Chapter 7

In a modest, red brick town house, near the sea front in Newhaven, Alice DiMaggio sat on a comfortable armchair in a living room that was typical of of someone who was of retirement age. The furnishings were contemporary, and the photograph on the mantelpiece was of a couple in their sixties.

'Thank you for agreeing to see me Mrs Mcleod,' Alice said as she accepted a cup of tea.

'Oh don't be silly dear. I relish the chance to have a bit of company these days since Derek passed away . . . and please, call me Liz.'

'Okay Liz. Was Derek your husband?' Alice asked, looking to the photograph and the smiling man with his arm around Liz.

'Yes. Forty two years we were married,' Liz said with a far away look in her eyes.

'You must miss him.'

'Yes, but life goes on,' Liz said whimsically. Anyway, you said on the phone that you wanted to discuss an adoption I was involved in?'

'Yes, that's right. It's a bit of a long shot, it was fourteen years ago.'

'Oh, right. Well that'll test the old grey cells,' Liz said with a laugh. 'Do you have a name?'

'Erica and Lloyd Knight, and the child was named Adam.'

Liz frowned in thought. 'There have been so many over the years. It's difficult to recall each individual case.'

'I knew it was a long shot, but this one was a little unusual. The adoption records say that the initial contact was made by an intermediary . . . a young woman friend of the mother.'

'Was the mother foreign by any chance?' Liz asked. 'Eastern European?'

'The records don't specify. I presumed she was British as the adoption was in this country. I have a name of Isabella Hough. I suppose if you spell the surname with two "f"s, then that could be European. Why do you ask?'

'Well, there was this one mother, vivid green eyes she had. Like emeralds. Very particular about who would adopt her son.'

Alice consulted her tablet PC. 'Erica said something similar. "She wasn't so much giving her baby away, as entrusting him into our care".'

'Yes, that was it. There were rich couples, professionals, couples with aspirations. But she chose an ordinary couple with ordinary jobs in an ordinary house on an ordinary street.'

'Lloyd Knight has worked in the same laboratory, in the same hospital for years, with no apparent desire to move.'

Liz smiled at the memory. 'Settled and contented. That's what she wanted, settled and contented rather than rich and ambitious.'

'It sounds like the woman I'm looking for. Why did she use an intermediary, was there a language problem?'

'I don't think so. She had an unusual accent, but spoke and understood English. There was something about her. Nothing that made her stand out from the crowd, but . . .'

'A sad nobility?' Alice ventured. 'And a sad, haunted look in her eyes?'

'How did you know?'

'That was how Erica Knight described her. The intermediary, can you remember anything about her?'

'Oh, it was a good few years ago now my dear. I remember she was young . . . a teenager. What was her name? Linda? Lizzie?'

Alice put the two names together, and realised that she had heard the name connected to this enquiry. 'Would it have been Lyndsey?'

Liz thought about it. 'You know, it could have been, yes . . . Yes, now I think about it, it was. Lyndsey.'


Rose laughed as she watched John having some father and son time with Jason on the rug. She took on the role of the announcer. 'And Jason the Argonaut has the Doctor on the mat . . . or the rug. Can he pin him down for the count of three? One . . . two . . .'

John lifted his arm vertically in the air. Jason chuckled and wrapped his arms around his father's, trying to force it back down. John pretended to be overcome by superior strength. At this point, Ricky the Cyberdog decided he wanted to join the fun, and climbed onto John's abdomen.

'Hey, I didn't know it was a tag match,' he laughed.

'One . . . two . . . three. And the Argonaut wins,' Rose declared. 'The new, undisputed, baby weight champion of the world. And the crowd go wild.'

Donna-The-House played the sound of an arena cheering through her speakers before announcing that lunch was ready.

'Ooh, what have we got?' John asked.

'Ploughman's style sandwiches on crusty bread, with a selection of cheeses and pickles. How's that sound?' her voice asked from the ceiling.

'Very "pub lunch",' John said with a laugh and picked up his son to tickle him.

Sitting at the dining room table, Rose bit into her crusty bread roll, and then fed a spoonful of pureed food to Jason in his high chair.

'So, I wonder what it could have been that triggered the attack at the Tower?' Rose asked as she swallowed her ploughman's.

"And at the mansion" John thought to himself. 'We may never know,' he replied as he took another bite. 'Or . . .' he started. Did he really want to worry his wife with this thought.

