Chapter One

The Doctor pulled himself over to the door, holding out a hand. 'His name is Caldwell.'

The policeman shook his hand, but was looking past him. Not at Caldwell, but at the plastic case that contained the test tubes.

'If you could get clear, sir, we'll see to him now.'

'He's got a broken leg and he's in shock. He's almost certainly got concussion, too. Try not to move his neck.'

'No need to worry, sir, I'm fully-trained.'

He helped the Doctor back down to the ground. Bernice was standing half a dozen yards away by the police Range Rover, her arms folded over her chest. The Doctor crossed over to her. Most of the smoke from the crash had dispersed now.

There were only two policemen. The gruff-voiced one beckoned over his colleague to give him a leg-up into the helicopter.

'Stay here,' the other officer said, flicking his half-finished cigarette to the ground, 'we'll need to talk to you.'

'Well, he could have said please,' the Doctor remarked, grinding out the cigarette butt with the heel of his shoe. It wouldn't do to start a forest fire. He turned to Bernice and smiled. She smiled back, weakly. She looked different to the way he remembered her. It wasn't the face: the high cheekbones and wide mouth were just the same. Her eyes were still blue, her hair was still black, cut in a close crop.

The Doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'Have you shrunk? You don't seem as tall as I remember.'

'You grew,' she replied impatiently.

The Doctor considered the answer for a couple of seconds. 'That would certainly explain the discrepancy,' he decided.

She handed him back the sonic screwdriver. 'Can we go now?'

He pointed over the helicopter. The first policeman had disappeared into the cabin, the other was talking to his colleague, with his back to them. 'That gentlemen asked us to stay.'

'Before you came over he was threatening me with the Official Secrets Act. Do you fancy trying to answer a set of awkward questions? "Who are you?", "Where did you come from?", that sort of thing.'