Part 6
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"I have good news," John announced the following afternoon when he walked in through the door. "You, young Jenny, are going to get the chance to play with other children for a while."
"I do?" Jenny enthused. "Donna, I'm going to play!"
"I heard," Donna replied, holding in her own excitement. "Won't that be nice. When is this play session likely to happen?" she asked John.
"They said she can go along Monday afternoon."
"When is that?" Jenny aimed at Donna.
"Two days' time," she answered. "That's three sleeps away. Remember we did the days of the week not long ago. Today is Friday so tomorrow is?"
"Saturday," Jenny obediently responded, and was about to add Sunday being the day after when it struck her. Daddy didn't work those days. He would be home to play with. "And Daddy can stay with me."
"He should do," Donna hedged, glancing at him.
"I will do," he happily agreed, and joyously accepted Jenny grasping him. "Unless there is an emergency I need to deal with."
"There is also the small emergency matter of us needing some more food to eat," Donna pointed out.
"Oh yes," he agreed. "We have a shopping trip tomorrow. Are you up to helping us find precious resources, Jenny?"
"Yes!" she yelled.
Those soldier instincts were still peeping through Donna thought; and wondered what else would appear at some point.
The dreams started to plague him with a vengeance after he had announced their first shopping trip. It was as if his subconscious was determined to not leave him alone. Alone with loads of weird images of various creatures he strongly suspected were alien, he was bombarded by faces that told him they were once him. What sort of idiot thinks that sort of thing? He even didn't believe in a god, let alone reincarnation.
And what was all that about the wish-fulfilment dreams? Ones where he grunted his way through every type of sexual encounter. Well, when I say 'every' type, his sole main fetish was a ginger-haired woman rather than anything tawdry or racy; or plain illegal. Perhaps it was best to label them as rather vanilla in texture. Plus, sweaty. There was always lots of sweat.
Waking up after another erotic dream, and having to take another vigorous morning shower, helped make his mind partially up. He was going to say something, he decided. Yes, he was definitely going to go out into the kitchen, or wherever she was, and announce his feelings. Say something positive. Make her listen to him.
So, he did just that.
"What's up with you?" Donna inevitably asked when he strode into the kitchen soon afterwards looking all determined.
"I've been thinking," he announced. "We need to go out."
"You do? Thank goodness for that," she had surprisingly replied. "I was worried you'd forgotten. I'll get Jenny ready while you pick up the shopping list."
What! What had just happened? "The shopping list," he had futilely repeated.
"Yes," she retorted, obviously misunderstanding his confusion. "It's by the fridge. We'll need it if we are going to shop efficiently and avoid impulse buying. See you in a minute."
Now THIS was not what he had had in mind, but he resigned himself to the experience. "Bugger!" he muttered.
The bus journey had seen Jenny all agog as she tried to look out every single window at the passing view. Her eyes couldn't take all the information in, so she was excited about the return journey home too.
"Just pretend she isn't with us," Donna had advised a mortified John when Jenny had attempted to push a teenage lad away from his window seat.
John had apologised profusely, obviously, but it didn't take away the embarrassment of a curious toddler who was determined to see everything. Alas, it was not the end of his need to pretend to be elsewhere.
"Don't look at me, this was your idea to do this as an army exercise," Donna retorted that afternoon in a supermarket aisle.
"I thought it would keep her occupied," John defended himself. "The store even provided a map of where everything is, so I took that as a good omen."
So had she, but Donna wasn't going to admit it. "That's all well and good but how do we get her out of there?" The 'there' she was referring to was the stack of cardboard boxes kept underneath the checkout conveyor belt, left there for the use of customers who didn't want to use carrier bags. "She's set up camp."
"I know," he huffed. "Jenny, come out of there."
A small face briefly peeped out. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"There's an abbey tide nearby," Jenny hoarsely whispered.
"A what?" He looked to Donna to explain what his daughter might mean, but Donna to the side of him was desperately trying to see if any aliens were close without gaining recognition.
"Probably just a security guard," she pretended to dismiss Jenny's concern. "How about you come out of there and we make a quick getaway?"
"Come on, we'll pay for our shopping and head home," John suggested.
"You promise?"
He nodded tiredly. "I promise."
