After helping Storybrooke get rid of the Curse trigger, the Doctor and the Professor took Clara back to London to make a future for herself in Storybrooke. She enjoyed it there. The people were terrific, and Clara, of course, had a lovely boyfriend. When she got to the Maitland residence, she handed in her resignation and said she would only be there for two more weeks. During these two weeks, both the Professor and Doctor hopped daily, picking up Clara to take her on trips in space and time. Trips to places like Akhaten, 19th Century Yorkshire and Hedgewick's Amusement Park.

While on Clara's last day at the Maitlands, she decided to make a very special soufflé for the occasion. She wasn't that good at making soufflés, but she hoped it would be perfect on this day—her final day at the Maitland residence.

Angie, sitting at the kitchen table with her brother, Archie, turned around. "Oh, no. You're going to try and make a soufflé again, aren't you?" She complained.

"My mum's soufflé, yeah," Clara responded. "Although this time, I will get it right. This time I will be Soufflé Girl."

"How can it be your mum's soufflé if you're making it?" Archie questioned.

"Because, Artie, it's like my mum always said, "The soufflé isn't the soufflé. The soufflé is therecipe.""

"Was your mum deep on puddings?" Angie asked.

"She was a great woman," Clara said as she noticed an old looking envelope on the counter. She picked it up just as the Professor walked in to greet her.

He was going to help Clara pick up the rest of her items. "Hey," he said, kissing her cheek. "What do you have there?"

"Hey," she said. Her attention moved back to the envelope. "I don't know."

"Oh, it arrived today," Angie said. "It's for Clara."

Clara nodded slowly and went up to her room as she opened the letter and began to read it, with the Professor following her and reading over her shoulder:

"My dearest Clara. The Doctor entrusted me with your contact details in the event of an emergency, and I fear one has now arisen. Therefore, assumingthis letter will have reached you as planned, on April the 10th, 2013, please find and light the enclosed candle. It will release a soporific which will induce a trance state, enabling direct communication across the years."

The Professor looked at the candle and decided to get a fire-lighter from another room, with Clara still reading.

"However, as I realise you have no reason to trust this letter, I have taken the liberty of embedding the same soporific into the fabric of the paper you are now holding. Speak soon."

The Professor heard a soft thump and returned to the room, seeing Clara on the floor, unconscious. Knowing what it meant, he sat beside her and put her head in his lap.