Chapter Seven
The five months passed both more quickly and more slowly than Zoe hoped for.
The Doctor and Rose had left in the TARDIS the morning after Downing Street was turned to dust and rubble. Jackie had tried to get her daughter to stay for longer, including permanently – but that had been the source of such a stout and firm refusal that she had had to turn to something more likely. Eventually, the Doctor had lost what little patience Zoe had hammered into him with her mild rant that he seemed to be half-tempted to take off without Rose and so Rose had jumped into the TARDIS with a hiking bag stuffed full of clothes; she'd hugged her family and Mickey tightly before they were off.
"You'll like this." The Doctor had said to Zoe with a sparkle of amusement in his clear blue eyes and she'd half laughed in confusion before the TARDIS disappeared in a wheezing, groaning symphony that made her stumble back a little.
He was right.
She did like it.
With the benefit of a lifetime of experiencing dealing with Jackie Tyler, Zoe had wisely waited until the Doctor was safely off the surface of Earth when she broke the news to her mother that she would be joining Rose in the TARDIS after she took her A-Level exams. Jackie had been less than pleased. In hindsight, she probably should have waited until closer to the date to break the news to her mother as she had become the sole focus of a single-minded attack to get her to change her mind ever since.
The atmosphere in the flat had turned so oppressive and tense that Zoe had taken to spending nights on Mickey's sofa, or studying in the 24-hour library and sneaking back into the flat in the early hours of the morning, pretending she was still asleep when Jackie banged around in the kitchen in frustration.
"She'll get over it." Mickey promised late one night when Zoe had stomped up to his flat in a dark humour with a bottle of cheap wine she had bought from Stavros, who didn't care that she was underage as long as she wore a low enough neckline. "She's just having trouble letting go is all."
She scowled into her smudged pint glass because Mickey didn't seem to know that he could actually own wine glasses. "Everyone leaves home eventually."
"Yeah, but not to travel through time and space with an alien though, mate." He pointed out amidst the antiseptic smell from UNIT's cleaning team that still hadn't yet faded even weeks later. "'Sides, you're meant to be the sensible one."
She pulled a face at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Jackie got pregnant at eighteen." Mickey listed off. "Rose dropped out of school for Jimmy Stone. You've always been more focused. Figured you'd end up running the country one day, and I could tell people that I used to know you when you'd run around the estate in your nappy."
Zoe blushed, her skin darkening right up to the roots of her hair. She swirled her wine in her glass – it wasn't the best, it tasted like paint stripper, but it did its job. "I'm still going to do that. I just...I'm taking a gap year, is all. Like all them toffs do. Mine's just, y'know," she flapped her hand, "a bit further away than fucking Cambodia."
He laughed and tossed an arm over her shoulders. He smelt of wine and Lynx spray but she curled into his familiar warmth. "Like I said. Jackie'll get over it. Give her enough time to miss you and she'll be fine."
He kissed the top of her head and they settled back down to watch Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn fall in love in Rome.
At the very least, Jackie had eased up on her passive aggressive campaign when her exams started in May – she was invested in her daughter doing well, proud as she was that her youngest was getting her A-Levels when so few of her peers on the estate did.
Zoe actually enjoyed exams. She liked the way they measured what she knew and they gave her an accurate score back; she liked knowing if she was good at something or if she needed to improve. However, considering that her A-levels were fairly essential in securing her currently conditional place at UCL, she was a little panicked and anxious – even if she was planning to defer for a year or two (three at the most, she told herself). If she failed them, or she didn't get the AAB she needed for admittance, she would have to leave the TARDIS to take them again and she didn't want to do that. As such, she worked herself into the ground.
When she had decided to take five A-levels, it seemed like a good idea.
Rose had been missing for three months at that point and Zoe had been unable to sleep. She spent her nights tossing and turning with a sick feeling deep in her stomach that one day the police would knock on the door to the flat and give her and Jackie the news they didn't dare think about, but that which they worried about constantly. Taking a full course load had been a way to distract her from everything around her and no one seemed to think it a bad idea; she was a good student before Rose's disappearance and she became an excellent one after it as well, finding refuge in college from the creeping coldness of home. Now that she was on the other side and facing her exams with her sister accounted for, she began to regret her choice.
