Clara returned with two more drinks and set them down on the table.
"I can't figure you out," said Emily, looking at her up and down, narrowing her eyes, "you seem perfectly normal, have a reputable job... but I cannot take anything you say seriously. What do you teach? I bet it's Geography or History."
"Do I really look like a History or a Geography teacher?" Clara said, surprised. "Try again."
"Creative writing?" Emily asked.
"Well, sort of... English."
"So are you doing that thing that teachers who think they are cool do to show they are," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "'down with the kids'? Hey, let's create a few memes or, tonight's homework, what would Jane Austen text someone she fancied if she were about today, LOL, YOLO, all of that shit?" Emily jested.
"Of course, that's exactly what I am doing," Clara said sarcastically drinking her wine nonchalantly, although thinking about it, it seemed as reasonable an explanation as any.
"I don't buy that at all," Emily said raising an eyebrow, "what's the truth?"
"Well," Clara took a long sip of wine, "my friend, the Doctor, he's a time traveller, we went back in time to the 1800s and met Jane Austen, one of my favourite writers, we play pranks on each other, we text each other from time to time, and..." she paused, a cheeky smile passing over her lips, "we have an occasional thing as she is an exceptionally good kisser."
Emily looked at Clara and sipped her drink through the straw, creasing her eyebrows. She tilted her head.
"What?" said Clara.
"Can you hear yourself? I mean, are you actually listening to what you are saying?" Emily said, slightly impatiently.
"You asked for the truth," said Clara, "whether you believe it s up to you."
"You are completely insane," said Emily.
"Or maybe," Clara lied, "one of the other teachers at my school dressed up as Jane Austen for a project we were doing and took it way way too far," Clara sighed, "especially since that night of the work do when I had a little bit too much wine and I woke up in her bed the next morning holding my shoe and a bottle of tequila." She still had no recollection of what happened that night to this day.
"We've all been there," Emily agreed, laughing to herself. "Now, that I can believe. Did you find the other one?"
"The other what?" Clara screwed up her face.
"The other shoe?"
"Oh yeah, I did, eventually. It was in the garden." Clara sipped her drink. "You do not leave Kurt Geigers in someone's house."
"I've been home without shoes more times than I can remember." Emily smiled at her, Clara hoped this had been a good enough explanation.
"Do you believe me now?" Clara asked, a grin covering her face.
"I guess," Emily said. "So this doctor, how did you meet him? How does someone like you meet a creepy old Scottish man who surprises you in your bedroom at all hours and then whisks you away travelling?"
"He was at the end of a computer helpline, he helped me find how to connect the wifi on my laptop a few years ago, and then he turned up..." she paused slightly, slowing down her words as she realised how this would sound, "he turned up at my front door."
"Isn't that breaking some sort of data protection rule? Sounds an awful lot like he was stalking you."
"I guess he was back then, he said I reminded him of someone he met years ago when he was younger, someone who looked identical to me in olden days London."
"Like a twin?" Emily asked, curious.
"I guess like a twin, there are lots of people out there that look like me," she skirted around the truth, all those copies of her throughout time and space would sound ridiculous.
"You know, I'm an identical twin, so there's always going to be someone that looks like me," Emily said.
"You're a twin?" Clara said, "how interesting. Do you two ever, like, pretend to be each other?"
"Not really, although..." Emily paused, "I did take her History AS for her, the makeup took me fucking ages." She pointed to the left side of her head saying as an aside, "she got hit on the head by a rock, needed stitches, left for dead in a wood during a camping trip."
"Is she OK?" Clara asked, slightly concerned.
"She's fine, that was years ago, like 2008 or 9!" She laughed.
"Sounds quite dramatic," said Clara, taking a sip of wine, looking at her, mentally calculating. "So that makes you, what, like 24, 25? You look a lot younger."
"25 in May," Emily said, "Why, how old are you?"
There were several answers to this question Clara could have gone with. "27," Clara sighed, lying to see if she could get away with it, she was 30 this year.
"I would have guessed same age as me... ish." Clara had judged it right, ish meant a bit older.
"Don't give me an-" Clara stopped herself. "So anyway, you were telling me about the accident...?"
"I guess it was quite dramatic, the whole couple of years were," Emily trailed off, lost in thought for a moment as she stirred her drink with the straw. "Wouldn't change a single day though."
"Does your sister live here?" Clara asked.
"No, she's still in Bristol, works with my mum in her Bridal boutique business, engaged to some non league football player," Emily said, "who is the biggest dick I've ever met."