"I'll hold your hand just in case we need to run," Donna offered, and was relieved when Jenny reluctantly clambered out of her cardboard nest to take her hand.
She kept vigil while John paid, but bent low to quietly ask Jenny if she could sense any things that were too close. Having been told they were comparably safe; she quickly grabbed the last one of the carrier bags and led Jenny out of the supermarket. They almost made it to the bus stop too.
"Mr Smith! Is that you?" a female voice called out to them.
They all turned slowly and saw Joan Redfern bearing down on them, pushing a trolley full of items.
"It is you!" she happily declared. "I thought it was. What are you doing here?"
Duh! Try three guesses, Donna wanted to say, but instead she left any answer up to John to give, since the woman only seemed interested in him.
"Just been doing a spot of shopping," he genially replied. "This has been our first chance to get here since I started the job."
"It certainly looks like it," Joan commented, eyeing the five bags he was trying to hold, and the three bags Donna possessed. "Are you on the way back to your car?"
"We're going on a bus," Jenny proudly announced. It had been the highlight of her day.
"No car?" Joan aimed at John.
"Sadly no. But I intend to get one eventually," he felt he had to declare.
Joan beamed under the thought of her new plan. "Then let me offer you a lift home."
"Oh no, we couldn't impose."
"I insist," Joan stressed, and glanced at Jenny. "Your little one must be tired out."
"I thought I'd introduced you." John frowned. "This young madam is Jenny and this older m-" He gave an "Ooof!" as Donna surreptitiously elbowed him in the ribs. "…marvellous lady is Donna."
"Yes, we have met," Joan confirmed, hardly giving them more than a second of her attention. "So, what do you say, hm? I'll open up the boot for you."
"No double meaning there at all," Donna took delight in whispering to John as they followed towards Joan's car.
Of course, Joan made sure John took the front passenger seat beside her, with Donna and Jenny in the back, where she obviously felt they truly belonged because hardly a shred of conversation was aimed in their direction during the drive home. And she would get to know exactly where he lived, Donna realised as their journey progressed. Politeness dictated that they invite Joan in, offering at least a cup of tea as a reward for her kindness. Oh yes, no wonder Joan was acting as pleased as Punch.
"Blimey, I'm glad that's over with for a couple of days," Martha enthused when she entered the flat half an hour later. Immediately kicking off her shoes, she proclaimed, "My feet are killing me… and we seem to have a visitor."
"Ah yes, Martha." John stood up from his seat in order to offer her a fresh drink. "We were lucky enough to run into Joan at the supermarket, and she gave us a lift home with all our shopping."
"Did she?" Martha eyed the woman who had been sat next to him on the settee and forced herself to brightly say, "That was nice of her. And what an amazing coincidence."
"Wasn't it," Joan eagerly agreed. "It must have been fate."
Or a carefully devised plan, both Martha and Donna seemed to think at the same time. Not that John seemed to think it was fate too, judging by his sudden scowl.
"Anyway, sit yourself down, Martha, and I'll get your well deserved cup of tea," he softly ordered.
"Yes, us nurses definitely earn every penny," Joan put in. Don't sit next to me, please don't sit next to me, she silently begged Martha.
Her luck was in, because Martha wanted a better view of this show, and sat herself in the other armchair of the three-piece suite. From the other armchair, Donna sweetly smiled at her, whilst Jenny was on her lap, looking very tired after her day out, and desperate for a cuddle with her dad.
"You won't find me arguing with that one," Martha remarked to Joan before resuming her attention on her friends. "How did you enjoy shopping in the supermarket, Jenny?"
The child did little more than a tired shrug as some sort of an answer. "She found it a bit overwhelming," Donna commented instead. "And a little bit scary at the end."
"Don't want to go there again," Jenny petulantly stated.
"I'm afraid you might have to," John said, handing Martha a large mug full of hot tea. "We will definitely have to shop for food again next week."
"I could take you," Joan instantly offered. All eyes were suddenly on her. "You know, if you want to avoid taking Jenny and Donna needs to stay here instead. It would be no bother."
"Or I could go with John while they stay behind," Martha proposed.
"But you work so hard during the week," Joan countered. "You need to rest. And I'd save you all that expense of going on the bus. So, what do you say, John?"
