So this is an amalgamation of the original chapters 2&3. Hopefully a lot better.
Disclaimer: Not Mine
We managed to make our way past Mum's without having to be surprised by her and a million questions, "Do you want a cup of tea?" I asked her and she nodded. I made my way into the kitchen, filling the kettle up with water and putting it onto boil, "If anyone asks," I called through into the living room where I could see her sitting on the sofa, "We left the shop at the usually time, we didn't see anything and we didn't hear anything," she didn't say anything and I brought the cup through once it had been made, "Rose?"
"Yeah," she shook her head, "Yeah that sounds about right. You heard what he said..." she took a sip of the tea, "If we tell anyone anything then they'll die. I don't know whether he was being serious or whether he was fooling around,"
"I don't know," I sat on the armchair, looking at her carefully, "He was holding a bomb, and the store did explode," I rubbed my eyes, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion passing over me, "And I don't think the plastic mannequins were people dressed up," I heard her sigh, and I opened my laptop, logging on the news. Word had spread around quickly; the explosion was already up on the news. It had only happened half an hour ago, "The news has already caught wind of it,"
"What do they say?" Rose inquired leaning back against the cushions.
I flicked through the short paragraph, "Says that there's been an explosion in Central London. The police are cordoning off the scene and the whole of Central London in under lockdown," I frowned when I read the next sentence, "They've found a body in the wreckage," I looked up over the screen, "I think that must be Wilson, there doesn't seem to be any other casualties, just mass panic," there was a knock on the door, "Three guesses who," I shut the lid of the laptop, before standing up and walking towards the door.
When I opened the door, Mum was already on the voice, gabbling down to the person on the other end of the line, "I know it's on the telly," she was saying. I had opened the door on her mid-conversation, "It's everywhere. They're lucky to be alive," I couldn't help but roll my eyes in frustration. Mum hadn't even seen us thirty seconds. Rose looked at me pointedly and I walked into the kitchen, still hearing her talk, "It's aged them, skin like an old Bible. You would think that I was their daughters," she placed the phone down; "You're alive!" she looked at Rose as if she was a miracle.
"Yeah," Rose smiled slightly, "We were out of the store before it blew up. We're not hurt or anything," the lie easily slipped out of her. Mum still hadn't seemed to have noticed that I was there. "Don't worry," Rose continued, "We're fine," she nodded before the phone rang and she picked it up, talking at a hundred miles an hour, "At least that isn't your phone bill that you have to pay for,"
"I'm aware of that," there was another knock on the door and I went over to open it, "Ricky!" I looked at my sister's boyfriend. Mickey Smith and I had never exactly gotten along smoothly. He deliberately irritated me and I was aware that I annoyed him. The main reason for this, I suppose, was that due to Rose and my father dying at a young age, there had to be someone who didn't like Rose's boyfriends. And I hated to admit this to anyone but I was slightly jealous of how much time she spent with him.
He now scowled at me "It's Mickey," he said irritably, moving past me and spotting Rose on the sofa, instantly playing the protective boyfriend, "I've been phoning your mobile. You could have been dead; it's on the news and everything. I can't believe the just went up," he hugged her tightly, and she laughed, looking slightly uncomfortable with the situation.
I sat down on the armchair again, opening up my computer, watching the news again, not really paying attention to the conversation that they were having together. It was really none of my business what they did, and to all intents and purposes, I didn't really want to know, "All right, all right," Rose had a smile in her voice as Mickey fawned over her, "I'm fine, don't worry about it,"
He sat next to her on the sofa, clearly wanting as much information as he could get, "But what happened?" he asked. I looked up sharply, my hands stilling on the computer keyboard, waiting for Rose's response. Lying to Mum was one thing, which was wanting to protect her as much as deterring many questions. But Mickey was Rose's boyfriend, they shared everything together. It was a different story when it came to lying to Mickey. And I waited to see what she would do.
My sister looked at me briefly, before saying "I don't know," I allowed a small smile to pass over my face. I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit pleased that she wasn't telling Mickey about what had happened. In a day, my life had turned from monotonous to something...new. I didn't know whether it had been a good or bad thing, but a tiny hope indicated that I wasn't willing to let it die quite yet.
Mickey pressed further, always wanting to know as much as possible and not willing to let the subject rest, "What was it though, what caused it?" he insisted and I winced again, feeling the headache I was already sporting grow more painful.
