Chapter 4: "The Wrong Doctor"

Rose couldn't reply. All she could manage was open-mouthed gaping, punctuated by a few high-pitched gasps.

"No? I suppose I'll have to go and look for her—are you all right?" He slapped her several times on the back. "It's never a good sign when you go to a restaurant and someone is choking. I don't like this restaurant, anyway. Overpriced food, rubbish view. Don't you think the view is rubbish? It's supposed to make you contemplate the fragility of existence, but I think it's terribly depressing. Give me a nice sunset, maybe some mountains--"

"You're the wrong Doctor!" she shrieked.

"Not all the time." He grinned, wide and slightly frightening. "On the rare occasion, I'm right." He pulled a white paper bag from his jacket. "Jelly baby? You can't get them on the menu so I have to bring my own—"

"I was supposed to meet someone here! He sent me a note!"

"And so you have met someone here. Hello!" He pumped her unresisting hand up and down. "Let's see that note, then, shall we?"

Rose was, by this time, too disorientated to protest. She handed him the note. He unfolded it and read it several times.

Dear Rose,

Congratulations on finding the restaurant! It's on a node, so I shouldn't have too much difficulty getting there. I've a fair idea who you're with, so I feel it my duty to warn you: he's a tedious bore. Hope you don't mind if I crash your date.

The Doctor

Dear Doctor,

Enclosed please find your lost item. Try not to mislay her again. If Miss Tyler tires of your company (which, given what little I know about you, seems highly likely!) bring her back here, and I shall conduct her home.

The Doctor

"So," said the Doctor, "you must be Rose Tyler. You met one Doctor, then met a second Doctor. The second Doctor was to deliver you back to the first Doctor, but instead you met me, another Doctor. A Doctor would only discuss a node in relation to parallel universes. Therefore you know two Doctors, each in a separate parallel universe. Right?"

"Er..." said Rose.

"But what troubles me, what really troubles me is this, Rose: I shouldn't be able to read this note. What's more, I shouldn't be able to write on it, either."

He ferreted in his pockets, and after removing his sonic screwdriver, a yo-yo, several bags of jelly babies, and an odd contraption she couldn't immediately identify, he finally came up with a pencil. He scribbled a note, then held the paper up to her. "You see?"

She didn't have time to read the notes, but could clearly see three separate ones—all in the same handwriting. He folded the note again, and handed it to her. "Hang onto this, will you?"

Rose reached for the note and put it in her pocket; then suddenly she felt an odd lurching sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was hard to appreciate in the dim light, but for an instant, everything seemed to go double.

"Did you feel that, or was it just me?" said Rose, queasily.

"I don't know about you, but it's definitely me!" The Doctor's voice had changed. Rose turned and looked at him. The tall man with the curls and the long scarf had disappeared. In his place was a much younger man, fair-haired, who appeared to be dressed in cricketing gear. Inexplicably, there was a piece of celery pinned to his lapel.

Rose gaped at him, again speechless; but she recovered more quickly this time. "Who are you?"

His smile was open and warm, and lit up his boyish face. "I'm the Doctor. Er...have you seen Adric?"