A/N - the italics is my POV, and the normal is Summer's POV. This goes for every chapter.

▒ vi. the unquiet dead

Mr Sneed crosses a room where a woman lies dead in her coffin and a man stands over her. The man's name is Redpath. Sneed lights a gas lamp. He walks to the man's side. "Sneed and Company offer their sincerest condolences, sir. In this most trying hour."

"Grandmamma had a good innings, Mr Sneed. She was so full of life. I can't believe she's gone."

"Not gone, Mr Redpath, sir. Merely sleeping." A silence fell over the room as the two men looked at the dead woman.

"May I have a moment?" Redpath asked.

"Yes, of course," Sneed replies. "I shall be in the next room, should you require anything." He leaves Redpath alone with his grandmother. Redpath, with his head bowed in grief, does not notice the gas from the gas lamp enter his grandmother's dead body. Nor does he see her eyes snap open. She suddenly grabs Redpath by the neck and strangles him. Mr Sneed bursts back into the room upon hearing the commotions. "Oh, no," He says, as though he's seen this before. The old woman twists her grandson's neck around and he falls to the floor, dead. Sneed tries to wrestle the lid of the coffin back on to trap the crazy dead woman. "Gwyneth!" He calls. "Get down here now! We've got another one!" He is not strong enough to get the lid back on the coffin and the old woman kicks the side off. Sneed falls to the floor, unconscious. This Gwyneth is nowhere to be seen. The woman, known as Mrs Pearce, leaves the house and is seen from the street to have bluish gas-like things around her face. She wails, the most awful wail the people of Cardiff have ever heard.

Oh, god, it's mayhem in here! The whole ship is shaking and groaning in my head. Make it stop! The Tardis says in my head. An alarm starts to go off. "Hold that one down!" The Doctor tells me.

"I only have two hands!" I can't punch him, he is so lucky! "Well, hold them BOTH down!"

"I can't, as I told you, I ONLY HAVE TWO HANDS! You're hurting the Tardis, she's screaming in my head."

"She'll live, Rose, hold that one down." Rose gets off the captain's chair and stands next to me holding this dumb button down.

"It's not going to work!" Rose and I scream at the same time. We look at each other and laugh. "Oi!" The Doctor says. "Summer, I know you say things like that all the time, but Rose, I'm ashamed of you. I promised you a time machine, and that's what you're getting. Now, you've seen the future, let's have a look at the past. 1860. How does 1860 sound?"

"What happened in 1860?" Rose asks.

"I don't know, let's find out. Hold on, here we go!"

In his kitchen, Mr Sneed is dabbing at his forehead. "Gwyneth!" He screams. "Where are you, girl? Gwyneth!" A girl appears, who must be Gwyneth. She has black hair and is wearing a maid's uniform. "Where've you been? I was shouting!"

"I've been in the stables, sir," She says. "Bringing in the ice for old Sampson."

"Well, get back in there and harness him up," Sneed says. Gwyneth looks puzzled. "Whatever for, sir?"

"The stiffs are getting lively again. Mr Redpath's grandmother, she's up and on her feet out there somewhere! On the streets! We've got to find her!"

"Mr Sneed, for shame! How many more times? It's ungodly!"

"Don't look at me like it's my fault! Now come on, hurry up! She was 86, she can't have got far."

"What about Mr Redpath? Did you deal with him?"

"No... she did." Sneed says, not able to look at Gwyneth because of the shame. Gwyneth gasps. "That's awful, sir. I know it's not my place, and please forgive me for talking out of turn, sir, but this is getting beyond now!" Sneed nods. "Something terrible is happening in this house, and we've got to get help."

"And we will! As soon as we get that dead old woman locked up and safe and sound. Now stop prevaricating, girl, get the hearse ready. We're going body snatching!"

The controls are steaming and all of us are lying on the floor, laughing. The Doctor is the first to get up. "Blimey!" Rose says.

"You're telling me! Are you both alright?" The Doctor asks.

"Yeah, I think so! Nothing broken..."

"I'm good!" I say. Well, not everywhere, the Doctor still hasn't mentioned 'you know what'. The Doctor studies the screen while we get up. "I did it! Give the man a medal. Earth, Naples, December 24th, 1860!" Well, you think it is!

"That's so weird, it's Christmas!" Rose says. The Doctor gestures towards the door. "All yours!"

"But, it's like... think about it, though. Christmas, 1860. Happens once. Just once, and it's gone. It's finished. It'll never happen again. Except for you. You can got back and see days that are dead and gone and a hundred thousand sunsets ago... no wonder you never stay still..."

"Not a bad life."

"Better with three." We grin at each other for a few moments. Then Rose runs towards the doors. "Come on then!"

"Oi, oi, oi! Where do you think you're going?" The Doctor asks.

"1860!" Well, duh, Doctor, you were going to get that.

"Go out there dressed like that, you'll start a riot, Barbarella! There's a wardrobe through there. First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, it's the fifth door on your left. Hurry up!"

"What?"

"Oh, take Summer! She'll need to change too!" I roll my eyes. We run off.

"So, how long have you been travelling with the Doctor for?" She asks halfway through our journey to the wardrobe. Sounds like a Monty Python movie. "Two months," I say. "Picked me off the streets in the middle of the night."

