Winner Takes All (23 page)

And the Doctor won't ask you. And you can't ask him, because you couldn't bear it if he said no. You'd be so mortified, and ‘mortified' does actually really mean ‘killed' and you would have to kill yourself. And there's only the two of you, you and your mum. And you couldn't really leave her on her own. Not really.

Now the four of them were on their way back to Earth. Rose, the wonderful girl, seemed a bit quiet. He'd imagined her more happy, more bouncy. But then maybe she was, normally. Holding his breath, not quite believing what he was doing, he went over to her.

‘Hello,' he said. ‘I'm Robert.' Stupid, stupid! She knew that already!

‘Hello, Robert,' she said, smiling and making his heart jump up and down like a yo-yo.

‘Are you . . . are you all right?' he asked her.

She waved a hand. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. The Doctor's got rid of all that stuff from inside me, all the bits that went inside my nerves.'

There was silence. Robert desperately tried to think of something to say, something witty and charming, something to show that he was perfectly at home in her company and perhaps they could be friends . . .

He still hadn't thought of anything when Rose spoke again. ‘Well, maybe I'm not fine. You – you had one of those things stuck on your head, didn't you?'

Robert told her that yes, he had. But not one that had been activated. Not one that had made him do things.

‘It was horrible,' she said. ‘Not being in control. Makes you think, though. Makes you wonder if you're going through life like that, anyway.'

Robert gaped. ‘But you're going round the universe saving it!'

She shrugged. ‘Yeah, right. But I'm only Robin. And I don't mean I have a thing for tights and underwear on the outside.'

Robert tried not to think of Rose's underwear. But he remembered what the Doctor had said when he'd suggested the same thing.

‘Actually, I'm not even Robin,' said Rose. ‘I'm more Lois Lane. He –' she nodded at the Doctor, who was busy at the console – ‘gets to be the superhero. I get to be rescued.'

‘That's what you think?' asked Robert.

‘It's what I know,' she replied.

Robert grinned. ‘Funny that he doesn't know it,' he said.

Rose's mouth fell open. ‘He's been talking about me?'

‘Might've,' said Robert, hardly daring to believe he was actually teasing the wonderful girl. ‘Might've said a thing or two.' And still scarcely crediting his own courage in the face of extreme gorgeousness, he just laughed and refused to say any more.

They landed back on the Powell Estate, opposite the Chinese and the youth club, and Rose wasn't a bit surprised. The place was deserted, though – the latest of late-nighters had gone to bed, and the early birds weren't up yet. It was that depressing time in the early morning where the only people about were milkmen, police officers – and time travellers.

She explained to Daisy and Robert where they were. ‘There won't be buses for an hour or two, I don't reckon,' she said. But Daisy said that was fine; they'd find a night bus, or they'd walk, or get a taxi, or something. Robert seemed to be about to protest, didn't want to go, but Daisy stood firm, and only a minute or two after the TARDIS had landed, the two of them were walking away together, Robert shrugging off Daisy's protective arm. Rose had suppressed a laugh, reflecting on how intensely irritating she had found her own mum only a few years ago. Well, and many days since, but in a different way. The lad had kept glancing back at her, and she knew why, so she smiled and waved goodbye.

They walked away together, the boy and his mum. Rose seemed sorry to see them go, so Robert kept throwing back looks, trying to reassure her.

And he knew that he was.

He turned to his mum and said, gruffly, stumbling a bit over the words, ‘I'm glad you're OK. I'm glad they didn't hurt you.'

And she gave him a look full of sunshine, lighting up the world.

Then together, happy, they went home.

Rose stopped waving as Robert and Daisy turned the corner and disappeared from sight. She looked at the Doctor and sighed. ‘Suppose we'd better hang around till the morning then. Go and see everyone. Thank Mickey for saving the day, and all that. Make sure he's given Mrs Burton her shopping basket back. Stuff like that.'