It was the night before her first exam when mother and daughter finally reached a truce. Zoe was sat cross legged on her bed in the bedroom that she no longer had to share with her sister, her back hunched over her study notes, pain beginning to stiffen along her spine. She felt as though she was going cross-eyed as she went over her notes for her French reading and writing exam in the morning.
"You'll do your back in readin' like that." Jackie said from the doorway and Zoe looked up, blinking the tiredness from her dry eyes. Her mother was dressed in her pyjamas and she held two cups of tea in her hands. She held one out like an olive branch of peace. "Here."
Zoe groaned as she sat up straight, her back stretching out and something popping; she took her favourite mug from her and drew it close to her chest. The warmth was welcome. "Thanks."
She shifted back and rested against the wall where her pillows were propped up. It was nice to have the room to herself without feeling guilty about enjoying the space now that she knew her sister wasn't rotting at the bottom of a canal somewhere. She sipped her tea and opened her eyes when she felt her mattress dip beneath Jackie's weight. Wary tension slipped through her body and her fingers tightened reflexively on her mug.
"How's it goin'?" Jackie asked, absently picking through the revision notes that were spread out whilst taking care not to disturb the order.
"Good, I think." She said, trying to work the stiffness out of her neck. It gave a satisfying pop. "I'll be glad when it's over."
Jackie huffed a small smile as she looked at her daughter's notes that were splayed with colour to catch the eye and keep the attention. "Always wondered why you chose French."
"Figured it might be useful." She replied with a small shrug.
The truth was that the ten minutes she had had with a careers counsellor in her last year at secondary school had suggested that businesses liked people who could speak another language and the desire to leave the estate had led her to choosing French, simply because she was already studying it – she'd simply been in the half of the year that was assigned French instead of German. Whatever helped her get off the estate quicker, she would do, even if it meant struggling with conjugations and words that had more vowels that they could feasibly use. It wasn't that she didn't like French, she just thought it could be simplified – she should have studied Spanish; at least the pronunciation and spelling were easier than French but it was too late to change her mind now.
Besides, she did enjoy speaking it when she got the opportunity, which wasn't often admittedly.
Jackie hummed in her throat and looked at her youngest daughter, eyes wet behind her mascara. "I'm really proud of you, Zoe."
Unexpected tears suddenly burned at her eyes. "Really?"
"Course I am." She said, reaching out for her. Zoe grasped her tea-warmed hand. "Nobody in the family's got their A-levels. You're goin' to be the first."
"If I pass them." She said, uncertainty sweeping through her because what if she failed? What if she wasn't as clever as she hoped she was. People like her weren't successful. Her entire life had shown her that.
"You will." Jackie said without hesitation. "You're the smartest person I know. You know all sorts of things I don't."
"You're smart too, mum." She said, sitting forwards and squeezing her hand. "Really smart. Just 'cos you don't have A-levels doesn't mean you're not."
Jackie brushed away her words. "You know...I don't think I've ever been prouder than when you got into university." Her smile stretched across her face. "All five wanted my baby."
She blushed. "Mum."
"'Ere." Jackie said. "Shift over."
It took a while as Zoe had to gather her revision material and push them to one side whilst keeping the order and then she had to juggle her tea. Eventually, mother and daughter sat side by side, legs stretched out in front of them, thighs pressed together. They felt the absence of Rose as she normally bracketed Jackie on the other side. Zoe's stomach gave a twist at the thought of leaving her alone. She gulped her tea to squash down the nausea, only succeeding in burning her throat.
"It was hard on you," Jackie said in the quiet surroundings of the pink bedroom that Zoe had always hated but never dared to paint over because of Rose. "The last year."
"It was hard on both of us." She pointed out.
It wasn't something they spoke about now that Rose was back.
They didn't speak about the fear and the pain and the nights they spent crying into their pillows in the hope the other one didn't hear them. They didn't speak about how Zoe had got so drunk one night at a party that she had to have her stomach pumped and how they had a screaming fight in the middle of the street on the way back from the hospital; they just didn't speak about it. They had packed up the missing posters and taken them to the recycling point and just gone about their lives as though they hadn't believed Rose dead for a year.
"Do you really have to go with him?" Jackie asked and Zoe stared down into her tea. "Sweetheart, it's so dangerous."
"I know." She whispered before clearing her throat. "I was there in Downing Street. I know how dangerous it is."
"Then why?" Jackie asked desperately. "Why are you goin' when you've got so much to look forward to here?"
She raised her head to look at her mother. "How can I not go?"