"Huh. And I thought I lived a bad life." I laugh at that. "At least you've got family. Me, I've got no one. Except you two, now."

"Oh."

"They're all dead, there was an accident, and things happened, and now they're gone."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. It was a long time ago. Five years ago, I've gotten over it."

"I lost my dad. I never knew him."

"That's better, really, having only one person die but you never knew them, then having heaps die and you knew them all your life."

"That sucks!"

"Tell me about it. That's my life."

"Better, now, you've got the Doctor. And me, if you want."

"One, he's been avoiding me, you've seen, and two, okay!"

"Why has he been avoiding you?"

"When I ran after him, he was really emotional and... kissed me."

"What?" The look on Rose's face is golden. "Yeah. I mean, I don't normally see that happening to him, and when I say normally, I mean never. I guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But, I've seen the way he looks at you, he loves you."

"Don't think I haven't noticed. Damn, I love him too."

"Express the way you feel!"

"It's complicated."

"In what way?"

"Just complicated."

"Okay..."

"What about this?" Rose asks, walking out of the dressing room. She's wearing the exact same thing she wore in the show. "Good. Lets go." I'm wearing a red long sleeve shirt with a black skirt. It's extremely hot, I don't know how Victorian women live!

Sneed and Gwyneth are driving through the streets looking for the old woman. "Not a sign," Sneed says, obviously frustrated.

"She's vanished into the ether sir, where can she be?" Sneed stops the hearse and looks at Gwyneth. "You tell me, girl."

"What do you mean?" Gwyneth says, obviously hiding something.

"Gwyneth, you know full well."

"No, sir, I can't." She's pleading but Sneed doesn't back down. "Use the sight!"

"It's not right, sir!"

"Find the old lady. Or you're dismissed." Gwyneth looks at him, anxiously. She doesn't want to get dismissed, Mr Sneed was the only person to hire him, and she doesn't want to live on the streets, with nothing to eat, no clothes and nowhere to sleep. Sure, Mr Sneed didn't give her much but she heard stories from the women in the village, that sometimes the children they look after scream in the middle of the night and they have to get up. That's not a job for me, Gwyneth always thought. Mr Sneed was a good man. What he gave Gwyneth was enough for Gwyneth. "Now, look inside, girl. Look deep. Where is she?" Gwyneth gives in and closes her eyes. "She's lost, sir. She's so alone. Oh, my lord, forgive me. So many strange things in her head."

"But where?"

"She's excited. About tonight. Before she passed on, she was going to see him."

"Who's him?" Sneed asks, wanting to know badly. He didn't want anyone knowing that he caused all this trouble. He wants that lady back in her coffin. "A great man. All the way from London. The great, great man." Gwyneth grins.

Charles Dickens arrived in Cardiff this morning. He had a minor headache, and was feeling ill, but the show must go on. There is a knocking at his door in his dressing room. Dickens is kneading his forehead inside the room. "Mr Dickens!" The man he got to know as Timothy calls. "Mr Dickens! Excuse me, sir, Mr Dickens, this is your call." Dickens does not respond. The stage manager comes into the room. "Are you quite well, sir?'

"Splendid, splendid, sorry." Timothy loves hearing his voice. His wife, Agnes, had always loved his stories. She begged him to get an autograph when he left for work this morning. A Christmas present, she said. He chuckled silently at that. "Time you were on, sir."

"Absolutely, I was just... brooding. Christmas Eve. Not the best of times to be alone."

"Did no one travel with you, sir. An old lady wife waiting out front?"

"I'm afraid not." Timothy laughs. "You can have mine if you want."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare, I've been rather, let's say, clumsy with family matter. By God, I'm too old to cause any more trouble."

"You speak as though it's all over, sir!"

"Oh, no, it's never over. On and on I go. The same old show." They both look at the poster announcing his show. "I'm like a ghost, condemned to repeat myself..." He stands. "...for all eternity."

"It's never too late, sir. You could always think up some new turns." Timothy would actually rather him not. More gossip from the wife. "No, I can't. Even my imagination grows stale. I'm an old man. Perhaps I've thought everything I'll ever think. Still! The lure of the lime-light! As potent as a pipe what, eh?" Timothy grabs his jacket and help the great man himself put on his jacket. "On with the show."

Back in the console room, the Doctor is doing some more unnecessary repair work. Rose and I swan in and he turns off the sonic. "Aren't you going to change, Doctor?" Rose asks. No compliments, then.

"I've changed my jumper! Come on!" He jumps out of the space beneath the controls. "You, stay there!" Rose says as he heads for the door. "You've done this before, both of you. This is mine!" She hurries towards the door and opens it. She looks out onto the 1860 street before cautiously walking out. The Doctor and I follow her. "Ready for this?" I ask. She smiles as reassurance and holds out both of her arms to each of us. We link arms. "Here we go!" The Doctor says. "History!"

Sneed and Gwyneth arrive outside the theatre. "She's in there, sir," Gwyneth tells her master, "I'm certain of it." They alight from the hearse.

The Doctor is buying a newspaper. He unfolds it and scans it. "I got the flight a bit wrong," He tells us.

"I don't care," Rose replies.

"It's not 1860, it's 1869."

"I don't care."

"And it's not Naples."

"I don't care!"

"It's Cardiff." Rose suddenly stops walking. "Right..."