"Why don't you like him?"
"For a start, he's just a compete prick, I don't know what she sees in him," Emily said, matter-of-factly. "Then I found out he trashed my scooter a few months ago, but Katie didn't fucking tell me until yesterday. Bitch."
"You ride?" said Clara, surprised.
"Well, I apparently don't any more thanks to that bell end..." Emily said, resigned, "I left it in Bristol so it wouldn't get nicked in London and then it gets joyrided into a lamp post. Like I said, he is a dick."
"What type of scooter?"
"It was only a shitty little second hand Vesta, bright orange, but it has, well it had, a lot of memories. I bought it for like £200 from a friend of a friend."
"The Doctor leant me a motorbike..." Clara said with a twinkle in her eye, "I say leant, I stole it from his garage and I conveniently forgot to give it back. He hasn't had a problem with it."
"I bet he hasn't," said Emily, "he still sounds like a creepy old man. Is it a nice bike?"
"A Triumph," Clara said, eyes glittering, "He did have a dark blue Vespa in there too, but what can I say, I know an expensive bike when I see one. So I borrowed it."
"You've got to be fucking kidding, that is a sexy bike," Emily exclaimed, "what did he ask you for in return?"
"Nothing," said Clara, confused.
"Do you pay for your trips? I've seen those adverts on TV, teachers aren't exactly minted are they?"
"No, they are not," laughed Clara.
"So he takes you away for free, gives you a motorbike for free... so you're an escort?" Emily asked, serious.
"No! Do I look like an escort?!" Clara shouted, a little louder than she intended. A couple of people turned around from nearby tables. She sipped the last mouthful of her wine, blushing.
"Right now," Emily leaned away from the table and looked at her clothing, "I'd say not. But you can never tell." Emily's eyes betrayed that she was joking."
"I," Clara said, lowering her voice, "am 100% completely not an escort, I'm a school teacher who likes to travel with an older man. Nothing more or less than that." She had a defiant look in her eyes. The more she thought about it though, the more it made sense that her relationship with the Doctor was a bit... odd.
"OK, ok, understood, not an escort," Emily said, laughing. There was an awkward silence as the dust settled.
"So what do you do?" Clara asked, she did already know the answer. She aimed a small smile in Emily's direction.
Emily finished her drink and pulled the phone out of her bag to look at the time, she stared down at it for a moment. Clara watched her mentally weigh up what to say. "Photography," Emily said, getting up from her seat suddenly, distracted, looking at the handset. "I'm ringing, will you excuse me for one minute?" She took her bag with her.
"Go for it," Clara said. She watched Emily go outside and answer the phone, lighting up another cigarette. The Doctor had left her a voicemail message, whilst they'd been talking. She listened to it, a confused angry blur of words and chatter, unable to hear it over the conversation and music in the bar. She ignored it.
Clara was actually secretly enjoying herself, not sure if it was the wine or the conversation, but it seemed to her at least they had a few things in common.
She watched Emily smoking, half wondering if she was going to walk off. Emily looked at her directly through the window and laughed into the phone before taking one last drag, stubbing the cigarette into a bin on the wall. She walked back in but didn't sit down.
"Sorry about that... Someone was checking up on me, my plans appear to have changed... would you like another?"
"I hope you told whoever it was that I haven't murdered you," Clara joked. "Go on then," she said, no convincing needed.
Emily disappeared to the bar, returning with a full bottle of rose wine and two glasses. She set them down and then hopped up onto the bar stool.
"I hope you don't mind sharing a bottle?" Emily said. "I just got IDed for this, hope it is fucking worth it."
"Not at all." Clara said, "I haven't had a conversation with anyone like this for ages, the Doctor never wants to know about me, and everyone at work only talks about the kids. I guess I should be thanking you."
Emily poured out a glass of wine for herself and handed the bottle to Clara. "I hate to say it, but for a crazy woman you're pretty intriguing."
"Is that a compliment?" Clara asked, unsure whether to be offended or pleased. She poured herself a sizeable measure.
"From me, yes," Emily smiled, "I'd have made an excuse to leave by now if I wasn't enjoying myself, you are a very welcome distraction."
"So how does someone do photography for a living?" Clara asked, almost goading her.
"After my gap year I moved to London to do a degree, and then I applied for an internship in New York-" Emily said.
"New York? Did you take that picture on your phone? The background picture?" Clara interrupted.
"Yes," nodded Emily.
"I've always wanted to go there," sighed Clara. "Excellent picture, by the way."