"I don't understand."
"Five months ago," she began, "I learnt that we're not alone. That the universe is teaming with life. And the Doctor offered to show it to me. He's offered me all of time and space, right at my fingertips. How can anyone say no to that?"
"But, sweetheart –"
"Mum." Zoe interrupted. "If you don't want me to go...if you really don't want me to go. Then ask me, and –" her voice wavered. "And I won't go." Relief flooded Jackie's face. "But, please. I'm asking you to please not ask me to stay. Mum. Please. Don't ask me to stay."
She brushed away the tears that threatened to slip down her face. Jackie tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She wanted to ask. She wanted to keep at least one daughter safe from the Doctor's life but Zoe had always been so sensible. Even as a child she had been more of a small adult than a child, so serious and quiet and thoughtful, so well-behaved and well-mannered, trotting along behind them all the time, eager to help and eager to be kind. She never asked for anything – not even at Christmas when Rose's letter to Santa would be three or four pages long even though she knew she wouldn't get it all. Zoe's was just a couple of lines – chocolate cake and a book. Every year, without fail, that was all she wanted.
And now she was asking for something.
Not telling, but asking, and Jackie wished that she was strong enough to say no in the face of her daughter's barely repressed emotion, but she wasn't.
"You just..." Jackie started, voice thick with tears. "You just promise me one thing."
Zoe sniffed and wiped her eyes with the collar of her shirt. "Anything."
"You promise me that you'll go to university." Jackie said because she wanted her to do that, she wanted Zoe to do what no one on the estate had done. "You won't let the Doctor distract you from that."
Her face lit up. "I promise. Mum, I promise."
"Well, okay then." Jackie said, bowing to the inevitable. "But you make him bring you home more often. I'm not waiting until it pleases his lordship to come back. At least once a month."
"I think I can handle that." She grinned, setting down her tea before flinging her arms around her mother and hugging her tightly, face pressed in her dyed blonde hair. "Thank you, mum. Thank you so much."
Jackie hugged her back, feeling better than she had in months, wishing they had spoken about it sooner. She kissed her daughter's mass of curls. "Now. Lights out, I think. You've done enough studyin' for one day."
"But –"
"You won't do any good if you're tired." Jackie pointed out and Zoe grumbled and complained but she allowed her mother the victory. Jackie bent over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
"G'night, mum." She said as tiredness crept into her. "Love you."
For the next four weeks, Zoe thought about nothing except her exams.
Her life was limited to studying, doing practice exams, eating, sleeping, and, twice a week, going to work at McDonald's where she had worked ever since she turned sixteen and was old enough to get a job. Jackie suggested that she give the job up since she'd be leaving soon enough and her exams were taking up her time but Zoe actually enjoyed going into work and having six hours off twice a week when she could let her mind slip into autopilot and simply go through the motions. As strange as it seemed, she always felt relaxed after her shifts, and more refreshed than before.
She left each exam with a feeling of deep uncertainty over whether or not she had answered the questions correctly but she distracted herself by diving straight into the next subject to revise. She felt that she fumbled her way through her French oral, and that she might have confused one of the Plantegenet kings with a Tudor king by mistake in her history exam but she couldn't remember if she had or not no matter how much she tried. She was fairly certain she calculated something wrong on her maths paper and the less said about her biology exam the better, but she didn't think the mistakes were too damaging although she couldn't be sure.
With each exam that passed, the tension in her body started to drip away. What was done was done. Even if she had the TARDIS, she doubted she could cross into her own personal time stream to change the past. Every science fiction show told her that doing something like that would create a paradox, and she did watch City on the Edge of Forever to make sure. Although, the Doctor had been somewhat dismissive of using science fiction as a basis for understanding the TARDIS so maybe she was wrong.
She jotted the question down in her small A5 notebook underneath the list of other questions she wanted to ask the Doctor before tucking it away.
After months of studying, and four weeks of intensive revision study, her last exam finally arrived at the end of June. The day was bright and warm and she walked to her college whilst nervously fiddling with the strap on her bag as she went through everything one last time, her mouth dry and her skin tight. She entered the exam centre and loitered in the corner against one white wall, muttering to herself as she tried to make sure she hadn't missed anything even though it was too late to do anything about it.
Finally, it was time.