"We weren't in the shop, we were outside, we didn't see anything," Rose answered him, shrugging lightly. She met my eyes once again and I knew that she wasn't going to tell him anything. She drunk more from her mug, picking up a newspaper from several days ago, "You need to clean your flat,"
I opened my mouth to reply when Mum came in from the kitchen, "It's Debbie on the end," she informed Rose and I, "She knows a man on the 'Mirror," I shrugged, not interested in what she had to say, "Five hundred quid for an interview," she looked excited, and I looked up.
"Oh that's brilliant," I replied, holding my hand out, "Give it here," she handed it to me, and I pressed the off button, slamming the phone down on the table, "We're not going to give any interviews to any people from the press,"
She looked affronted, folding her arms tightly, "Well you've got to find some way of making money," she said brusquely, "Your job is kaput, and you'll need to find some way of making the rent for this place,"
"I can get a job," I said to her, bristling slightly with the unspoken insult. Mum and I never quite saw eye to eye on any matters. She was happy with her world, where I wanted...so much more. And unlike Rose, I was quite happy about verbalising them to our mother. I continued on, "And I'm keeping this flat. If you have a problem with Rose staying in your flat then Rose can stay here," I smiled slightly coldly, "Like I have continually offered to her,"
She looked indignant at that prospect, as if I had caused her some embarrassment, "I'm not bailing her out," she informed me slightly stiffly. The phone started ringing and she picked it up, her tone of voice changing immediately, "Bev, they're alive," she walked off again, "I've told them, sue for compensation, they were within seconds of death!" she went back into the kitchen, and I shot Rose a look of irritation at her actions. She looked pointedly at me and I nodded in defeat.
When Mum was out of sight, Mickey looked at Rose, and eying the mug in her hand with slight disgust, "What you're drinking tea?" he asked her, taking it off her, and trying to pull her up by the arm, "Nah, that's no good, that's no good. You're in shock, you need something stronger," I returned to looking at the computer, knowing that he wanted to just go down the pub.
Rose looked more than reluctant to go with Mickey, "Nah, I'm all right," she said to him, staying where she was on the sofa, acting as a dead weight.
"Nah, come on, you deserve a proper drink," Mickey still couldn't see that she didn't really want to leave my flat, "We're going down the pub, you and me, my treat-how about it?" he asked her, pulling at her arm again. He looked at her in that faintly revolting puppy dog way, that instantly made me feel slightly nauseous. I didn't care what they did together, but I didn't particularly appreciate it if they were going to do anything in my flat.
"Is there a match on?" she asked him and I chuckled. Rose could always see right through anything and in her boyfriend's case, she could see what he was up to most of the time. She could also see through many of my attempts to lie to her as well.
He looked ruffled, "No, no," he bluffed. One of the things that Mickey Smith wasn't was a good liar, and it clearly showed as he sat back down next to her. "I'm just thinking about you, babe,"
She nodded, sarcastically, "There's a match on, ain't there?" she said,
"Yes, there is," I said, typing rapidly into my laptop, "It's Chelsea vs. Arsenal," I deliberately kept my eyes on my computer, sensing that both of them were now looking at me, "He wants to go down there to watch a football match," I bit my lip, "If you did go down there then I am not stopping you,"
Mickey glared at me slightly, "Thanks Mary-Anne," he said to me, not happy with my ousting his efforts of going down the pub to see a game of football. I merely smiled sweetly in his direction. He turned to look pleadingly at Rose, knowing that she would easily crumble, "That's not the point, we could catch the last five minutes," he smiled winningly at her,
"Go on then," Rose said to him, "I'm fine, really. Go, and get rid of that," she pointed at the plastic hand
Mickey smiled at Rose, kissing her on the lips quickly, before pushing her back onto the sofa, "Please don't do that in front of me," I muttered, "There is a younger and more impressionable teenager in this room," they ignored me and I aimed a kick at Rose who nearly tripped up Mickey trying to dodge me.
Mickey picked up the arm, and waved it in a childish, "Bye," he waved it, and then pretended to choke himself. I opened the front door, waiting for him to get out of my flat, "I'm leaving, I'm leaving," he grumbled to me and I cocked my head, pretending not to hear him, "See you later, babe," he nodded to Rose.
"Bye," said Rose smiling at him as he walked out of the flat.
I slammed the door in his face, "Bye," I smiled slightly to myself, before walking back in the living room, and resting on the doorframe, looking at my mother who was still talking on the phone to Bev, "Come on, Mum!" I was getting tired after everything that had happened that day.
