the staff room, book in hand, she paused outside Ian's classroom. Was she doing the right thing, involving him?
Sure that she was, she knocked and entered.
***
Susan enjoyed walking home in the dark. The shadows held mystery and potential excitement.
She found sometimes that she missed her travelling with Grandfather. They had visited many strange and exotic worlds. They had also visited a few periods in the history of Earth, though the book she clutched to her chest wasn't one of them. The revolutionary period of France. Though she did know enough about it to know that parts of the book were quite inaccurate.
Susan smiled as she entered Totters Lane. Soon be home, she thought.
***
As Ian's car pulled into Totters Lane, following Susan, the same thought as earlier flashed through Barbara's mind. Were they doing the right thing?
***
The Doctor had finished his business earlier than he expected, so had also left Harry's earlier too. He chuckled to himself. He would be home shortly after Susan. She would be surprised.
As he turned into Totters Lane, he saw a car parked opposite the junkyard. It wasn't one he recognised. But then, someone could be having visitors. That was something he and Susan never had.
Smiling at his own joke, he pushed open the gate.
***
P.C. Page turned into Totters Lane to hear an awful racket. There was a flashing light visible over the junkyard wall.
He hurried over and pushed the gate. It started to swing open. As it did so, the noise and light faded away.
"Who's there?" he called, swinging his torch about. Nobody answered. There seemed to be nothing capable of making such a noise.
All he did find in his search of the yard was a torch, its beam shining weakly. Scratching his head, he pulled the gate closed behind him.
