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I apologise in advance for insults of the Welsh. They don't represent my feelings whatsoever! I think Cardiff is super and all that, naturally.
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"Mum, it's Cardiff! Cardiff!"
"Calm down, Donna!"
Donna had been letting off steam about the promotion ever since she arrived at the family house for supper at six o'clock. It was now nine o'clock and her dulcet tones were taking their toll upon Wilf and his daughter … All through supper she had jabbered on about the matter, making aggressive hand movements with her knife and fork and banging her glass on the table.
"But it's just so … grey! And they're all Welsh! Come on … you know how I feel about the Welsh – sheep lovers and all that!"
"Well, that's hardly fair! Besides, you'll be living in the centre of the capital – miles from any grass, countryside, or sheep for that matter. Go on love, it'll do you good – life in a new city."
"Oh, thanks a bunch! Trying to get rid of me now, are we?" Donna was trying to be defiant, stubborn and attempting to get her own way. Although her exterior portrayed one who was angry at the world, not wanting to comply because of the sheer pleasure of being an inconvenience, Sylvia Noble could see the true hurt shining bright in her eyes. But she felt, what with the tragedy of the climax to Donna's experiences with that Doctor, it was time for her to let go and start a new life. She desperately wanted her daughter to remain a part of their lives, but Sylvia knew that she was always be a dependent child if she never branched out, alone. The Doctor had shown that she could be a better person when she took risks and did things for herself and her mother knew that this was an opportunity for this to happen in as safe a way as possible. Anyway, Cardiff was only a few hours away from London and they'd always stay in touch.
"No, dear – you know that's not it. I just think this is one of those chances you shouldn't turn down." Her tone was soft and surprisingly gentle. If there was one thing that man had taught her, it was that she'd always been too tough on Donna; never given her enough sympathy, nor accepted her for just being her.
Donna slumped back in her seat, a look of contempt crossing her features. She knew that her mother was right – ever since her grandfather had started pestering her to lead a more thrilling life, she really had been growing sick of the same old life in the suburbs of London. Bouncing between Fulham and Chiswick wasn't as exciting as it had been in the first few weeks, so could this new opportunity provide an escape from the bed she had chosen to make?
Therefore, it was with mingled regret and anticipation that Donna accepted the new job and two weeks later, her worldly possessions packed up in cardboard boxes in the back of a moving lorry, she bade farewell to her close friends, mother and granddad.
"I think it's you I'll miss the most," she told Wilf, trying desperately to stop the tears from brimming and falling down her eagerly made up face. Wilf smiled the smile of a man who has had to say similar goodbyes to loved ones knowing that they never get easier, not even with time. The last time he had said goodbye to a friend it had been one of the worst days of his life. The rain had poured in torrents and although he had promised to always look out for this particular friend, it sometimes got to him and he understood the enormity of his and his daughter's situation.
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As Donna was driven away, Wilf looked up to the sky in the hope that he might see the small blue box he had dreamed about so many times … But it was always the same. The sky was empty, as was the room where his beloved granddaughter had lived for so many years now was.