"Thanks, I love it, so vibrant and excessive," Emily smiled, she took a large glug of wine. "I got some great experience and some good exposure."
Clara laughed, "is that a photography in-joke? Like it."
"What? Oh yeah, exposure, right, yes," she trailed off, a small smile passing over her lips.
"So how come you're back here then?"
"I was there for eight months, and then I had to come back home before I completed it as..." she paused, "my girlfriend got sick. Very sick. I didn't manage to finish the course."
"I'm sorry... how long have you been together?" Clara asked.
"We were together five years," Emily looked down at her wine, watching the liquid coat the inside of the glass. "Together since we were 16."
Clara identified the use of the past tense, and could mentally add up in her head that there was a three year gap so proceeded carefully. "What happened?"
Emily looked away, "She got cancer." She swallowed heavily before sipping her wine. "Didn't tell me for six months, I come back when her flatmate calls me and she died the week after."
Clara looked at her, she could read Emily's look."I'm-" she started and then stopped herself. It was the last thing she would want to hear.
"That was two and a half years ago," Emily didn't cry but it looked like she could have if she wanted to. Clara knew that feeling. "I took me a long time to sort myself out. I was a fucking mess for most of the next year, I went back to Bristol for a bit, I drank and took pills to take the pain away. Makes you realise how fragile life is."
"I felt like that after my mum died," said Clara, thinking back to 2005, "I remember standing there at her grave with my dad thinking, how is this going to get better? It can't be fixed. I was 19, just started my degree..."
"What did you study?" Emily said, looking grateful to not have to explain any further.
"English Literature at Roehampton," Clara said. "I had all these plans to go travelling after my degree," she sighed. "I've had a book since I was 8 of 101 Places To See."
"Have you been to any of them?" Emily asked, "did the Doctor take you?"
"A few in passing, but not really, he seems to be working from the currently unpublished book of 101 Places You Have Never Even Heard Of But Are Actually Pretty Amazing." Clara sipped her wine gently.
"So what happened? Why didn't you travel?" Emily topped up her glass
"I agreed to be, like, a summer babysitter for my dad's mate George, for their two kids Artie and Angie. And then their mum died so I stayed with them, poor kids were heartbroken."
"I bet."
"So I just ended up not leaving. And then the Doctor turned up," Clara said, "dressed as a monk," she said as an aside, "and he took me to all these amazing places, and we just kind of travelled together. He used to turn up every Wednesday and we'd go off."
"So like date night then?" Emily probed.
"You could call it that I suppose," Clara agreed.
"How does that work on a school night? Don't you have to be back for Thursday morning?" It was a very valid point, how was she going to explain this?
"He always drops me back in time," she said. Not technically a lie.
Emily pondered for a moment, topping up her wine glass from the bottle. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead," Clara said.
"He's imaginary, isn't he?" Emily asked, "a coping mechanism for the grief you've had. My psychiatrist told me I might have something like that happen after Naomi died, as a way to fill the space they've left."
"I assure you he is real," Clara said, she could see why Emily thought this. "He's my best friend, and he needs me to reign himself in sometimes."
"So if you rang him now he'd answer?"
"I'm quite sure he wouldn't, he struggles with two way conversation." Clara laughed.
"Ring him," Emily dared her, "tell him to come and meet us!"
"He doesn't do social calls," Clara mused, "but I do like winding him up." She retrieved her phone and saw another couple of missed calls from him. She dialled his number and it rang out. "Typical." She left a voicemail message, rolling her eyes at Emily. "Hi Doctor, it's me, sorry I missed your," she emphasised the number, "400 missed calls, I lost my phone, only just got it back. Give me a call when you get this." She put her phone away.
There was a knock on the window in front of them, Clara saw the Doctor on the other side of the glass, he was grinning painfully.
"Oh, that's him," Clara pointed. "Let me just see what he wants. Excuse me for a minute."
"How- What-," Emily stuttered as Clara jumped down off the seat. "How the fuck has he just done that?"
Clara walked around Emily and went outside, the Doctor was standing looking at her. "Hello Clara. Well technically past Clara, future Clara is in the TARDIS because she," he paused, saying loudly, "answered her phone." He gave her an impatient look. She looked over at the TARDIS, about 50 metres down the road and saw herself wave, she waved back.
"Hello Doctor. What do you want? I'm sort of busy," Clara said.
"Apparently I needed to come all the way down here right now to tell you something."
"And what is that?" Clara said, curious.