"Yeah?" she looked at me, stopping mid flow,
I looked at Rose, "I'm going to stay here tonight, Mum," she said to her and Mum immediately looked prepared to argue with her, "I have a key, don't worry, I have a key," she didn't look convinced, "Come on, Mum, we need to get over the shock of today," she nodded reluctantly, and I hid a smile behind my hand as she walked out of my flat, returning to her conversation. Rose crossed her legs on the sofa looking at me. I took a seat opposite her, mirroring her position, "Who do you think he was?" she asked me, "That man?"
I shook my head, "I don't know," I sighed, running a hand through my hair, "He could have been anyone, or maybe someone connected with the military. He did say that his name was the Doctor," I bit my lip, looking at her, "He's different from the rest of us. I don't know...I thought he was..." I looked down at my hands, "There's something about him,"
"A feeling?" she inquired, and I didn't say anything, "Or just your instincts telling you that?"
"Both," I said, standing up, "He's not from London, that much is obvious," I stretched, before closing my eyes, "It's getting dark, and I'm tired," I walked into my bedroom, changing quickly. I looked at my desk, biting my lip. I crouched down, opening a drawer and pulled out a blue empty book. I had kept this blank book for years, never using it. It seemed a good time as any to start using it. I opened it, bending the stiff spine, and writing down what had happened that day, including everything with the man called the Doctor. I paused, and then for some reason placed: Day One at the top of the page. I frowned, falling asleep.
The alarm rang shrilly in my ear.
I groaned slightly to myself, stretching and rolling out from underneath the warm covers on the bed, placing my hand to my head. I had the strangest dream. "There's no point getting up," Rose called from the kitchen, "It's not like we have a job," I immediately slumped back, closing my eyes again, and allowed myself to sleep again.
Half an hour later and I walked into the living room, rubbing my eyes, stopping suddenly as I saw who was at my table, drinking a cup of tea and talking rapidly.
"You let Mum in?" I turned to look at Rose, who had just come in from the kitchen, "Play nice," I smiled tightly, accepting the cup of tea, and sitting down at the table, "She's lost her key," she added and I pretended to look surprised, "I don't think you'll mind,"
"Of course not," I remarked, and looked pointedly at me, "As you wish, naturally," I looked at Mum, "You're not on the phone then?"
"No," Mum said,
"You're in your dressing gown," I said, stupidly, seeing that she was indeed wearing her pink silk bathrobe. As long as no one had seen her walking up the flight of stairs to my flat in her dressing gown then it didn't really matter to me, just...quite unnerving really, "Don't tell me, she's going on about getting another job,"
"You both have to earn something," Mum demanded, and I bit into an apple from the bowl in front of me. I swallowed it heavily, grimacing at the sugary taste of the fruit, and placing it back on the table, resolving not to touch it again, "You both have to eat, there's Finch's, they've always got jobs,"
"Oh great," Rose muttered, taking the other apple, "The butchers," I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.
Mum glared at us, "Well, it might do you good," she said, "That shop's given you airs and graces, and I'm not joking it about compensation," she stood up, "You've both had genuine shock and trauma," she walked towards the door, "Arianna got two thousand quid off the council just because the old man behind the desk said she looked Greek," I frowned in confusion, "I know she is Greek but that's not the point, it was a valid claim. I'm going to get dressed," she walked out the front door, slamming it. I calmly drank the tea, a slightly satisfied look passing over my face.
"Don't look so pleased," Rose warned me, and I glanced at her briefly, "She's right you know, we do need to get a job because you need to pay your bills, and get some decent food in this house," she threw the finished apple core in the bin, "I had to buy some fruit, there was nothing but milk in the fridge,"
"So that's where the apples came from," I muttered, before raising my voice, "Apparently there's always Finch's," she snorted and I placed my cup of tea down on the coaster, "I'm going to finish off getting ready. Then we can go job hunting to your heart's delight," I walked back into my room, picking up the abandoned mascara bottle by the mirror.
After a minute, Rose poked her head around the door, "You're such a liar," she said to me, irritated, "I told you to nail that cat flap down; you're going to get strays,"
I placed down the bottle, staring at her. She knew that I had nailed the wretched thing nearly a month ago, "I did it weeks ago," I answered, nonplussed, before shrugging and returning to look in the mirror, "I don't like cats, why would I invite them into the house?"
"You thought about nailing it down," she retorted disappearing from the doorway. I sighed, staring at my pale face in the mirror, before following her, seeing her bent over the cat flap. I crouched down next to her, picking up the nails that were now scattered on the floor.