Her last exam was English Literature, a subject she'd chosen because she liked books; she sat down at her marked desk and fiddled with her pens, pencils, and rubbers as the exam papers were handed out. She watched the clock tick closer and closer to the starting time until finally, she could start. She opened the sharp, clean paper with its exam smell, and looked at the first question.
Read the passage from Othello, provided below, and respond to the following:
How does Shakespeare present aspects of love in this passage?
Examine the view that, in this passage and elsewhere in the play, 'as wives, Emilia and Desdemona have much in common.'
She took a deep breath and started to work.
For one hour and thirty minutes, she worked through the questions in the paper, transitioning from analysing Shakespeare to analysing poetry. She took care to check her answers thoroughly, correcting any spelling mistakes and reworking sentences so that her points were stronger, and she set her pen down five minutes before the end. When the time expired, she leaned back in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief, grinning up at the tiled ceiling.
After the exam, she joined her friends for a celebratory drink at the nearest bar.
The drink turned into an all-night celebration and Zoe, not normally known for her social life, ended up stumbling home at four in the morning, waking Jackie up when she tripped over her own feet and face-planted the ground. Laughing, Jackie scooped her daughter up from the ground and deposited her in the bathroom; whilst the sound of retching filled the flat, she made her some dry toast and a cup of tea. Zoe eventually shuffled out looking as though she had been dragged through a hedge backwards and Jackie wished that she had a camera to hand.
When Zoe woke up in the late afternoon, her hangover sent her diving back beneath the covers where she groaned, feeling sorry for herself.
Her mother's laughter did not help.
When Zoe eventually recovered from her hangover, a process which included lying prone on the sofa, wrapped up in her duvet, watching afternoon TV that, happily, included Murder, She Wrote, Jackie surprised her with a gift.
"What's this then?" She asked the next morning as they sat together in the sun-bright kitchen where the remnants of their full English breakfast littered the table between them. Jackie passed the plain white envelope across the table to her, Zoe written in her mother's open handwriting.
Jackie rolled her eyes, lips curving upwards fondly. "Just open it, you plum."
She worked her little finger carefully under the seam of the enveloped and pried it open, jerking her finger along, leaving ragged paper mountains in her wake. She slipped her fingers inside and pulled out a generic card from down the post office. She discarded the torn envelope next to her cup of tea that was sending soft heat up into the air. It was a congratulations card and she grinned at it, delighted at the thoughtfulness and the colourful balloons that decorated the front that were held by a grinning orangutan.
She opened the card and something fell out.
It nearly dropped into her beans but her forearm caught it at the last minute, knocking the trajectory of it into her lap. She set the card down to look at in a few moments and plucked the paper object from her lap – not money, and not a cheque. She turned it over in her hands and it took her a seconds to realise what she was holding. It was two tickets for a return journey on the Eurostar – destination: Paris, France. Even after she realised what she held in her hands, it took another few moments to realise what it actually meant. Her head snapped up so fast that her neck cracked and she gaped at Jackie, who was looking very pleased with herself.
"Mum!" She exclaimed.
"I know you're off to see the universe with himself soon enough," Jackie started through a smile, "but I figured me and you could do somethin' first."
"Mum, you can't afford this." She protested, torn between delight at the prospect of a weekend trip to Paris and guilt that her mother might have spent more money than she could reasonably afford on such a thing.
Family holidays had never been a thing in the Tyler family. They visited their grandparents in Essex but then Granddad Prentice had died and Grandma Prentice preferred to come into London as an excuse to get out of the small retirement flat she lived in, and the Tyler grandparents had died when Zoe was little. Rose had once gone on a trip to France but that had ended with her being sent home early due to an unauthorised expedition to Marseilles with Shareen, but Jackie hadn't had a stable job when Zoe was at school and school trips were on offer. Her hours had been cut at the hairdressers and the dole didn't exactly cover trips abroad.
"Yes, I can." Jackie replied. "I've been savin' ever since you started college. Just a little bit, here and there, when I could, but I was always goin' to give it to you."
Zoe's face was suffused with happiness and excitement. She clutched the gift to her chest and stared at her mother.
"And we get to go together?" She asked hopefully.
Jackie nodded.
Zoe let out a sound that she didn't know she was capable of making. She jumped up from her chair and fell over the table in her eagerness to wrap her mother in a hug. Jackie laughed at her enthusiasm, pleased right through to her bones that her daughter liked the gift as much as she hoped she would, and she nearly tipped back off her chair under the force of Zoe's hug. It wasn't much, the gift, nothing like she wanted to be able to give her, but a weekend in Paris, just the two of them, seemed like a nice way to spend their last weekend together before she went off in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Rose.