Her bright smile was an argument all on its own, so he heard himself say, "Alright, if you're okay with that."
"Then we'll declare it done." And Joan triumphantly drank the end of her tea, oblivious to the scowls on the other women's faces.
"You've gone and done it now," Donna sing-songed at him.
John wondered, "What have I done?"
"Hark at him. Mr Oblivious," she noted to Martha. "Should we tell him?"
"Erm. I think we might have to," Martha replied. "Although, if he couldn't see that coming, we might have to stop him from driving in the future."
Now more agitated, he fretted, "What? What have I missed? Stop beating about the bush and just tell me!"
"Aw, isn't it a shame he still can't work it out."
"All those brains yet no room for more information."
"If you don't tell me right now, I shall…" Except John didn't know what punishment to offer that would actually be to his benefit.
"Are you getting annoyed about the lady, Daddy?" Jenny innocently asked.
"No. Yes," he amended his response when his companions' faces revealed he was closer to the truth. "It appears to be about Joan." Who would let on first? Now feeling desperate for information, he turned his puppy dog gaze onto Martha. "Please, tell me. I don't understand what I have done wrong."
"Of course you don't," snorted Donna. "Then again, you might like the fact you have just arranged several dates food shopping with her. Who am I to judge your taste in women?"
"They're not romantic dates," he blustered. "She merely offered to take me, as a friend."
"My, wasn't that generous of her, Martha?"
"Extremely generous, considering she hasn't known him long," Martha sarcastically agreed. "It's almost as if she has ulterior motives."
"Surely not," Donna pretended to counter, fluttering her eyelashes in a way that totally didn't affect him in the slightest. Not at all.
Anger flared in him. "All you two see is suspicious intentions. I'm sure this is all perfectly innocent and not because she has designs on my erm…" His voice faded away when he realised Jenny was watching him with interest. "Never you mind what it might be, because it isn't. We'll have no more talk of it."
Both women giggled when he stormed off, then exchanged a look of concern when Jenny worriedly murmured "Daddy?" and John blatantly ignored her. It just wasn't like him.
Donna quickly tried to comfort her with a hug, saying, "It's okay, Jenny. I'll go and see if I can fix this. You stay with Martha."
"Yes, come and show me your pictures you drew earlier," Martha requested as Donna made her way to the bedroom.
She found John sitting on his bed, staring at his feet, so she got down, sitting on her heels before him and placed a tender hand on his knee. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" she softly asked. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. If we had known you genuinely like Joan, we wouldn't have teased you so much."
Lifting his head, she got the full scorned puppy expression. "It isn't that, exactly," he sighed. "Joan seems nice, but I don't know if I like her enough to complain about the teasing. Am I being too sensitive?"
Yes. well, maybe. "No, of course not," she insisted. "You're tired and overwhelmed by everything being new. I can understand that."
"I'm not sure it's even that," he confessed. "It's…"
"If you want to tell me, I promise I'll listen," she vowed. "You can tell me anything and I'll support you."
"Oh Donna," he murmured, sucking in a breath. "There's an ache inside me. Does that sound daft?" He waited for her to shake her head. "I'm torn because I don't know if I should let Joan get close to me, when I need to feel something. Now don't get me wrong, I know I've got Jenny, you and Martha in my life, surrounding me in love. But it's all platonic and sometimes I just yearn for more."
The human side is taking over him, Donna suddenly thought. He could become like a normal hormonal giant gonad of a man if they weren't careful. This had to be handled carefully. And perhaps she would get Martha to check the Doctor's message when the TARDIS was next visited. Since this needed more information. Information like how the hell she was supposed to deal with this situation. Especially if Joan Redfern became an item in his life.
"Can I offer a hug in the meantime?" she suggested. "I know it would merely be that pesky 'platonic' you mentioned, but I assure you it can do some good."
A smile gradually returned to his face, and he opened his arms wide. "I thought you'd never offer," he pretended to grouch. "Here am I, a man in need, and you stayed down there on the floor."
"Well," she mumbled into his neck, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "sometimes you just need that little bit of encouragement."
She felt a grateful kiss being pressed onto her temple.
"I'll always encourage you," he readily swore, but only he knew his words had a double meaning.