I passed one to her, "I told you," I hissed, and then suddenly at-flap moved. We both instinctively moved backwards, before I ventured closer, flicking the cat-flap open. I twisted my head, opening it fully and staring when the Doctor's face filled the hole there. I jumped back, opening the door, and almost hitting Rose in the face as she was standing up.
I stared at him. He was wearing exactly the same clothes as yesterday and wore a confused look on his face when he saw Rose and I. Clearly he hadn't been expecting us to be behind the door, just as we hadn't been expecting him to be taking nails out in my door, "What are you doing here?" he asked,
I grew even more confused, "This is my flat," I replied, "I live here,"
He looked from side to side, as if he had got the wrong door, and was completely innocent in this, "Well what do you do that for?" he inquired,
Looking at him like he was completely insane, I shrugged, "I just do," I told him, "And we're," I pointed between Rose and I, "Only here because someone blew up our job," I folded my arms, "I don't suppose you want to explain the reason for that again?"
He took out his screwdriver again, whirring it lightly, and once again ignoring my questions, "I must have the wrong signal, you're not plastic are you?" he tapped my head hard, and I reared back not appreciating the action, "No, bonehead," my mouth dropped at the insult, but it didn't seem to register with him at all. He held up a hand in farewell, "Bye then," He appeared to be ready to move on, and I laughed sarcastically, pulling him inside the front door, "Mind the coat,"
"I'll try not to damage anything," I closed the door, walking into the living room and moving the newspapers off the sofa, "Don't mind the wires," I waved a hand at the wires that were attached around the room, "I haven't had time to sort it out yet," I mused slightly before looking at him. "Do you want a coffee?"
"Might as well thanks," he said, gazing at the room as if he had never seen a living room before, "Just milk,"
I hesitated slightly, "Would that be milk or coffee and milk?"
He looked back at me, surprise showing in his eyes. Once again for the second time that day, the feeling that he was very different from the rest of us stole over me, "You're smart, just milk," he replied and I nodded to myself as Rose and I went into the kitchen. I watched him carefully as Rose made the tea and he looked around the living room, picking up different objects and commenting on them. He didn't act like socially normal person, and I would have gone as far as to say that he tried to be as different as he could, yet all the while trying to blend in with everyone.
"Do you have a cat?" the man asked me, and I turned to the coffee that Rose had just finished with, picking the hot mugs up.
"No," I shook my head, "I don't like cats, I don't like most pet animals but I sometimes get strays off the estate," We both walked into the room, and stopped at the sight of him "I thought Mickey chucked that out," he was pretending for the plastic hand to choke him,
"You're all the same," Rose sat down, grumbling slightly with the lack of any information, "Give a man a plastic hand," I placed the coffee mug on the table, watching him carefully. He didn't look like he was playing around, And anyway we don't even know your name, Doctor what was it?" the plastic arm suddenly flew off him, twisting and flexing in the air before slamming into Rose's face.
"What on earth?" I asked rushing to try and get it off her. I was pulling at the hand as hard as I could but it seemed far too strong. She stumbled forward and I quickly pushed her onto the sofa, the Doctor and I both trying to get it off her. The arm appeared to have a life of its own, "You are not going to smash my table, Rose," I glared at the man, who suddenly seemed to not be doing a lot, "Use your screwdriver thing!" Rose was thrashing around, and it looked like she was trying to gasp for some air.
He stared at me, pulling out the small silver tube, "How did you know it was a screwdriver?" he asked me and I threw him a glare. It wasn't exactly a question that was particularly suitable for this situation.
"It's blue!" I shouted at him, waving my hands, "I don't know, it makes a buzzing noise?" I looked at Rose, "My sister!" he looked at her before quickly buzzing his screwdriver at the hand. With a slow creak of plastic, it finally stopped moving and Rose gasped for air, "Thank you," I said genuinely.
He grinned widely, "There now," he looked at the pale plastic as if he had just achieved a sense of triumph, "Stopped it," he chucked it at Rose and she breathed in, recoiling backwards a little, "Armless," he smiled at his own joke.
My sister stared at him as if he was insane, "You think?" she said rhetorically, before hitting him as hard as she could with it.
He winced, rubbing the place where she had hit him. He stood up, looking at both at us, holding the arm, "See you then," he said suddenly, walking out of the door.
I stared after him. He really was the most impossible man.
