Chapter Four
Six weeks had passed since the doors to the TARDIS closed and left her in her flat to resume her life as if nothing had happened. No calls, no hidden messages, no whirring of the time-machine manifesting in her living room nor anywhere else for that matter. Not a single clue to the Doctor's whereabouts in all that time. Was he alive? Dead? Trapped on some planet billions of light-years from her? As often as she tried to hide the dreaded thoughts that found their way into her mind, there was no one else she could turn to. No one who would understand.
"How am I doing? Well, for one, my time travelling space alien not-boyfriend is probably off being tortured somewhere or trying to save an entire species from extinction and he's abandoned me here while he's off gallivanting the universe without me! But thanks for asking!"
The ridiculous nature of that one-sided conversation was enough to bring even the smallest amount of humour into her clouded thoughts. As difficult as it had been to resume her life "as normal", she could not dissuade the constant reminder that he hadn't come back. It was a feeling she just couldn't shake. Such as when an empty cup once containing your favourite beverage had been drained of its final drop and had sat next to you at the table for some time. Every so often you pick it up to take a sip, only then to experience the saddened reminder that it is vacant of any liquid. That is what it felt like to be without the Doctor while trying to pretend that his very existence, or lack thereof, had not altered her life in any way.
As she stood in front of her students lecturing on the importance of literature throughout human history, she couldn't help but think to herself that as many adventures as she had been through, as many stars and planets and species she had seen past even the ending of the Earth itself, time had barely passed for anyone else. Yesterday's homework, which felt as if it has been assigned years before, was simply today's paperwork to be marked. It had remained a constant struggle to keep her own living timeline in order let alone the many she had encountered throughout her travels with the Doctor.
Though her physical body had remained a teacher at the Coal Hill School, her mind wandered aimlessly as her students read experts from their current works. Even her love life, if she could call it that, was suffering as Mr. Pink continued to comment on her absent-mindedness as of late. Fooling him into believing there was nothing the matter proved more difficult than trying to understand all that was and is the Doctor.
"That was great, Samuel. Thank you. Would anyone else like to read their work?" Several of the students raised their hands. "Let's see. Okay, Marie. If you don't mind." The girl stood and began to address the class with her most recent writing.
Clara took a seat at her desk to jot down a few notations while the girl read aloud. Trying to keep the thoughts of her best friend out of her head, she couldn't help but peer down at her phone for which felt like the hundred-thousandth time since she last saw him. No missed calls, no messages, just nothing. The urge to call him always lingered in her mind but she resisted as she knew that when he was ready she would know. Feeling the sadness overwhelming her, she tried to concentrate on her work.
Suddenly there was a faint tapping coming from the viewing window of the classroom door. At first she thought it was nothing, just her mind playing tricks on her as none of the other students lifted their heads in acknowledgement of the sound. Then she heard it again. A distinct tapping noise coming from the hall. And then she saw him, as sure as there are stars in the sky, standing on the other side of the window waving at her. The Time Lord.
Seriously? Here? Now?! She could barely even contain her anger as she silently mouthed the words "go away" through gritted teeth. She raised a hand signalling to him that she was in class doing her job and there were students to teach.
"Miss Oswald, shall I go on?" the girl asked, taking notice of her teacher's distracted gaze.
"Yes! Sorry, Marie. Please continue," she replied, trying her hardest to ignore the old man's impatient pacing back and forth from behind the closed door. The anger was building up inside of her as she thought about how much worse his timing could possibly be.
"Miss Oswald?" another student began.
"Yes, James. What is it?"
"I think the caretaker is trying to get your attention."
Clara sighed then looked towards the door where the Doctor was waving his hands signalling for her to come out. "Well, I suppose I'll go see what he wants then. Excuse me a minute, be right back. Oh, and uh, just keep reading, Marie." She approached the door, eyes squinted and fuming towards the Doctor. She opened the door and exaggeratedly greeted the man dressed in a caretaker's uniform. "Ah yes, Mr Smith! How may I help you?" She waited until the door was closed then lowered her voice to return to her natural state. "What are you doing here! Where have you been?! You know what, I don't even want to know. I can't even believe you!"
"Clara, I need you to come with me. Right now." His hurriedness did little to derail her anger.
"Oh hello, Clara!" she imitated his voice in her best Scottish accent. "Sorry I've been gone for six weeks without ringing and dumped you off here without any explanation to where I've been in all that time. What d'you say we go out for some chips and pretend like this whole thing never happened, eh?"
"How can you possibly think of food at a time like this?! Wait, did you say six weeks?"
