WHERE ADVENTURES ARE DREAMED…

At last, time had been called. She could breathe a sigh of relief at another job well done. She was happy enough with the result, but of late she had become restless. They were a great bunch of people to work with, but she had felt out of sorts for a while now - she hadn't told anyone, mainly because she couldn't work out the reason for it. And if she couldn't find the words to explain it, she could hardly expect the others to understand.

So here she was, sitting on her own in a solitary room nursing a mug of tea, away from all the madness and distractions. Maybe here she could work it out of her system. Whatever it was.

A sound she recognised filtered through her reverie. At first she thought it was coming from the sound booth, but it was too loud and clear for that. The noise grew as if it was all around her. As the volume increased, a familiar shape began to appear in the corner of the room before her eyes. "Oh no," she gasped. "It can't be." As it finally solidified, in front of her now stood a London Police Box.

She rose from her chair, slowly backing away. This couldn't be happening, she told herself. It just could not be real. She almost jumped out of her skin when the door opened and a figure emerged. "Hello. You must be…"

"No." She shook her head, unbelieving. "No, it can't be you." She looked from the stranger to a wall of photos, comparing this man's face to that of someone she already knew.

He followed her gaze, his eyes alighting on the same picture. "Hmm. I can see the resemblance. A bit older, and perhaps not as slim as my good self, but…"

"This is absurd." She was shaking now. "You can't be here!"

His intended reply was forgotten as he realised how distressed she was, and quickly led her back to her chair. "Now sit down," he said gently, pressing her mug of tea into her hands. "I know this has probably come as a bit of a shock, but…"

"That's putting it mildly." She was seated now, and the colour was gradually returning to her face. She studied him intently. The resemblance was unmistakeable, and he was there, crouched down beside her. The same light brown mop of curly hair, the same patchwork frock coat. "It's impossible, but… you really do exist."

He smiled. "I'm here, therefore I am."

She looked at him oddly. "That's the worst line of dialogue I've ever heard."

"At least it's original." He laughed, and she sat back in the chair, laughing with him. The first time she had really laughed for a long time.

"So why are you here?" she finally asked.

"Why, to see you, of course." He found another chair and positioned it so that it was facing her. He sat down. "From what I've heard, you've not been feeling your best."

"How did…?" She let that question drop, and asked another. "So you're here to cheer me up, is that it?"

"Something like that." He looked around the room. "So this is where it all happens, is it?"

"Sorry?" Then she realised. "Oh, yes. This is the place where adventures are dreamed up."

"It's a bit on the small side."

"'Compact and bijou' is the phrase, I think." She smiled again. "Still, it's the quality that counts, don't you think?"

"Oh absolutely," he agreed. He turned back to her, concern on his face. "You are happy here, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," she quickly replied. "I do enjoy my work, don't misunderstand me. It's just that we've been working pretty hard lately, and I suppose I'm just a bit tired. I'm not as young as I was, you know."

"Nonsense," he chided. "You're much younger than me, at any rate."

She gave a mock bow. "Thank you for the compliment, kind sir." It was strange, being in his company. He looked exactly the same as the pictures she'd seen in the Magazine. And here he was, in the flesh. And she felt comfortable in his presence, despite the sheer absurdity of the situation. She smiled. "I must say, I do feel better - more relaxed."

"All in a day's work," he said. "And it makes a change from battling monsters and meglomaniacs."

"I suppose it must." She glanced across at the Police Box. "I did wonder if you were going to invite me to join you?"

He seemed surprised at the idea. "That was the furthest thought from my mind," he assured her. "Besides, your life is here. And from what I've heard it's a very full one."

Reluctantly, he rose from his chair. "Time for me to leave, I'm afraid." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Strictly speaking, I shouldn't really be here at all."

She stood, and joined him at the Police Box. "Something to do with breaking Laws of Time and such like?"

He grinned. "Couldn't have put it better myself." He reached for her hand and kissed it. "Take care of yourself, won't you?"

She nodded. "And the same to you."

He stepped inside the Police Box, and with a final wave of farewell, closed the door.

She watched as it began to fade from sight, and could swear she heard his voice in the air. "Evelyn. I've told you before, put that down." Then the Police Box was gone, with only a slight indentation in the floor carpet that it had been there at all.

Her visitor had left her feeling decidedly chirpy, her sombre mood gone. Now she felt invigorated and ready for the next studio session. There was a knock at the door. "Maggie? Are you all right?"

Even the voice was the same, she noted. "Yes, I'm fine, Colin," she called. "I'll be along shortly." Maggie downed the remains of her tea, picked up her script and prepared to make her way back to the studio, pausing only to reflect on the similarities within the different worlds of Fact and Fiction.

"Evelyn, eh?" She laughed. "Who would have thought it?"