"When do we leave?" Zoe asked when she finally pulled back after nearly strangling her with her enthusiasm.
"Tomorrow morning." She said, picking up her tea with hands that trembled from happiness and relief. "So you might want to pack. I'll dig out the passports."
Zoe turned where she stood, excited. "This is brilliant, mum. Really brilliant. Thank you!"
Over three days, Zoe and Jackie explored Paris.
Mickey had given them a lift to St Pancras on the morning of their departure with a promise to pick them up on their way back and they had hopped onto their scheduled Eurostar, Zoe buzzing with excitement at leaving the country for the first time. The furthest from London she had ever been was a trip to Bristol as part of a mathematics competition that she had been part of. She had commandeered Mickey's laptop after Jackie had given her her gift and had Googled everything that she wanted to do. She had the list of things written neatly down in her notebook that was tucked securely in her bag next to her passport and French phrasebook, which Jackie had protested about because you speak French, you nutter.
It took about three hours to get to Paris and by the time they arrived, Zoe was climbing the walls with excitement. She grabbed Jackie's hand and pulled her from the train, doubling back when she realised that she had forgotten their bags in her excitement. She bounced up and down on her toes as they moved with the crowd of people that pushed towards the exit, business people and tourists alike. She wondered whether, one day, she would be among the crowd of business people arriving in the city for work. Her stomach knotted with hopeful excitement, liking the image it created in her mind.
When they exited the Gare du Nord, she stopped and stared up at the bright blue sky that was brushed lightly with white clouds. She then looked down at the ground beneath her feet and she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, turning to grin at Jackie who was watching her with an air of bemusement.
"I'm in another country!"
"Yeah, you are." Jackie replied, before reaching out and tugging her out of the way. "You're also in the way."
"Oops!"
They stopped off at their hotel, which was a little out of the way but cheaper than staying right in the centre of Paris. It gave Zoe the opportunity to speak French to an actual French person for the first time, which she had never done before, and she finished the conversation, pleased that she hadn't embarrassed herself too badly, although the receptionist seemed patiently amused with her. As soon as Jackie was ready, Zoe dragged her back out onto the streets of Paris, babbling away at a hundred miles an hour about the history of France and what she hoped to see and how they needed to try a canalé. Jackie just followed along, happy that her daughter was happy, and ready to follow her lead in whatever she wanted to do during their three days in Paris. They walked around the city, exploring the historic walks and streets that wove through the old quarter, and they stopped for lunch at a café along the river.
"Well, I can't read this." Jackie said as she stared at the menu. She set it down and looked at Zoe whose curly head was bowed over the menu. That familiar feeling of regret at knowing that she would soon leave tugged at her. "You order for me."
Zoe looked up. "Yeah?"
"Just no snails."
She laughed and ordered them both a Caesar salad. Jackie took the opportunity to rest her feet before they were off again, visiting the catacombs beneath the city. The stacked skulls peered out at them from the dim gloom and Zoe whispered the translation of the tour guide into Jackie's ear as they walked along with their tour group. Jackie thought it was strange, and disrespectful, to disturb the dead just so that they could free up space in cemeteries. It made more sense to find a way to dispose of the newly dead rather than disturbing the long dead. She also tried to avoid touching the skulls, although she noted that Zoe looked around surreptitiously before she extended a slim finger and poked one. When she noticed that her mother was watching, she just grinned sheepishly.
After the catacombs, Zoe bundled them onto the last tour bus of the day, pressing Euros into the ticket sellers hand, and pulling Jackie onto the open top deck. It was much more preferable to tour the city by bus in Jackie's opinion as her feet had the opportunity to rest and Zoe was pressed up against her side, still and calm for once as she listened to the recorded tour guide through headphones in French. Watching the city pass slowly by as night began to fall and it lit up like a thousand sparkling fireflies erupting into life, Jackie believed she could only feel happier if Rose was there with them.
Although Zoe wanted to continue exploring, Jackie was able to persuade her that they should sit down and eat dinner. They went to a cheerful bistro not far from where the tour bus dropped them off and Zoe accidentally engaged the old man sitting next to them in conversation to such an extent that the man joined them for dinner. Although Jackie spoke no French, she was happy to sit back and watch as her daughter spoke quickly and confidently in the language with the old man who seemed charmed by her. Watching them converse, and looking at how happy Zoe seemed, Jackie knew that she had made the right decision to save for the trip and to bring her there.