"What's wrong with Cardiff?" I ask her. "Is it like New Zealand for the Aussies?"

Dickens is in the theatre, talking to a rapt audience. "Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing particular about the knocker on the door of this house. But let any man explain to me if he can, how it happened, that Scrooge, having his lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without it's undergoing any intermediate process of change, not a knocker- but Marley's face!" The whole audience gasped. "Marley's face! It looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look. It looked like..." The gas started to escape from the old woman. Dickens, seeing as how he is the only one facing the audience, is the only one to notice. "Oh my lord! It looked, like that!" He points a trembling finger at the old woman. "What in phantasmagoria is this?" The woman has risen in her seat. She lets out a long, loud wail. The audience scream and trample each other in their hurry to get away.

Suddenly we hear screaming. The Doctor grins maniacally. "That's more like it!" He tosses the newspaper over his shoulder and runs in the direction of the screaming. Rose and I just laugh at him before running after him.

The occupants of the theatre are running away as we try and enter. We finally get inside the theatre and watch the gas zoom around. "Fantastic!" The Doctor says. The last of the gas leaves the old woman's mouth and she slumps back in the chair, just a dead body once more. The Doctor and I approach Dickens. Oh, my, god... "Did you see where it came from?" He asks.

"Ah. The wag reveals himself, does he? I trust you're satisfied, sir!" The Doctor looks slightly taken back.

"Oi! Leave her alone!" Rose screams and heads for the dude that I can't remember his name, and the ancestor of Gwen! Awesomeness! "Doctor, I'll get them!" Oh, yeah, at the moment they're bad guys and Rose is going to be taken by them. Bummer. "Be careful!" The Doctor screams. We jump up onto the stage. Well, really he jumps up, I just sit on the edge of the stage and pull myself up. "Did it say anything? Could it speak? I'm the Doctor, and this is Summer by the way."

"Doctor? You look more like a navy!"

"What's wrong with this jumper?"

Gwyneth and Sneed have successfully loaded the body into the back of the hearse before Rose catches up with them. "What're you doing?" She asks.

"Oh, it's such a tragedy, miss. Don't worry yourself, me and the master will deal with it. The fact is, this poor lady's been taken with the brain fever and we have to get her to the infirmary." Rose pushes Gwyneth aside and feels the old woman's forehead. "She's cold... she's dead! My God, what did you do to her?" Sneed approaches her silently from behind and clamps a tissue full of a drug to her mouth. She struggles for a few seconds, and then goes limp. "What did you do that for?" Gwyneth asks, completely shocked.

"She's seen too much. Get her in the hearse!" Gwyneth bends down and picks up Rose's legs while Sneed holds her head.

The gas dives into one of the gas lamps and disappears. "Gas!" The Doctor says. "It's made of gas!"

"Took you a long time to figure that out!" I say. I pull on his jacket. "C'mon!"

By the time the Doctor and I come down the steps of the theatre, Gwyneth has just finished pushing Rose's head out of sight into the hearse. She slams the door shut. "Rose!" The Doctor screams. We run towards the hearse with Dickens following us. And yes, I've forgotten his first name. Drink to that. "You're not escaping me, sir! What do you know about that hobgoblin, hmm?" The hearse drives away. "Projection on glass, I suppose. Who put you up to it?"

"Yeah, mate, not now, thanks." The Doctor spots a coach and runs towards it, shouting to the driver. We jump in. "Oi, you, follow that hearse!"

"You can't do that sir!"

"Why not?"

"Why not? I'll give you a very good reason why not! This is my coach!"

"Well, get in then!" He pulls Dickens in and I get squished to one side of the coach. "Move!" He says to the driver. The coach rumbles off. "Everything in order, Mr. Dickens?" The driver asks.

"No! It is not!"

"What did he say?" God, it's taken him a long time to realise who it is.

"Let me say this first. I'm not without a sense of humour-"

"Dickens?"

"Yes."

"The Charles Dickens?"

"Shall I remove them, sir?" The driver asks.

"Charles Dickens! You're brilliant, you are! Completely one hundred percent brilliant! I've read 'em all! Great Expectations, Oliver Twist and what's the other one, the one with the ghost?"

"A Christmas Carol?" Yeah, think he'd remember that...

"No, no, no, the one with the trains... The Signal Man, that's it, terrifying!" Dickens looks pleased. "The best short story ever written! You're a genius!"

"You want me of them, sir?"

"Er, no, I think he can stay."

"Honestly, Charles, can I call you Charles? I'm such a big fan." Oops. Love this bit. "...what? A what?"

"Sorry, sir," I say, putting an accent on, "The master is a bit drunk today, he was drinking at midday." Hope I didn't sound like an idiot. The Doctor just ignores me and says, "Fan! Number one fan! That's me!"

"How exactly are you a fan? In what way do you resemble a means of keeping oneself cool?"

"No, it means 'Fanatic', devoted to. Mind you, I've gotta say, that American bit in Martin Chuzzlewit, what was that about? Was that just paddling or what? I mean, it's rubbish, that bit." Dickens turns away and looks at the window. "I thought you said you were my fan."

"Ah well, if you can't take criticism, go on, do the death of Little Nell, it cracks me up." What? Weirdo Doctor coming on... "No, sorry, come on, faster!"

