Mrs Williams lay on the royal blue sofa in her living room. The book she had been reading before she drifted off lay open but faced down on the cushion next to her . In her head however a much more exciting plot line than the one in her novel was playing out - but this wasn't fiction , it was fact. Etched in her memory like cave drawings carved in stone: artistic and magical yet strong and in-erasable . The only external signs of these adventures were a few faint scars including a cut on her leg gained climbing out of the crashed Byzantium or a tiny freckle on the palm of her right hand where a nano-recorder bound with the cartilage in her hand had been forcefully removed . The only other calling card left by her many adventures was a content smile that played across her lips as she slept and dreamt.
"Amy ?" A voice cut through her dreams of star-ships, space-stations , Silurians and Silents to registered with her . She woke with a start , her hazel eyes jerked open and and then she blinked quickly as she adjusted to the bright beams of sunlight that were streaming through her living room window . "yes Rory ?" she replied sleepily as she rose up off the sofa, smoothed down her long copper-coloured hair until it hung round her shoulders in her trademark style and made her way outside into the garden to see what he wanted.
Her husband Rory sat in an old garden chair in the middle of the lawn which he had spent all day meticulously mowing and clipping into perfection. His jeans and checked shirt were grass stained as a sign of his hard day's labour and his frayed gardening gloves were strewn on the neat grass near his feet. It wasn't Rory who drew Amy's attention though , for next to him sat a woman who Amy knew well , her strawberry blonde curls surrounded her head like a halo as she laughed with Rory and sipped from the glass of white wine in her hand. Her black leather coat hung over her chair – unneeded and redundant on this glorious summer day. Next to it was slung a slightly worn tweed jacket with leather elbow patches . Looking up Amy was delighted to see the jacket's owner smiling benignly , his hand on his wife's shoulder as she gazed upwards into his wise but seemingly young face.