Her daughter was intelligent and kind but she was very shy sometimes, and she could be very introverted. If something frightened her, she could retreat into herself. She wasn't like Rose who threw herself into situations without a second thought. Zoe had to think things through and sometimes she overthought them to such an extent that she missed the opportunity to do it. She also wasn't as confident as Rose. Zoe always seemed to second guess herself, believing that she wasn't good enough. Jackie hoped she hadn't contributed to that feeling but it was hard to tell with her; but seeing her sitting in a bistro in France, talking and laughing in French, was like looking into the future.
Jackie was proud.
After a delicious meal that was generously paid for by the old man that Zoe had charmed, despite protestations on both of their parts, they decided to take a lazy walk back to their hotel. They fell asleep easily that night in their shared room and Jackie wished that she had slept longer because Zoe woke her up at 8am the next morning with a cup of tea and a croissant that she had bought from the bakery down the street. Zoe waited as patiently as she could before eventually she lost her patience and threatened to drag Jackie out onto the street without her make-up on because the daylight would start to fade.
They passed under the Arc de Triomphe and then walked down the Champs-Elysée to the Tuileries Garden. They strolled through it, talking, laughing, and taking pictures on one of the many disposable cameras they had bought with them. Zoe planned to get them developed and put them into a photo album she would take with her on the TARDIS when the Doctor arrived to collect her. After lunch, they went to the one place that Zoe had been most eager to visit out of everything in Paris.
The Louvre.
Rose was the artist in the family. Her talent with a pencil and paint was unrivalled and it was a shame that she hadn't had the opportunity to develop it further due to Jimmy Stone and then a minimum wage job to pay off the debt he had left her with. However, while Rose was the artist, Zoe appreciated art and she liked the history of it. She had wanted to study History of Art for A-level but it hadn't fit in with her plan and so she had let it slip from between her fingers. Once or twice a year though, she would visit the various galleries in London in order to stare at the pictures and learn the history behind the paint.
"It's a bit ugly, innit?" Jackie said as they approached the iconic glass pyramid that stood in front of the Louvre, beckoning people towards it.
Zoe just laughed and linked arms with her.
The pyramid sparkled and gleamed under the sun as they walked past it, the creation towering over them and sending warm waves off heat off of it. The building itself was once a palace in the 14th century but, before that, when it was first built, it stood as a fortress and the architecture represented both uses. The practicalities of a fortress in its open, rectangular layout, but the rich ornateness of the aristocracy with its elegant facade and sleek turrets. She couldn't help but wonder what it was like when it had been first built and a wave of pure, unadulterated excitement hit her when she realised that she would actually be able to visit in.
She dug around for her "Doctor notebook" and jotted the idea down in the back under a list of places and time periods that she wanted to visit, if he was open to suggestions
They entered the museum through the Richelieu Wing and, after a bit of back and forth over the best way to explore the museum, they decided to take the Welcome to the Louvre tour in French. Zoe protested that Jackie wouldn't be able to understand but she wasn't that interested in the history of the paintings, and anything that was interesting, Zoe could tell her.
"We're in France, sweetheart." Jackie pointed out. "You might as well use your French."
To see the pictures and sculptures that she had only heard about and seen in books and on the Internet was amazing. The Mona Lisa was brilliant in person, as was the Venus de Milo, and the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Jackie seemed to appreciate the visual aspect even if she didn't care for the history behind it. Towards the end of the tour, Jackie wondered away from the group while Zoe wondered if she'd be able to take a picture in front of the pictures when her mother was at her side, hissing at her to follow her. Slipping away from the group was easy and Jackie led her across the room to a framed picture hanging on the wall in front of them.
"Oh my god." Zoe said, mouth dropping open as she stared up at a beautifully painted picture of a person who could only be –
"That's you." Jackie hissed in her ear, eyes darting about wildly.
Before knowing about time travel, neither of them would have even considered for a single, split second that the woman in the painting could possibly be Zoe. They would have laughed and marvelled over the resemblance but they wouldn't have thought it was possible. However, with the Doctor barrelling into their lives in his bluer than blue time machine, anything was possible.