Gwyneth and Sneed have one end each of Rose. "The poor girl's still alive, sir!" Gwyneth exclaims. "What're we going to do with her?" They settle her down on a table that is evidently used for dead bodies. "I don't know! I didn't plan any of this, did I? Isn't my fault if the dead won't stay dead."

"Then whose fault is it, sir? Why is this happening to us?" They leave the room, shutting and locking Rose in. Unnoticed to both of them, the gas lamp flickers. "I did the Bishop a favour," Sneed says. "Once. Made his nephew look like a cherub. Even though he'd been a fortnight in the weir. Perhaps he'll do us an exorcism on the cheap." There is a knock on the door. They both look up, alarmed. "Say I'm not in. Tell them we're closed. Just- just get rid of them!"

In the other room, Rose wakes up. She looks slightly out of sorts, and does not notice when the gas from the lamps fills the corpse of Redpath. He sits up suddenly.

Dickens knocks on the door and the ancestor of Gwen opens it. "I'm sorry, sir, we're closed."

"Nonsense!" Dickens screams. "Since when did an undertaker keep office hours? The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master!"

"He's not in, sir." She makes to shut the door, but Dickens forces it open again. "Don't lie to me, child!"

"I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Dickens, but the master's indisposed!" Behind her, a gas lamp flares up. "Having trouble with your gas?" The Doctor asks.

"What the Shakespeare is going on?"

Rose suddenly notices the corpse behind her. She jumps in alarm as he starts making zombie noise at her. "Are you all right? You're kidding me, yeah? You're just kidding." He climbs out of the coffin. "You are, you're kidding me, aren't ya?" He takes staggering steps towards her. "Okay, not kidding." She runs to the door and tries to open it.

The Doctor forces his way in and presses his ear to the wall. "You're not allowed inside, sir!"

"There's something inside the walls. The gas pipes. Something's living inside the gas!"

Rose backs against the door. The old woman's body rises from the other coffin and Rose gasps. She lobs a vase at Redpath. It does nothing but cause him to stumble slightly. Rose rattles the handle frantically. "Let me out! Open the door!"

We hear screaming that's sounds like Rose. "That's her." The Doctor and I say at the same time. We run off, following the screams. We charge past the old man. "This is my house!" He screams.

"Let me out! Somebody, open the door! Open the door!" We hear the muffled screams and the Doctor finds a door and kicks it in. "Let her go." He says and he releases Rose from Redpath's grip.

"It's a prank? It must be. We're under some mesmeric influence!" Dickens says.

"No, we're not." I say. "Look. The dead are walking. Hi, Rose!"

"Hi! Who's your friend?"

"Charles Dickens!" I say.

"Oh. Okay."

"My name's the Doctor," The Doctor says to the dead people. "Who are you, then? What do you want?"

"We're failing. Open the rift, we're dying. Trapped in this form, cannot sustain. Help us!" Both corpses raise their heads to the ceiling. The blue gas leaves them with a wailing sound and both corpses fall to the floor.

Gwyneth is making drinks while Rose is having a go at Sneed. "First of all you drug me, then you kidnap me, and don't think I didn't feel your hands having a quick wander, you dirty old man!" I snigger at this. "I won't be spoken to like this!" Sneed says.

"Then you stuck me in a room full of zombies!" Rose continues, ignoring Sneed. "And if that ain't enough, you swan off! And leave me to die! So come on, talk!"

"It's not my fault, it's this house! It always had a reputation. Haunted. But I never had much bother until a few months back. And then the stiffs... the, er, dear departed started getting restless."

"Tommyrot!" Dickens says. I look over at him from my comfy armchair. "You witnessed it!" Sneed says. "Can't keep the beggars down, sir! They walk, and it's the queerest thing that they hand on to scraps..." I zone out of the conversation as Gwyneth comes towards me. She hands me my tea. "Hot Chocolate, just the way you like it, maam." So she is psychic. Huh.

"One old fella who used to be a sexton almost walked into his own memorial service! Just like the old lady going to your performance, sir. Just as she planned."

"Morbid fancy," Dickens says, denying everything.

"Oh, Charles, you were there," The Doctor says, exasperation in his voice.

"I saw nothing but an illusion."

"If you're going to deny it, don't waste my time. Just shut up!" Dickens is stunned. The Doctor turns to Sneed. "What about the gas?"

"That's new, sir, never seen anything like that."

"Mean it's getting stronger, the rift's getting wider and something's sneaking through."

"What's the rift?" Rose asks.

"A weak point in time and space." I explain. "The connection between this place and another. It's still in Cardiff in your time. That's the cause of ghost stories, most of the time." The Doctor looks at me, puzzled. I think I might just shut up now...

"That's how I got the house so cheap," Sneed says, with revelation. "Stories going back generations. Echoes in the dark. Queer songs in the air and this feeling like a... shadow. Passing over your soul. Mind you, truth be told, it's been good for business. Just what people expect from a gloomy old trade like mine!" I laugh at that.

