It was dark and cold and the ground was damp. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, but the bird was scared away with the sound of something...unearthly.
Slowly, on the pathway that ran between two plots of graves, a blue box materialised with a wheezing, groaning and grating sound - the very fabric of space and time being ripped open to allow the box to appear.
This was the time and space machine known as the TARDIS. The wonderful, magical box that belonged to the traveller known only as the Doctor.
The door clicked open and a small, round face peered curiously from the doors. It was a young woman. She was wearing a white dress that had obviously been modified for travelling to other worlds, judging by the length of it and the trouser-like clothing underneath. She had long, dark hair and her eyes were trying to soak in as much information as possible.
Her look of wonderment then turned to a frown.
“Hmmm,” she said with disapproval.
“What is it, Mary? Anything good?” came a male voice from inside the box.
“Come and see for yourself,” said the young woman - Mary.
Mary stepped out of the box and made a “errghh” sound as she stepped onto the muddy grass beside the graves.
Another face appeared in the doorway of the TARDIS. He was much taller than her, had short, grey hair and a little stubble around his chin. He was wearing a grey tweed suit, green waistcoat, white shirt and a black tie. He looked just as out of place as the girl. But then again, were you ever really out of place in a cemetery?
His eyes darted around before they settled on Mary.
“Ah,” he said quietly.
“Doctor,” whined Mary.
“I’m sorry, Mary,” said the Doctor, stepping from the TARDIS and locking the door behind him.
“And why are you locking up?” said Mary, hands on her hips.
“Mary, I can’t leave the TARDIS open to everybody to clamber into.”
“What I mean is, why are you locking up if we’re not staying?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, stepping onto the grass and wandering to look at a few of the graves.
“Let me put it more simply for you, Doctor. You promised to take me to see some music concert by that Beatles band you keep going on about. You know, you said you were trying to get better control over the TARDIS again.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor, skipping back to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. He was grinning widely at her. “The Beatles, Mary. If your delicate 1940’s ears can manage such a modern sound, you’ll fall in love with them. You may even go for a Beatles haircut. 1964 - Beatlemania at its hype!”
“Less of the delicate,” she said with a smile.
“It’s been a while since I took a companion to see the Beatles. Ah, ‘Love Me Do’, ‘Here, There and Everywhere’, ‘Paperback Writer’, ‘You Know My Name, Look Up The Number’…”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Classics, Mary, all of them. Although I don’t think they ever did that last one live. Well, John performed it in the console room that time, but -”
“And anyway, what’s a Beatles haircut?” she said, interrupting him.
“A sort of…” He tried to motion a bowl-like shape above her head. He realised he was failing miserable given the confused look on Mary’s face. “Well, anyway, I used to have one a long time ago. And if you were around in 1940’s Whitechapel you may have spotted my friend, Gary, playing a few of there songs.”
Mary laughed. “I can’t ever imagine you looking any different than you do now.”
The Doctor smiled. “Believe it or not, I used to have long, white hair.”
“Hang on,” said Mary, frowning, “how did your friend sing songs in 1940’s Whitechapel if the songs were written in the 1960’s?”
The Doctor tapped the end of her nose and winked.
“But, Doctor,” said Mary, leaning against the blue box as if hinting for them to go back inside, “you seem to fail to grasp the reason why I’m a little cross with you right now.”
The Doctor’s face dropped. “Cross? Why’s that?”
“Because you are supposed to be taking me home. It’s quite clear that you’ve got a little better at control this machine now, yet you still don’t seem to be able to get me back home, let alone a Beatings concert.”
“Beatles,” corrected the Doctor. “And I can’t help it. The TARDIS obviously took us here for a reason.”
“So why don’t we just get back inside and get going?”
The Doctor looked shocked at Mary for even suggesting something so absurd. “Mary, there’s a mystery here! There’s obviously something that needs to be done. A person who needs to be saved.”
“Just for once, Doctor, I’d prefer not to face imminent danger. Have you forgotten that we’ve only recently escaped from that Rathtokian experiment area?”
“Where’s that stiff-upper lip spirit?” said the Doctor, as he slowly wandered off amongst the gravestones.
“Considering you got me up in the middle of the night to tell me you were taking me to see these Beatles, you surely can understand why I’m a little frustrated to be standing in a cold, old, misty cemetery right now.”
“It’s not old,” said the Doctor.
“What? Of course it is,” said Mary, glancing at the worn-down gravestones, some of them overgrown with weeds and bushes.
“It’s not. Take a closer look.”
Mary knelt down beside one the Doctor had been looking at. She peered carefully at the date. It was worn down, but she could just make it out. It said that the person had died on July 18th 2009. She frowned. Although it was in the future - relatively speaking - for her, the gravestone was old and worn.
“We must be in the far future,” said the Doctor, “for gravestones from the 21st century to have aged so much.”
“Doctor, as sad as it is, there are always going to be cemetery’s. So we’ve found one in the future. What does that matter?”
“Come on,” said the Doctor as he strode off towards the main path that ran through the cemetery.
“But why?” said Mary, exasperated.
“Pure curiosity,” said the Doctor. “I want to know the newest grave in this place. Then I can work out the rough date.”
The path seemed to climb a gently rising hill, passing between more and more rows of trees, which in turn surrounded bigger and grander gravestones.