But the thought had already occurred to Rose. 'Or, it could happen again tomorrow when we go back in.'

'Ah, so you'd already spotted that possibility.'

'Yeah, kinda hard to miss when you are worryin' about it on all channels. John, we can't live our lives lookin' over our shoulders.'

'I know. What have I always told you? Knowledge about your future is dangerous.'

'So what can we do about it?'

'After lunch, we'll go to your office and log on to the Torchwood server and review all of today's reports . . .'

'. . . And see if we can find a hidden threat,' Rose finished for him.

'Exactly!'


Alice pushed the doorbell to the side of the Knight family's front door, and it gently "bonged" the chimes of Big Ben. Erica Knight opened the door and looked at first concerned, and then hid her concern with a welcoming smile.

'Hello again Alice. Is there a problem? Have you some news about Adam?'

Alice smiled and raised her hands in a placating gesture. 'No, It's fine Erica. I'm still building a profile of Adam's psyche, and to help me do that, it would be useful to talk to some of the people he interacts with. He mentioned a girl, what was her name? Lyndsey?'

'Oh yes, Lyndsey. That's a good idea.'

'Do you know where she lives by any chance?'

'I'm afraid I don't. In fact, I don't even know her surname. All I know is that she is in the same year as Adam. Maybe the school would be able to help you. Although the school is closed to pupils today, I believe the teachers are there doing training.'

'Are they. Maybe I'll give them a try then. Thank you for your help.'

'No, thank you for your help. None of the other psychologists seemed to go to this much trouble. It's nice to know that Adam has finally found someone who may be able to help him.'

'Oh I really hope I can help him Erica,' Alice said. "I really do," she thought to herself.

Alice drove down the driveway of the high school, and parked in the large car park in front of a modern, red brick, two story building. It was surrounded by fields and trees, and was very pleasant, Alice thought.

She went through the front entrance and found the secretary's office just to the left of the main doors, where there was a reception window.

A woman looked up from her desk, smiled and went to the window, sliding it open. 'Hello. Can I help you? I'm afraid the school is closed today for teacher training.'

Alice held up her Torchwood I.D. 'My name is Alice DiMaggio. I'm a psychologist from the Torchwood Institute, and I'm conducting a psychological assessment of one of the pupils here. I know I don't have an appointment, but I was wondering if the headmaster could give me ten minutes of his time . . . if it's not too much trouble.'

The school secretary seemed a little irritated by this unexpected intrusion to what was supposed to be a quiet day. 'I'll call his office and see if he's available.'

'That's very kind. Thank you,' Alice said with a charming smile.

David Grainger was a large, friendly man, who was obviously used to speaking to people and putting them at their ease. A useful skill for a headmaster who would have to talk to parents, governors and official inspectors Alice thought.

'So Miss DiMaggio, how can I help you? We have a few students here who have special needs. Which one in particular are you interested in?'

'Please, call me Alice. And can I just say thank you for agreeing to see me without an appointment, I know how important training is to maintain standards. The pupil I'm assessing is Adam Knight.'

'Adam . . . Really?' Grainger said in surprise. 'I wouldn't have considered him a problem. A bit withdrawn and lacking social skills, but he's bright and always performs well in his academic studies.'

'Yes, I know there is nothing wrong with his intellect, but it's his lack of social skills that his parents are concerned about. They are worried that it may lead to depression and mental illness. I mean, many geniuses in the past have lacked the social skills they needed to help them integrate into normal society. With my help, I think I can teach him those skills.'

'Well, I'm all for that Alice. What can I do to help?'

'Well. Apparently, he has recently become friends with a young girl called Lyndsey. I'm afraid I don't know her surname, but if I could speak to her, she could help Adam with those social skills.'

'Good idea. Hang on, I'll get the secretary to check the register. Maybe we could set up a meeting for you one of the days this week.'

Ten minutes later, Grainger returned with a puzzled frown on his face. 'You say this Lindsey is in year nine, the same as Adam?'

'Yes. Her mother was certain of it. Why, is there a problem?'

Grainger scratched his head. 'Well, you could say that. You see, there is no Lyndsey in year nine. Lots of "Emilys", "Madisons", "Haileys", and "Hannahs". We tend to see trends in popular names, depending on which celebrities are in the media at the time. But there is no Lyndsey.'

'Oh,' Alice said in surprise. 'Maybe it was year eight then, or year ten.'