Dickens, wandering the corridors alone, examines the gas lamps. "Impossible!" He walks into the room where Rose was locked up and takes the lid off Redpath's coffin, where Redpath is lying peacefully, his arms crossed across his chest. He waves his hands in front of his face, shakes him a bit, and fumbles around underneath the coffin, all the time oblivious to the Doctor watching him with his arms folded in the doorway. "Checking for strings?" The Doctor asks. Dickens jumps in fright. "Wires, perhaps? There must be some mechanism behind this fraud." The Doctor unfolds his arms and walks over to Dickens. "Oh, come on, Charles. All right. I shouldn't have told you to shut up." He places a hand on Dickens shoulder. "I'm sorry. But you've got one of the best minds in the world. You saw those gas creatures!"

"I cannot accept that." Dickens says. Even though he wants to believe it, he doesn't want people knowing that he doesn't know everything. Not exactly good for business. "And what does the human body do when it decomposes?" The Doctor asks him. "It breaks down and produces gas. Perfect home for these gas things, they can slip inside and use it as a vehicle. Just like your driver and his coach."

"Stop it! Can it be, that I have the world entirely wrong?"

"Not wrong. There's just more to learn."

"I've always railed against the fantasies. Oh, I loved an illusion as much as the next man, revelled in them, that's what they were. Illusions! The real world is something else. I dedicated myself to that. Injustices. Great social causes. I hoped that I was a force for good. Now you tell me that the real world is a realm of spectres and jack o' lanterns, in which case, have I wasted my brief span here, Doctor? Has it all been for nothing?"

Gwyneth is lighting another gas lamp when I come in and start washing up. "Please miss!" Gwyneth protests. "You shouldn't be helping! It's not right!"

"Don't be daft. Sneed works you to death. Except don't except it to be good washing, Mum always made me do it millions of times because there was always a few stains left. How much do you get paid?"

"Eight pound a year miss."

"Wow!" I say, playing along as if I come from Victorian London. "That much? That's a lot!"

"I know. I would've been happy with six!"

"Did Sneed send you to school?" I don't know why I'm asking these questions. It's not like I don't know the answers. "Of course he did. What do you think I am? An urchin? I went every Sunday. Nice and proper."

"What, once a week?" I say, the question just popping out.

"We did sums and everything. To be honest, I hated every second."

"Me too!" We both laugh. "Don't tell anyone," Gwyneth says, whispering and talking like what she did is outrageous. "But one week, I didn't go and ran to the heath on my own!"

"I did plenty of that. I used to go down to the shops with my mate Leona. And we used to go and look at boys!" Gwyneth stops laughing at once and looks scandalised. "Well, I don't know much about that, miss." She turns back to the washing up.

"Come on! I do come from Australia, but things aren't that different! I bet you've done the same."

"I don't think so miss."

"Gwyneth! You can tell me! Bet you've got your eye on someone."

"I suppose, there is one lad... the butcher's boy. He comes by every Tuesday. Such a lovely smile on him!"

"Oh, I like a nice smile. There was one guy who would charm all the girls with his smile." Again, Gwyneth looks shocked. "Well, I have never heard the like!" I just laugh, then Gwyneth laughs too. "Ask him out!" I say. "Give him a cup of tea or something, that's a start."

"I swear, it's the strangest thing, miss. You've got all the clothes and the breeding but you talk like some sort of wild thing!" I shrug at that. "I have been for a long time. Bad influences and stuff. But, you need a bit more in your life than Mr. Sneed."

"Ah, now that's not fair. He's not so bad, old Sneed. He was very kind to me to take me in. because I lost my mum and dad to the flu when I was twelve."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Thank you, miss. But I'll be with them again. One day. Sitting with them in paradise. I should be so blessed. They're waiting for me. Maybe your family's up there waiting for you too, miss."

"Maybe." I nod, then realise. How did she know that. "Um, how did you find out they were dead?" Gwyneth realises what she has said and turns quickly back to the washing up. "I don't know, must've been the Doctor."

"I didn't tell him, only Rose..."

"You've been thinking about them lately, more than ever."

"I suppose so... how do you know all this?"

"Mr Sneed says I think too much," She says, pointing to her forehead. "I'm all alone down here. I bet you've got dozens of servants, haven't you miss?"

"No, no servants where I'm from."

"And you've come such a long way."

"Yeah, all the way from good old Sydney..."

"I've seen Sydney in drawings, but never like that." She stares at me intently. "All those people rushing about. Half naked, such strange clothing, for shame. And the noise... and the metal boxes racing past... and the birds in the sky... they're metal as well. Metal birds with people in them. People flying. And the boats! And the trains, they're grey and so full of people. And you, you've travelled so far, further than anyone! The things you've seen... the darkness... the fictionfire... the never ending life-" She suddenly staggers backwards, afraid. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, miss!"

"It's alright..." How did she know about the fictionfire?

"I can't help it. Ever since I was a little girl. My mum said I had the sight. She told me to hide it!"

"But it's getting stronger, more powerful, is that right?" Gwyneth and I both jump as we turn to see the Doctor standing in the doorway. "All the time, sir. Every night. Voices in my head."

"You grew up on top of the rift. You're part of it. You're the key."

"I've tried to make sense of it, sir. Consulted with spiritualists, table wrappers, all sorts."

"Well, that should help. You can show us what to do."

"What to do where, sir?"

"We're going to have a séance." Oh, no...

This is a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad idea. Why are we doing this? "This is how Madam Mortlock summons those from the Land of Mists," Gwyneth explains. "Come. We must join hands."

