He thought about it some more, and then brightly declared, "I know! Let's ask Donna!" He had no idea what the answering groans were for; he had thought it was an excellent idea.
"What?! What's the problem?" he asked them both.
"I don't know what the matter with Donna is, but you've both said that we can't see her," Jenny clarified. She peered at him, wondering what exactly the problem with him was!
"Have you gone completely doolally?" Sylvia demanded to know. "Seeing Donna will kill her. You said so yourself. I'm not too bloody old and stupid to forget that!"
"Unfortunately I am," he involuntarily confessed. "I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on."
Sylvia frowned and Jenny looked puzzled. "Is there anyone else we can ask, Gran?" she wondered.
Sylvia thought about that as she tried not to watch Half Ten demolish a burger. "Come to think of it, there was that nice looking fella we saw on the subwave network. Looked just like a film star, he did."
"How do we contact him?" Jenny asked Sylvia as she worried about her father's lack of response to this query.
Standing up decisively, Sylvia announced, "I'll ask Dad, he's bound to know. He's got more secrets than MI5 and MI6 put together!" It was then that Sylvia thought to add, "You can call him Gramps, like Donna does."
"Gramps!" Half Ten yelled out, suddenly coming to life. "I've missed Gramps. Can we go and see him?"
Sylvia took in his expectant face and couldn't help wondering for the umpteenth time that day what had happened to him. Whatever it was, he was no longer the man he had once been; he had disappeared when Donna had been returned home, in more ways than one. Perhaps getting him in the same room as her dad would help matters? It was worth a try. Trying to smile pleasantly, she replied, "Of course we can."
The whoop of joy both shocked her and brought unbidden tears to her eyes. Damn Martian affecting her heart that way! She was supposed to be hating him, not feeling this sympathetic. With that end in mind, she told herself she was doing this for Jenny. Jenny needed to meet her family.
"Hello, love! You're back home early," Wilf greeted Sylvia when she opened the street door and stepped into their hallway. "Cup of tea?"
As he turned to head for the kitchen, she interrupted his train of thought by saying, "Dad, I've met someone you might want to meet."
"Oh?" he queried. "Got yourself a new fella I should know about?" he teased.
"Well, it's partly a fella," she reluctantly agreed. "But he isn't mine; he's Donna's."
"What do you mean?" Wilf rushed to the door to peer outside, and bounced up and down in glee when he spotted Half Ten. "Doctor! You came back! Have you come to fix her?"
"I erm…," Half Ten stammered, and instantly found himself engulfed in a hug that he eagerly returned. "I've missed you, Gramps!"
"Dad, aren't you going to introduce me?" a young female voice behind him gently reminded him of her presence.
Half Ten extracted himself from Wilf, and sniffed before pointing to Jenny. "This is our Jenny. Jenny, meet your great-grandfather, Wilf."
"What?" Wilf appealed to Sylvia pathetically.
"Yes Dad, this is Donna's daughter Jenny. Shame about him being her father, but you can't have everything," Sylvia retorted.
Confusion gave way to love and acceptance as Wilf reached out to grasp Jenny and drag her into his arms. "Welcome to the family, Sweetheart! Call me Gramps."
"Hello Gramps," Jenny greeted him, and wallowed in the love being offered.
"Let's get inside and have a cup of tea," Sylvia gruffly ordered them; more out of embarrassment than nastiness. "We don't want the neighbours thinking we've gone mad."
"No, they already know that one," Wilf whispered to Jenny with a wink; making her giggle. "Come on, Doctor; come and explain why you are here," he invited Half Ten, taking a firm grasp of his arm as though he expected the half Time Lord to scarper at any second.
Feeling slightly cornered but not knowing why, Half Ten bluffed his way through an answer. "Ah, well, you, Gramps, I might have a bit of trouble with that."
And they headed into the kitchen diner to explain how the three of them came to be standing there at that time of day.
After hearing the tale, Wilf decided, "I think this deserves a little celebration. Do you fancy a small snifter?"
Jenny was keen to find out exactly what this would entail.
Half Ten was convinced someone had moved the edge of the settee since he had sat down. And everytime he tried to figure it out, a rippling giggling fit had weaved its way through his system, causing him to find almost every mortal thing funny. Either that or Chris Evans had suddenly become the funniest man on the planet when he wasn't looking.
"Dad! Take that bottle of sherry away from him!" Sylvia Noble called out to her father.
Wilf stood, trying to appear innocent in her eyes. "What? I didn't do anything. All I did was give him a sherry or two to celebrate meeting our Jenny."
"Exactly how many is 'a sherry or two'?" she demanded to know.
Wilf held the bottle up to the light as he considered this question. "No more than five at the most; perhaps seven," he hazarded a guess.
"Dad!" Sylvia gasped out in shock. "How could you? I don't even know if he is allowed to drink that much."
There was a cheeky grin from Half Ten in answer. "N-n-n-n-not allowed normally. Donna would disapprove," he stuttered out, and happily closed his eyes.
Jenny considered him with a great deal of interest and confusion. "Why is he behaving like that, Gran?"
Sylvia patted her arm to give some comfort. "It's called being drunk, love."
There was a muffled, "I'm not drunk. I don't know how."
She ignored that, and continued, "At least he is a happy drunk; I've seen far worse."
"Like Tony Wishart, up on the corner," Wilf agreed, reminiscing. "He'd pick a fight with anyone when he's had one jar too many over the eight."
"Don't remind me," Sylvia huffed. "I'm the one that had to take him to Casualty when he picked a fight with the lamp post outside, the stupid sod."
"Donna didn't approve," Half Ten added with another giggle. "She said it was a shame he hadn't hit it with his groin instead of his hand." He snuggled closer into the cushion he was holding. "He's a dangerous prat at the best of times, and a rubbish kisser. Got her own back when she wrapped his hand up good and tight."
"Jenny, would you go and fetch your father a large glass of water, please," Sylvia quickly asked when it looked as though some interesting fact was about to fall out of his mouth.
Jenny scowled. She'd miss out on some enlightening information if she left the room at that moment, but the expression on her grandmother's face did not allow for any disobedience so she hastily made for the kitchen.
Waiting for her to go, Sylvia immediately asked Half Ten a further question. "Well? What happened between Tony and our Donna?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "Not nearly as much as he wanted, fortunately, or deserved. Donna made sure that he got the message that when a lady says 'no' she means 'no'," he stated proudly. "It was funny when we tasered him with the sonic screwdriver; that got the point home," he continued, demonstrating the action with glee, and burst into laughter. "He almost lit up like a Christmas tree!"
Wilf and Sylvia exchanged an anxious glance when Jenny re-entered the room.
"We'd better get him sobered up before Donna gets home," Wilf commented as Jenny handed him the glass of water she carried.
"Will that help?" Jenny wondered.
"It'll make sure he gets out of the house," Sylvia sharply answered. "We can't have him hanging around the place." She then prodded the duplicate. "Oi, Doctor! Where do you live?"
He pouted and rubbed his arm where she had poked him. "I don't know, do I? Somewhere or other. Just leave me here for the time being." He then appalled Sylvia by nestling down on to her settee, of all places!
"Oh no you don't!" she cried, and poked at him again. "Get up! Dad, get him to leave the house."
"But Gran, where will he go?" Jenny tearfully asked.
"I don't care! Anywhere as long as it isn't here," Sylvia snapped, and then realised what she had done. She reached out to hug Jenny. "He can't stay here, love; it's too dangerous. I wonder if Suzette can put him up for the night…?"