"Yes, idiot! Six weeks! For all I knew you could have been dead! Do you even understand how cross I am with you?!"
"Never mind that. Listen, Clara. I think I've stumbled onto a clue to our memory loss. But you need to come with me immediately!"
"Doctor, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm in the middle of class."
"And? Just let the little pudding-brains take over! Look, that one there," he pointed to Marie who was continuing to read to the class, "she looks like she could handle things in your stead."
"Unlike you, Doctor, I'm not abandoning my students whom I care about to go on some worm chasing escapade with you!" she fumed, trying not to raise her voice any louder than she should.
"Fine!" he conceited. "Meet me after your class. In the caretaker's building. This is a matter of utmost importance!"
Clara approached the caretaker's building being careful not to attract any attention to herself. She casually monitored her surroundings and when she felt there were no peering eyes she opened the door. Inside was all that could be expected of a caretaker's managings. Spare linens, a few brooms strewn about, and in the corner appearing as though it had always belonged there was the TARDIS. She placed a hand upon its closed doors letting it know of her presence and thought to herself how much she had missed the old girl. With a heavy sigh, she opened the door and stepped inside to prepare herself for what was to happen next.
"Ah, Clara! Good, you're here!" came the Doctor's voice, his face half hidden from behind the time rotor. He hurried over to her, took her arm, and gently dragged her to the middle of the room. "Tell me, what's the last thing you remember?"
"Well let's see," she started, still unbelievably cross with him, "first you showed up to my school, interrupted my class, called my students pudding brains-"
"Yes yes, before that!" he interrupted. "Before the memory worms."
"I dunno. I remember being at home, getting ready for my date, then you showed up in my living room…" She strained to recall all that had happened that night.
"Anything else?" he tested her, trying to determine how far back this all started.
"And then… then the TARDIS phone rang."
"Precisely! The phone rang. Don't you see, Clara? That's where this all began. The moment I picked up that phone the start of an entire night we don't even remember occurred."
"I don't understand." She tried to let go of her frustrations with him over the past six weeks of her life to become what he needed from her at this moment the most. To be his companion. "The phone deleted our memories?"
"I'm afraid it goes much deeper than that," he attempted to explain. "The phone call was just a fixed point in time. It's everything after that which has been altered. If I hadn't answered the phone, you would have gone off to your date as if nothing had happened. But something did happen, Clara."
She stood silently staring at the man in front of her and tried to decide if she was supposed to speak next. Yet she couldn't think of a single thing to add to his wild detachment from the reality in which she was living.
He sighed heavily. He knew he had hurt her. He asked her to wait and wait she had without ever knowing if he would be coming back for her. One of the most difficult parts of being the Doctor was not being able to understand the fragility of human emotions. "Clara, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I left you here. That I was not there for you." He struggled to find the words to express exactly what he was feeling at that moment. For him, time could pass in the blink of an eye. But for everyone else, for Clara, well, without him she was living her life on the slow path as if each day were an eternity. "I've spent the last six weeks trying to retrace our steps hoping they would lead me to an answer," he continued. "The data to the TARDIS was deleted either by force or with purpose. There is no record of us having even left your flat. I searched everywhere for even the smallest trail of breadcrumbs that would explain what happened that night." He studied her face hoping for any amount of reassurance that somewhere inside that stubbornness of hers she could find it in her heart to forgive him. "I was at a loss. Until I found this." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small rectangular sheet of paper to hand to her. "I found it inside the breast pocket of my tuxedo. I have no memory of how it got there."
Clara reluctantly read the inscription on the face of the paper aloud, "You're invited. We welcome you to join us during the Prima Nova Biannual Charity Auction Ball." She reread the card a few more times in her head, the frown on her face deepening each time she read it. "That's it? That's all there is? Just an invitation to a party?"
"Not just any party, it's the party. The one we attended six weeks ago, the one we can't remember."
"So, what do we do? Go back in time and attend the event to see what happened to us?"
"Unfortunately, no. We can't risk running into our past selves. It could create a rift in the fabric of time."
"Alright. So now what?" She tried to keep up with the fast-paced thoughts of her best friend.
"The answer is right there in front of you! It says 'biannual', as in more than one!" The Doctor was on the move creating laps around the console, pulling levers and pressing buttons.
"Okay, so…" She started to understand what was going through that daft mind of his.
"So... we simply go forward in time and attend the next event. Surely whomever originally gave me this invitation will be there. It's the best option we have to figure out who might have been involved in all of this."
"We're going now?!" She realized what a silly question that was almost immediately after asking it. Of course he meant now.
"Well, not like this we aren't," he gestured to their appearance.