The Doctor looked horror-stricken. ‘Tell Mickey the idiot that he saved the day? What d'you wanna do that for?'

‘You said he did! You told me all about it!'

He shook his head. ‘No I didn't. Didn't say anything of the kind. I said he'd been of some slight use, and at least he didn't muck everything up like normal.'

‘You could tell him that then,' she said. ‘It's high praise, coming from you.'

But he looked quite alarmed.

‘And then there's my mum,' she said. ‘I need to call the hospital, find out how she is.'

She glanced at Bucknall House, up high at her flat.

There was a light on in the window.

‘Mum said that Darren Pye nicked her keys!' she said. ‘We've got burglars!' And she raced off.

Rose let herself into the flat as quietly as she could. The Doctor was following on behind. Burglars didn't stand a chance against them.

Light was coming from under the door to her right. Her mum's room. She pushed the door open, ready to shout or fight or scream.

But inside there was just her mum, asleep. The bruises on her face shone brightly coloured in the illumination from the lamp, and Rose's heart twisted.

She put up a hand to stop the Doctor coming any further, and padded softly over to the bed. But she must have made some noise, because Jackie's eyes flickered open. There was alarm in them for a moment, then relief and happiness as she recognised Rose.

‘Hello, darling,' she whispered.

‘Hello, Mum,' said Rose. ‘They let you out then?' She hadn't thought they would, not yet. Her mum had looked so awful. But the sense of relief, knowing it hadn't been as bad as all that – it was overwhelming.

Jackie smiled sleepily. ‘Mm. Said I'll be fine. Just take it easy.' She yawned.

‘Go back to sleep,' Rose said.

‘Will you still be here in the morning?'

Rose leaned over and kissed her mum gently on the forehead. ‘Dunno,' she said. ‘But I'll see you soon, whatever.'

Then, as Jackie's eyes closed again, Rose crept out of the room.

The Doctor was making a cup of tea in the kitchen.

‘Mum's asleep,' Rose said, yawning herself. ‘Not a bad idea, I reckon. I've got my room and you can have the sofa.'

The Doctor helped himself to a biscuit. ‘Yeah, then maybe tomorrow we could go and feed the ducks in the park, or p'raps there'll be a good film on telly.'

She gave him a hard stare. ‘So, you're telling me you don't want to hang around.'

‘'S boring,' he said. ‘Who wants to do ordinary things like sleep, when there's a universe to explore? What would you rather do, catch forty winks, or nip off to have a look at the moons of Jupiter?'

‘I don't know,' she said, teasing. ‘Isn't it quite cold up there?'

‘Somewhere warm, then!' he said. ‘We could watch the building of the Great Pyramid, or investigate this rumour I heard about this mad scientist who tried to build asbestos robots to colonise the sun.'

And all of Rose's tiredness fell away as he spoke. She looked out of the window as the sun rose upon another grey London day, and thought about the alternatives the Doctor was offering. And she realised that while she might truly be the mistress of her own destiny, sometimes there really wasn't much of a choice.

‘Yeah, all right,' she said.

So, arm in arm, they left the flat, and walked towards the future.

Huge amounts of thanks go to the lovely Russell T Davies and Helen Raynor for being so helpful, generous, insightful, and just plain fantastic. Oh, and for bringing back
Doctor Who
so gloriously!

Justin Richards and Steve Cole, fellow authors and much-loved friends, have been brilliant, as always.

Nothing would have been possible without the support of my family, especially Nick, Mum, Dad and Helen.

Thanks also to David Bailey for invaluable technical assistance and boundless enthusiasm.

Jacqueline Rayner is an author and editor who spent nearly seven years working on the BBC's range of Eighth Doctor novels, but – although sad to see him go – was fickle enough to come to utterly adore his successor almost immediately.

She lives in Essex with two cats, and a husband who is currently nearing the final level of
Ratchet and Clank 3.
If either Ratchet or Clank is real and is reading this, please get in touch.