'Yeah, I thought that, so I checked. Whoever this Lyndsey is, she isn't at this school in year eight, nine, or ten.'


The screen on Rose's computer was a dark blue background, with a white 'T' made of hexagons in a white box. To the right of the small box were the name and the words:

TORCHWOOD

secure_extranet: log in.

/TORCHWOOD HUB/NODE: 01.

In the active window were the words:

TORCHWOOD SECURE LOGON

Enter Username And Password:

Rose entered here username and current password.

Status: Live/Examining security protocols_

Connected:_TW_01.0_Canary_Wharf_

Data Logged_Authorisation_ by_Jack_Harkness_

'Okay, let's access the Watch's mission reports and see what's been happening,' Rose said as she typed in the commands.

'Actually, check the Green Watch reports from last night as well. They may have encountered something dangerous or brought in an artefact,' John suggested.

'Good point.'

She accessed the reports and John put on his "brainy" specs to speed read the pages. He was able to read whole pages at a glance.

'Hah! That's a good one. A chap found some Cyberman parts left over from 2007 and tried to assemble them in his garden shed.'

'Seriously? What an idiot. Doesn't he remember how dangerous they were?'

John gave a single laugh as he read the next part of the report. 'He told the police he wanted to build a home help for his wife, but they suspect he wanted it to malfunction and kill her for the recently purchased life insurance.'

'That sounds like a plot from a T.V drama . . . Anything else?'

'The usual unidentified flying objects that Green Watch have now identified. Assisting the police at a scene of crime . . . and that's it.'

'Okay. Let's try Blue Watch and see what they've been up to today.'

'It looks like the Watch have had a quiet shift so far,' John told her. 'Jake and Julia went out to Stansted to interview a couple of pilots.'

Rose started to read the second report. 'Angel and Andre went to the National Archive to get some information for Alice . . . I wonder what that's all about?'

'Follow the link to Psychology, see what Alice's report says,' John suggested. 'Oh, now this is more like it. A fourteen year old boy who doesn't know he's an alien.'

'Oh yeah. I could make up all sorts of conspiracy theories about that,' Rose told him.

'Yeah,' John said distractedly. He was remembering the view of the alternate timeline from the TARDIS, and how he'd been looking at a pair of high tech specs. They hadn't been brought in overnight or this morning, and he knew they weren't in the archive, because they had recently performed a stock take.

He doubted they had anything to do with the attacks, because they wouldn't have been at the Tyler Mansion when the timeline changed again. No, the attacks had something to do with him or Rose, as they were the only two constants in both timelines.

'I wonder how stayin' at home has prevented an attack on Torchwood?'

'That, my wife,' John said, kissing her on the lips. 'Is a very good question.'


Alice Dimaggio walked out of the school entrance and headed towards her car. As she approached, she noticed there was a figure leaning against the radiator grill of the Torchwood Range Rover, wearing jeans and a hoodie pulled up over their head.

She hesitated and stood still, wondering if she should go back into the school. There was no one about in the car park, and she felt quite vulnerable and exposed. The figure however, made the decision for her.

'Alice Dimaggio?' the figure called out. It was the voice of a young woman.

Alice wasn't a Special Operations Field Agent, and was under no illusion that if this stranger attacked her, she wouldn't stand a chance. But Alice was a criminal psychologist who was very good at her job. It didn't take a genius to work out who the stranger was, who had told her she was here, and for what purpose.

'You must be Adam's friend Lyndsey.'

The figure pushed off from the radiator grill and lowered the hood to reveal a teenage girl with a shock of red hair and emerald eyes.

'Oh, I'm more than his friend,' the girl said mysteriously.

'Hmm, I bet you are. You age well, I'll give you that,' Alice replied.

Lyndsey looked stunned. 'Pardon me?'

'Well, you were a teenage girl, fourteen years ago when Adam was adopted. You don't seem to have aged a day.'

'You don't understand,' Lyndsey told her, ignoring the comment about her age. 'Adam is in danger, and you need to stop asking questions.'

'In danger how?' Alice asked.

'If you continue to ask questions, then it won't only be Adam who will be in danger. We are so close now. Please, stop asking questions.' Lyndsey turned and jogged away across the car park.

'What is so close?' Alice called to Lyndsey's retreating back.

She frowned as Lyndsey ran towards the perimeter fence of the school grounds, and then gasped as she cleared the two metre high fence in a single bound.