Gentle hands guided her to a seat beside the garden. It was just about her favorite spot at the home, and she always went there when she was feeling out of sorts. A very faded, red and black check shirt graced her upper half, loose fitting pants and soft sandals her lower. Her formerly flame red now gone gray hair was in a bun, and her wrinkled hands fussed with a locket.
She was alone in the world now. Her husband had passed on after many scares some time before, and her childhood friend had disappeared decades before, none knew where. She felt a kind of coldness working its way up her body as she sat there and vaguely wondered if she should have put on a shawl. It also seemed to be rather hard to get a deep breath. Damned allergies, she thought.
But her musings were interrupted by a voice she'd almost forgotten but never could. "Cone along, Pond. It's time to go, now." She stood, and found she felt much better already. That constant ache was gone from her back and her wrinkles had all gone, too. She even saw her husband standing in the door of the blessedly familiar blue box and was lost in wonder as she stepped inside to start travelling again. Oh, this was wonderful.
When the attendants found the body of Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams on the bench, she still had an odd smile and the curious little locket had opened, revealing a picture of herself, Rory and some skinny chap in tweed. Mrs. Williams in 7C was gone, but she'd gone happy it seemed.