"I can't take part in this," Dickens says and stands up from his chair.

"Humbug? Come on, open mind."

"This is precisely the sort of cheap mummery I try to un-mask. Séances? Nothing but luminous tambourines and a squeeze box concealed between the knees. This girl knows nothing?"

"Now, don't antagonise her. I love a happy medium."

"I can't believe you just said that," I mumble. He grins at me. "Come on, we might need you." Dickens sits down. "Good man. Now, Gwyneth. Reach out."

"Speak to us. Are you there? Spirits? Come. Speak to us that we may relieve your burden." She raises her eyes to the ceiling. A murmuring fills the room. "Can you hear that?" Rose asks the room.

"Nothing can happen!" Dickens says. "This is sheer folly!"

"Look at her!" I say.

"I feel them. I feel them!" The gas creatures begin to fill the room. "What're they saying?" Rose asks.

"They can't get through the rift," The Doctor says. "Gwyneth, it's not controlling you, you're controlling it. Now look deep. Allow them through."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can. Just believe it. I have faith in you, Gwyneth." Gwyneth looks almost pained. Then suddenly, she lowers her head and opens her eyes. "Yes." Three gaseous figures appear behind her. Dickens' mouth drops open. "Great God!" Sneed says. "Spirits from the other side!"

"The other side of the universe."

"Pity us." The Gelth and Gwyneth say. "Pity the Gelth. There is so little time, help us."

"What do you want to do?"

"The rift. Take the girl to the rift. Make the bridge."

"What for?"

"We are so very few. The last of our kind. We face extinction."

"Why, what happened?"

"Once we had a physical form like you. But then the war came."

"War?" Dickens asks. "What war?"

"The Time War." Rose and I look at the Doctor but he looks away. "The whole universe convulsed. The Time War raged invisible to smaller species but devastating to higher forms. Our bodies wasted away. We're trapped in the gaseous state."

"So that's why you need the corpses." The Doctor says.

"We want to stand tall. To feel the sunlight. To live again. We need a physical form, and your dead are abandoned. They're going to waste, give them to us!"

"But we can't!" Rose says.

"Why not?" The Doctor asks.

"It's not... I mean, it's not..."

"Not decent? Not polite? It could save their lives."

"But it could be a trap?" We stare at each other for a moment.

"Open the rift," The Gelth and Gwyneth butt in. "Let the Gelth through. We're dying. Help us. Pity the Gelth!" They disappear and Gwyneth collapses forwards onto the table. Rose and I get up immediately and go to her. "Gwyneth!" I scream.

"All true." Dickens says. "It's all true." The Doctor remains silent.

I'm mopping Gwyneth's forehead as she lies asleep on a lounge. Slowly, her eyes open and she fidgets. "It's alright," I say, "Don't try to get up, just rest for a while.

"But my angels, miss. They came, didn't they? They need me?"

"They do need you, Gwyneth. You're they're only chance of survival." I turn around to see the Doctor just behind me, leaning against the wall.

"I've told you," Rose says, "Leave her alone." They've been at this for a while. Sometimes I help Rose fight him, but I know it's not going to be any use. "She's exhausted and she's not fighting your battles." The Doctor leans back and sighs. I pick up a glass of water from a bench nearby. "Drink this," I tell Gwyneth, who takes it and sips some of it.

"Well, what did you say, Doctor?" Sneed says. "Explain it again. What are they?"

"Aliens," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Like... foreigners, you mean?"

"Pretty foreign, yeah. From up there." He points skywards. "Brecon?" Sneed asks.

"Close. They've been trying to get through from Brecon to Cardiff but the road's blocked. Only a few can get through and even then they're weak. They can only test drive the bodies for so long, then they have to revert to gas and hide in the pipes."

"Which is why they need the girl," Dickens says, speaking for the first time in a hour.

"They're not having her!" Rose defends.

"But she can help. Living on the rift, she's become part of it, she can open it up, make a bridge, and let them through."

"Incredible!" Dickens says, getting up from his armchair. "Ghosts that are not ghosts but beings from another world who can only exist in our world by inhabiting cadavers."

"Good system. It might work." The Doctor says. That's done it for Rose. She gets up from sitting on the floor and walks over to the Doctor. "You can't let them run around inside dead people!"

"Why not? It's like recycling."

"Seriously though, you can't."

"Seriously though, I can!"

"It's just... wrong! Those bodies were living people! We should respect them even in death!"

"Do you carry a donor card?"

"That's different, that's-"

"It is different, yeah. It's different morality. Get used to it or go home." Rose falls silent and the Doc sees that he's gone to far. "You heard what they said, time's short. I can't worry about a few corpses when the last of the Gelth could be dying."

"I don't care, they're not using her."

"Don't I get a say, miss?" Gwyneth says. Both Rose and the Doctor turn around to look at her. "Look," Rose starts. "You don't understand what's going on."

"You would say that miss. Because that's very clear inside your head, that you think I'm stupid."

"That's not fair!"

"It's true, though. Things might be very different where you're from. But here and now, I know my own mind. And the angels need me." She turns away from Rose and looks directly at the Doctor. "Doctor, what do I have to do?"

"You don't have to do anything."

