Blinding light seemed to hit her at the same time as the rest of her slammed to the ground. Clara blinked, raising her head, finding herself lying face down on a cobblestoned street. She began to push herself up, her body beginning to feel the pain of her impact with the ground.

'Are you alright dear?' she heard a voice say, the sound accompanied by what must have been high heeled feet. Before she knew it there was a middle aged woman beside her, hauling her up from the cobbles. 'Oh thank you, yeah I'm fine. I just had a fall,' she said, declining to add 'into a completely different place.' She concluded that she must've passed out somewhere along the line, but that didn't explain why she was on a street she didn't recognise instead of back at the graveyard. What kind of power did those angels have?

'It looks like you've had quite the topple, you're tights are ruined,' the woman said, still pulling Clara along by the forearm, leading her to the footpath. 'So they are,' Clara replied, glancing at the newly formed holes in the knees of her stockings. She looked around, trying to get her bearings and having no luck. 'Excuse me, could you tell me where we are?' she asked. The woman pointed towards the nearest sign. 'We're on George street dear.' Clara nodded, none the wiser. 'Ok, but George street where?'

The woman blinked.

'I mean what city?'

'Oh...Leeds...' the woman explained, her expression somewhere between concerned and pitying.

'Leeds?' asked Clara, stunned. 'But I was... I've been to Leeds before, it never looked like this,' she added, more to herself than the woman.

'That's because they're having all the work done,' the woman replied, as though sharing the pride of her city with an unknowing tourist. Clara looked at her, trying to hide her puzzlement. 'Oh yes, it'll be a whole different city by 1990, it'll be wonderful!'

'By 1990?' Clara asked, fear setting in. 'What year is it now?'

That concerned look in the woman's eyes became much more pronounced. '1986 dear, are you sure you're alright from that fall?'

'You know actually I don't think I am. I think I need to go and lie down for a while,' she replied.

'Oh, that's a shame. Come with me I'll sort you out.'

Clara absentmindedly followed the woman's lead, too bewildered to protest or ask where they were going. She had to get in contact with the Doctor as soon as possible. She didn't know how on Earth she'd ended up here, but she knew her alien friend was the only one who could possibly get her out of this mess. They walked for a while, up and down streets, around corners, eventually reaching a quieter, residential area. Clara only realised it was the woman's house when she was inside the living room being handed a cup of tea. 'Oh thanks,' Clara said, taking it, calming herself with a sip. 'There's a spare bedroom upstairs, just give me a shout if you want to have a rest.'

'Thank you so much, you don't have to be so kind.'

'Nonsense! Nothing wrong with a bit of hospitality, especially these days.'

Clara smiled, warming to the woman. She had certainly happened to fall in front of the right person. 'What's your name by the way, I didn't catch it earlier?' she asked.

'Marjorie, and you are?'

'Clara,' she replied.

'Lovely name! Well I better get on with my chores, and do let me know if you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen.'

Marjorie headed off about her business as Clara sank further into the flower patterned couch, trying to get her head around the situation she had ended up in. When she had straightened it all in her had, she lowered her tea and phoned the Doctor.

'Come on, pick up,' she mumbled while the phone rang out. Sure enough, she was directed to voice mail. She gave a frustrated sigh. 'Oh you Jammie-Dodger eating, fez loving-' she began, cutting herself off when the tone beeped and she had to leave a message.

'How many times have a told you to keep you phone on you at all times?! Anyway it's Clara in case you haven't guessed and I'm stuck, in Leeds, in 1986. Don't ask me how it happened I don't know. I just saw this statue in the graveyard and I woke up here. Just, get your TARDIS here and take me home ok? Quick as you like!' she said, then hung up. She sighed again, wondering how long it would take the Doctor to receive her message. The possibilities of what he was up to were endless. Hopefully he would get here quickly and she could go home, the last thing she needed was to be displaced in time. There was too much going on for her in the present to be dwelling here.

She sipped some more tea and heard the front door open. She pulled the bottom of her skirt down and pulled her tights up, trying her best to hide the holes that had appeared in each knee. She was suddenly on edge, it was likely that Marjorie's husband had returned and would be less accommodating of a perfect stranger in their living room. Clara nervously gulped tea as this new person entered the room. It was a man as she had expected, though he was much too young to be Marjorie's husband, Clara's second guess was that he was her son. 'Oh hello,' he said, surprised. His voice was familiar, and so, now that Clara thought about it, was his face. 'Who are you then?' he asked. 'I, I'm Clara, Marjorie let me in.'

'Oh, she's always doing that. Loves strangers that one,' he said with a smile, and that was something she recognised too, she just couldn't quite place who he reminded her of. She nodded, taking another sip of tea. She was certainly glad of the cup now, it was a social safety net more than anything else. 'Are you Marjorie's son?' she asked, having nothing else better to say.

'No I'm just a tenant. I live upstairs. I'm Victor by the way,' he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. 'Victor Green.'