Anything including a picture of Zoe Tyler hanging in the Louvre.
Except, it wasn't Zoe as she had ever looked before.
The picture, Mon cherí, had been painted around 1759 by Madame de Pompadour, the uncrowned queen of France. It showed Zoe in a beautiful red dress that brought out the colour of her skin. Her hair was long and curly, thick and uncontrollable around her face, and the curls fell across her forehead. She seemed to be sat on a bench outside but it was hard to tell as the background was deliberately blurred as though it had been painted through a haze of memories. Madame de Pompadour had captured a relaxed, curious expression on Zoe's face and brought out the warm orange-red undertones of her skin.
She looked beautiful.
"Why are you in a painting?" Jackie asked in her ear as though Zoe knew but she could only shrug helplessly, fingers twitching to her bag to find her phone but she quelled the emotion. It was unlikely the Doctor would have any explanation either.
"I suppose I'm going to visit France in the 18th century at some point and sit for a painting." Zoe said although, even as the words left her mouth, the ridiculousness of them wrapped around her.
She was talking about time travel as though she it was something normal to her.
"That's bonkers." Her mother said, shaking her head. "Because that's you."
"Yeah, that's me, alright." Zoe agreed, a little numb around the edges.
"What's it mean?" Jackie asked, leaning to look at the title and butchering the pronunciation. "Mon – cherí?"
She pronounced cherí as cherry.
"My darling." She translated. Hold on."
She swept quickly across the gallery and abruptly interrupted the loquacious tour guide to ask a question. "Excuse me, I'm sorry. Can you tell me about a picture over here?"
The tour guide seemed surprised, mouth open around a word, but he nodded and followed her across the room to the painting, the group coming with him like ducklings following their mother. Standing in front of the painting, everyone understood her interest in it. The resemblance was striking as they were one in the same person but, for the others, it was just an unusual quirk of fate. Murmurs of interest arose and they all turned to the tour guide, who examined the painting and then Zoe with great interest, shaking his head in amazement.
"The resemblance is very strange." The tour guide, Jean-Pierre, murmured.
"Yes, it is." Zoe agreed with an edge of impatience to her voice that she tried to quell, wrapping her mouth around the French language. "But can you tell me about this woman? Who is she?"
"Nobody is sure." Jean-Pierre answered. "There are a number of theories. One, this woman was a lover of Madame de Pompadour. Look at the lack of jewellery. It was unusual for a woman this way to be without jewellery, except between close friends, or in love. Two, she was the daughter of Louis XIV. Three, and the one I think most likely, she was the product of a dream ."
Zoe nodded, biting back on the questions she had that she knew he couldn't answer. "And the title? My darling? What does that mean?"
"Ah, yes, it's why I think this woman was a dream." Jean-Pierre replied, tapping his lip thoughtfully. "My darling. It is said that in the last years of her life Madame de Pompadour believed herself to be involved in a relationship with a woman that, historical documents show, never existed. Many believe that she experienced hallucinations and had trouble distinguishing fact from reality. This woman was most likely the product of an imagiation fevered by illness."
Or not, Zoe thought to herself and she thanked the tour guide before taking Jackie's arm and walking away from the painting as quickly as she could.
They left the Louvre and stepped out into the early evening sun. It felt strange to move from the window that looked into her future to her present where none of that had happened yet. She had to sit down and couldn't find a bench so she just sat down on the cool ground and rested her head between her knees, fingers knotted over the back of her neck. She heard movement and then Jackie grunted as she joined her daughter on the floor, a familiar and comforting hand stroking through her hair, pressing against her scalp and Zoe felt the tight tension that had gripped her drain from her body.
She peeked up at her mother.
"The guide said that the woman in the painting was either the object of a dream, the illegitimate daughter of the King of France, or..." Zoe hesitated. "Madame de Pompadour's lover."
Jackie blinked. "Well, you're definitely not the daughter of a king."
"And it wasn't a dream." She said. "I'm obviously going to meet Madame de Pompadour at some point in the future."
"You don't have to have sex with her though." Jackie pointed out and Zoe stared at her before she started laughing, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting her.
"No," She said between her laughter, "I suppose I don't."
"This is mad." Her mother started to grin.
"Completely bonkers." She agreed.
They made the mistake of catching each others eye and they burst into laughter again, startling the other tourists around them who gave the two mad, laughing women on the ground a wide berth.