"Please, don't Gwyneth." I say. I saved Jabe, so I can save her. She just ignores me and goes on. "They've been singing to me since I was a child. Sent by my mum on a holy mission. So tell me." The Doctor smiles at her. "We need to find the rift." He turns around and walks towards Sneed. "This house is on a weak spot, so there must be a spot that's weaker than any other. Mr Sneed, what's the weakest part of this house? The place where most of the ghosts have been seen?"

"That would be the morgue."

"No chance you were gonna say 'gazebo', was there?" Rose says. We all turn heads towards her.

This is a bad idea.

The key turns in the morgue door, and we all walk in, lead by the Doctor. "Talk about Bleak House," he says. I never get what he says.

"The thing is Doctor, the Gelth don't succeed. 'Cause I know they don't. I know for a fact there weren't corpses walking around in 1869." Rose says, standing near the Doctor.

"Time's in flux. It's changing every second. Your cozy little world could be rewritten like that." He clicks his fingers. "Nothing is safe. Remember that. Nothing." Nice.

"Doctor," Dickens says. "I think the room is getting colder."

"Here they come," I say. "Get ready." The Gelth flood into the room. Their leader positions itself in an archway. It has the voice of a child. That will soon change. "You have come to help! Praise the Doctor! Praise him!"

"Promise you won't hurt her!" Rose says.

"Like that will work," I say under my breath so no one will hear me. "Hurry! Please. So little time. Pity the Gelth."

"I'll take you somewhere else after the transfer," The Doctor says. "Somewhere you can build proper bodies. This isn't a permanent solutions, alright?"

"My angels. I can help them live," Oh, Gwyneth, they don't care about you!

"Okay, where's the weak point?"

"Here, beneath the arch." Gwyneth positions herself beneath the arch. "Beneath the arch," she echoes. I rush to her. "Please don't do this." I say. She places her hands on my cheeks. They've already gone cold. "My angels." Suddenly, she stands back and I stagger backwards. "Establish the bridge," The Gelth say, "Reach out of the void, let us through!"

"Yes! I can see you! I can see you! Come!"

"Bridgehead establishing."

"Come! Come to me! Come to this world, poor lost souls!"

"It is begun! The bridge is made!" Gwyneth's mouth opens and the Gelth pour out of it. "She has given herself to the Gelth!"

"There's rather a lot of them, eh?" Dickens says.

"Too much..." I add. The Doctor just glares at me. "The bridge is open. We descend!" The figure of the Gelth become red and demonic. "The Gelth will come through in force!" The air becomes colder.

"You said you were few in number!" Dickens says.

"A few billion. And all of us in need of corpses." The bodies in the morgue rise, all sinister looking.

"Gwyneth... stop this!" Sneed says. "Listen to your master! This has gone far enough. Stop dabbling, child, leave these things alone! I beg of you-"

"Mr Sneed! Get back!" A corpse grabs Sneed from behind and holds him still while another of the Gelth fills his body through his mouth. The Doctor and Rose leap back from where they are standing. Sneed looks at us through blank, dead eyes. "I think it's gone a little bit wrong." The Doctor says.

"I have joined the legions of the Gelth. Come. March with us."

"No!" Dickens screams and runs for the door. The corpses advance on the Doctor, Rose and I. "We need bodies. All of you. Dead. The human race. Dead." They are backing us against a dungeon door. "Gwyneth!" The Doctor screams "Stop them! Send them back, now!"

"Four more bodies. Make them vessels for the Gelth."

"I- I can't!" Dickens screams from across the room. "I'm sorry!" The Doctor opens the door behind us and pushes us into the small room and slams the door shut again. "It's too much for me! I'm so-" He can't finish his sentence and runs from the morgue as one of the Gelth swoops at him. The corpses are clambering to get into the room we're in. "Give yourself to glory! Sacrifice your lifes for the Gelth!"

"I trusted you. I pitied you!"

"We don't want your pity! We want this world and all its flesh."

"Not while I'm alive."

"Then live no more."

Dickens has run from the morgue and rests panting against the front door of the house. The gaseous creatures swirl around the knocker, making it look exactly like the knocker from his story, A Christmas Carol and he runs again.

"But I can't die!" Rose's words bring me back to Earth. She looks at the Doctor for reassurance. "Tell me I can't! I haven't even been born yet. It's impossible for me to die! Isn't it?"

"I'm sorry."

Dickens has run from the house altogether. One of the Gelth has followed him. "Failing!" It screams and stops abruptly. "Atmosphere hostile!" The figure dives into a gas lamp. Dickens realises his mistake. "Gas!"

"But it's 1869, how can I die now?"

"Time isn't a straight line, it can twist into any shape. You can be born in the 20th century and die in the 19th and it's all my fault. I brought you here. Summer also."

"It's not your fault. I wanted to come." Touche.

"What about me? I saw the fall of Troy! World War Five! I pushed boxes at the Boston Tea Party, now I'm going to die in a dungeon! In Cardiff!"

"It's not just dying. We'll become one of them."

"Why have you given up?" I ask. "We're not going to die!"

Dickens rushes back into the house and begins to turn all the flames off the gas lamps, so that the gas is released into the air. Wheezing slightly, he covers his nose and mouth with a handkerchief.

"Sure, this looks bad, but don't give up. I reckon someone will save us."

"Yeah." I turn to the Doctor. "You believe me?"