Mary suddenly felt very scared. She knew it was an irrational fear, of course. It was dark and cold, but the sight of a stone angel looming over her seemed to unnerve her.
The Doctor must have noticed her unease because he quickly took her hand and squeezed it tight.
“It’s silly, isn’t it?” said Mary.
“What is?”
“To be scared of angels. I should feel protected by them.”
The Doctor gave her a sympathetic look. “Not all angels are friendly. Some are. Some aren’t. And I’ve always wanted to meet the Ash Angels from the Grey City. Lovely ladies apparently.”
Eventually the trees became less and less, until they were on top of the gentle hill. Newer gravestones dotted the land around, but Mary felt somehow more comfortable here. Well, as comfortable as you can be in a cemetery. It felt more open and she didn’t feel as claustrophobic.
The Doctor was already jogging along to the grave nearest to the entrance. Mary cursed the muddy ground and it was then that she noticed the cityscape.
“Doctor, look!”
The Doctor stopped his jog and turned to where Mary was pointing. In the not-too-faraway distance, the twinkling lights of a futuristic city glittered against the black backdrop of the night sky.
“That’s beautiful,” said Mary, looking on in awe.
“Definitely in the future,” said the Doctor. “In fact…” He pulled out a small telescope from within his jacket and looked into the distance. “That’s the Chen Tower,” he put his telescope away.”
“The what?”
“The Chen Tower. Named after Mavic Chen, the ex-Guardian of the Solar System. He colluded with the Daleks and almost brought the entire galaxy into turmoil.”
“What are the Daleks?” Mary was beginning to feel this was a bit of information overload. She was struggling to keep up.
“Nasty little war machines. Hopefully you’ll never meet them.” He pointed towards the huge, narrow monument in the distance. “The tower was built in his honour during his reign. Looks like they’re taking it down because of his…well, his dishonour.”
“So what year would we be in then?”
“Some time after the year 4000, I’d say,” said the Doctor, skipping over the most recent gravestones. And then something made him stop in his tracks. Something that, to Mary, made him look as though he’d had all of his enthusiasm sucked out of him. She’d not seen him quite like this before.
He stood staring at a simple, white-marble gravestone. It can’t have been much higher than two-foot.
“Doctor, are you okay?” she said, joining him by his side.
He remained still and silent.
She looked at the name on the grave. It read:
“Here lies Sara Kingdom. Born February 1st 3968. Died May 23rd 4000. Sister to Brett Vyon, daughter to Jean and Paul Kingdom.”
Mary read on:
“She was lost in space, mere dust to the wind, but she has come home now, so her next life can begin.”
“Did you know her?” asked Mary, glancing momentarily at the Doctor.
The Doctor nodded slowly. “Yes. I knew her.”
“Did she travel with you?”
The Doctor let out a big, long sigh. “For a little while. Only a little while. She died whilst travelling with me. The Daleks aged her to death. I watched her as she just crumbled…to dust. The Space Corps must have brought back her remains.”
Mary gulped and took the Doctor’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“She wasn’t the only person I lost back then. I never really got to know her. We were too busy running from the Daleks.” He shook his head. “Never enough time to just simply stop and rest. Stop and get to know people and have fun.”
She smiled sadly at him. “Is that why you’re keeping me around? To get to know me?”
“I don’t know, Mary.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years. I always try and convince them that life with me can be fun, but it’s also dangerous.”
“Well I’m still here, you know? I may be wanting to get back home, but I’m still here.”
He wasn’t really listening to her. He was lost in his memories. “Sometimes - not very often - but sometimes, somebody dies. Somebody like Sara. It was Sara and Katarina’s death’s that changed me. It made me realise that you couldn’t keep being reckless without there being consequences. It aged me, Mary. It broke my hearts.”
Mary squeezed his hand tighter. “Sara would want you to have fun, though.”
“Actually, she’d have probably pointed a gun at me and told me to get out of the way so she can blow up a few Daleks.” He allowed himself a slight chuckle. “And now we know why the TARDIS brought us - brought me - here.”
“To remind you?”
“To remind me of life. To remind me that, amongst all the running and dashing around, to take some time out occasionally. You never know what you might lose.”
“Sometimes I think that blue box takes you were you need to go rather than where you want to go.”
“She definitely has a way of hitting me where I need it the most, Miss Auckland.”
The Doctor kissed his fingers and then gently pressed them against the cold gravestone. He took another few moments to stand there in silence, and then turned to Mary.
“Fun,” he smiled.
“Fun,” she said, smiling back at him.
“Miss Auckland, will you Please Please Me?”
“I beg your pardon!” said Mary, a little taken aback.
The Doctor looked a little flustered. “I mean…it’s been A Hard Days Night.”
She frowned a little more.
“Would you like to go and watch the Beatles with me?” he said with a grin.
“I suppose getting back home can wait a little while longer,” she said. “Yes, Doctor, I’d be happy to.”
And they walked back to the TARDIS, arm in arm, whilst somewhere in another land, beyond life, Sara Kingdom battled with Daleks, Mechanoids, living her life after death…and loving every minute of it.
And back in July 1949 a man, who looked just like the Doctor, was being helped into the house belonging to Mrs Patricia Auckland.
And he looked up at the windows on the top floor of the house and watched as white curtains gently billowed in the summer breeze.
The End
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