Chapter Four

Only two minutes later I was running as fast as I could out of the box, blindly searching for the nearest clear space in which to fall on my knees and relieve the churning sensation in my midsection. After I was done, I took a moment to survey my surroundings.

Cardiff.

We were in bloody Cardiff.

The nausea of the trip – bumpy, jerky, rocky, and whatever other way you can think of to describe such a journey – flooded back, magnified by the shock of being in Cardiff just a couple of minutes after seeing London. On the verge of an even larger fit of hysteria, I threw up again.

Since when was Cardiff two minutes way from London? Since when did aliens use terrorist stunts as cover for their presence? Since when were bloody police boxes not only bigger on the inside than the outside, but bloody-freaking-spaceships as well?

"Here," I heard the Doctor say. I opened my eyes to see his hand in front of my face, a peculiar blue and yellow tablet lying in the proffered palm.

Seeing the wary look on my face, he chuckled and said while a smile, "Don't worry. It's alien, but I'm not trying to poison you or anything. It'll make you feel better, I promise."

I eyed the pill for a few seconds more, then snatched it up and gulped it down dry before I had a chance to change my mind. To my surprise, the tablet melted into smooth syrup upon immediate contact with my tongue, sliding down my throat with silken ease. Right away I felt my insides quiet down and settle back into their regular routine. There was nothing about the pill that tasted medical, I noted – in fact, there was something sweet and warm and comforting about the flavour…

"Blueberry muffin," supplied the Doctor, pulling me to my feet. "Peristalsis Regulator Pill," he added by way of explanation. "Your digestive system's in shock from everything that's been happening, so your nerves don't know when and where to send signals and therefo– "

I glared up at him when I was on my feet, and as soon as my boots were squarely settled I gave his arm a good solid whack.

"Oi!" he exclaimed.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, and since I'm feeling up to strenuous physical activity, you'd better be quick about it!" I threatened.

"Since when did I have to explain anything to you?" he demanded in turn, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

"Since you invited me along, that's when!"

"You invited yourself!"

"You agreed and admitted you wanted me along!"

He considered this for a moment and then relaxed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Well, aren't you going to start?" I asked, being sure to smooth over my rough tone.

The Doctor smiled. "Not here in the opened," he explained, offering me his arm. "To lunch?"

"Alright." Arm in arm, we headed off to find the nearest chip shop.

Not only did the Doctor's pill cure nausea, it also restored my appetite. I was absolutely ravenous by the time we found a place to eat ten minutes later – a bustling little place tucked away in a sunny corner – and procured a table. Once settled, the Doctor told me to save it while he got the food.

"Oh, and…" He held out his hand expectantly.

"What?"

"I haven't got any money," he explained.

"You asked me to lunch," I said.

He just waved his fingers, as if to say, "Oh, come on, Connie. Don't be difficult."

With a huff, I dug a tenner out of my pocket and slapped it in his waiting palm. "And don't spend it all!" I called out after him, but I smiled at his retreating back.

Within ten minutes he was back with two greasy newspaper bundles, which we tore open and dove into with the ravenous manner of people who hadn't seen food for weeks. Three bites in, I realised with no small amount of horror that I had lost James in the kerfuffle of the explosion.

It had only taken food to remind me, I chastised myself as I fished my mobile out of my pocket. I dialled frantically as the Doctor looked on, ignoring his questioning gaze as I put the phone up to my ear and prayed that James would pick up his phone.

I got his voicemail and let out an exasperated sigh. As soon as I heard the beep, I said quickly, "James, hey, it's Connie. Listen, call me back as soon as you get this. It's really, really important. I really hope you're okay. Miss you."

I hung up and hit speed dial two for my brother. Thankfully, he picked up.

"Connie?" His voice was crackly and distant, but there was no doubt that it was him.

"Oh, John!" I couldn't help it. That was all I could say a couple of times.

"Connie, calm down…are you okay? I just saw the news."

"I'm fine."

"Where are you?"

I paused. Now that was an interesting question.

"Listen, John," I began slowly. "I can't tell you where I am right now."

"But –"

"No, I don't have time to explain, really. Are you at home?"

"…no."

"Work?"

"No. I'm over at Trisha's. I spent the night."

Trisha. His girlfriend Trisha. He'd had a date with her the night before, but I had assumed they'd come back to our flat…

I looked with wide eyes at the Doctor. "You…you…you never came home? Not at all?"

"No, Con, I didn't. Look, what's going on? You sound like you're in shock."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and took a deep breath to steady myself. "John, I'm fine," I insisted. "Look, just phone Mum and Dad for me, okay? My battery's about to go."

"Well, okay, but…" There was doubt in his voice, and he paused before saying, "Connie, listen. You're my little sister and I love you a lot. Take care of yourself, wherever you are. I'll let them know you're okay but as soon as somebody lends you a phone you call Mum and Dad, too."

"I promise I will. And John?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

"No need to get mushy, Connie." But the gruff sound of his voice told me otherwise.