"Yeah!" He grabs my hand. "I'm so glad I met you." I look up at him, surprised. "Me too." He smiles at me. At that moment, Dickens rushes into the room. "Doctor! Turn off the flame, turn up the gas!" He turns one on. "Now fill the room, all of it, now!"

"What're you doing?"

"Turn it all on! Gas the place!" He turns another on. "Brilliant. Gas!"

"What, so we choke to death instead?" Rose asks.

"Am I correct, Doctor? These creatures are gaseous!"

"Fill the room with gas, it'll draw them out of the host. Suck them into the air like poison from a wound!"

"See, we're not going to die," I say. The corpses all decide to turn on Dickens instead. "Well, he might."

"I hope... oh Lord. I hope that this theory will be validated." The corpses advance dangerously on him. "If not immediately."

"Plenty more!" The Doctor screams. He smashes a gas canister against the wall and all the creatures are sucked from the bodies with a scream. "It's working." Dickens says, in relief. The Doctor, Rose and I are free to come out of the dungeon. "Gwyneth!" The Doctor says. "Send them back! They lied, they're not angels."

"Liars." Gwyneth says simply.

"Look at me. If your mother and father could look down and see this, they'd tell you the same. They'd give you the strength. Now send them back!"

"Can't breathe," Rose chokes.

"Charles, get Rose and Summer out." For some reason, I'm not choking. Weird. Dickens grabs Rose's arm but she shakes him off. "I'm not leaving her."

"We have to leave or you will suffocate," I say.

"They're too strong." Gwyneth tells us.

"Remember that world you saw? Summer's world? All of those people, none of it will exist unless you send them back through the rift."

"I can't send them back," She replies firmly. "But I can hold them. Hold them in this place, hold them here. Get out." Her hand goes to her apron pocket and she takes out a box of matches. Dickens runs out but Rose rushes forwards. "You can't!"

"Leave this place!" Gwyneth calls. The Doctor grabs my shoulders. "Summer, take Rose and get out, go now." I nod. He turns to Rose. "I won't leave her while she's still in danger, now go!" We run out of the morgue. Dickens is at the door. "This way!" We run through the house and run outside. I run further away from Dickens and Rose, as I know what will happen. The whole house goes up in flames, just as the Doctor dives out of the doorway. Rose fixes him with a look that plainly asks why Gwyneth is not with him. "She didn't make it."

"I'm sorry. She closed the rift."

"At such a cost," Dickens says. "The poor child." Rose has not looked away from the Doctor. "I did try, Rose, but Gwyneth was already dead. She had been for at least five minutes."

"What do you mean?" Rose asks.

"I think she was dead from the minute she stood in that arch."

"But, she can't have, she spoke to us, she helped us, she saved us. How could she have done that?"

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Dickens says. We all turn to him. "Even for you, Doctor."

"She saved the world. A servant girl. No one will ever know."

We have all arrived back at the Tardis. "Right then, Charlie-boy, I've just got to go into my um... shed. Won't be long!" He fits the key into the lock. "What're you going to do now?" Rose asks Dickens.

"I shall take the mail coach back to London. Quite literally post-haste. This is no time for me to be on my own. I shall spend Christmas with my family and make amends to them. After all I've learned tonight, there can be nothing more viral."

"You've cheered up!" The Doctor says.

"Exceedingly! This morning, I thought I knew everything in the world and now I know I've just started! All these huge and wonderful notions, Doctor! I'm inspired. I must write about them!"

"Do you think that's wise?" Rose asks.

"I shall be subtle at first. The Mystery of Edwin Drood still lacks an ending. Perhaps the killer was not the boy's uncle. Perhaps he was not of this earth. The Mystery of Edwin Drood and the Blue Elementals. I can spread the word! Tell the truth!"

"Good idea!" I say.

"Good luck with it." The Doctor adds. "Nice to meet you." He shakes Dickens hand. "Fantastic." He turns back to the Tardis door.

"Bye then, and thanks," Rose says. She kisses him on the cheek. Dickens looks taken-aback. "Oh, my dear, how modern. Thank you, but, I don't understand, in what way is this goodbye? Where are you going?"

"You'll see. In the shed." He opens the door of the Tardis. "Oh, my soul. Doctor, it's one riddle after another with you. But after all these revelations, there's one mystery you still haven't explained. Answer me this, who are you?"

"Just a friend. Passing through."

"But you have such knowledge of future times. I don't wish to impose on you, but I must ask you. My books. Doctor, do they last?"

"Oh, yes!"

"For how long?"

"Forever!" Dickens tries to look pleased and modest at the same time. "Right. Shed. Come on, Summer, Rose..." We all turn to the door. "In- in the box?" Dickens asks. "All three of you?"

"Down boy. See ya!" We enter the Tardis and the Doctor shuts the door after us. "Doesn't that change history if he writes about blue ghosts?" Rose asks.

"In a weeks time it's 1870, and that's the year he dies. Sorry. He'll never get to tell his story." We all look at the screen where they can see Dickens is still standing outside. "Oh, no! He was so nice!"

"But in our time, he was already dead!" I say. "No one from our time never saw Dickens because he was already dead! But we get to bring him back. That's the brilliance of time travel." The Doctor hits a button and the engines rev up. We smile as we watch Dickens' face when the Tardis disappears before his eyes.