Chapter 8 – Time

Donna Noble stared up at the two doctors. "Is it… gone? Out of me?"

Martin gave Smith a quick look, who held out his hand to Donna. "Go ahead, Doctor Ellingham." Then he patted Donna's arm and waved his sonic-thingy over the woman.

Martin cleared his throat. "Ahem. The organism has been removed, and I have sutured and bandaged your arm. I'd prefer if you came to see me in a few days. I've put in a surgical drain. Lord knows what might be left in there."

Donna started to sit upright and Martin supported her. She flexed her arm in amazement. "It is gone! And it doesn't hurt, not a bit! Miracle pain killers, right?"

Martin glanced over at Smith. "I didn't give you any, nor anesthesia either."

"Oh," the woman said. "Well, I feel right as rain."

Smith peered at his sonic. "Must be a bit of post-delivery endorphins."

"Delivery?" Donna started to hyperventilate. "Sounds like you're saying I've just given birth!"

"You did," said Smith.

"You didn't," scoffed Martin.

The two doctors looked at one another for a few seconds while Donna turned wide-eyed from one to the other with her mouth hanging open.

"Not exactly," added Martin.

Smith bobbed his head and tapped his teeth with the sonic. "Well, no… not exactly."

Donna sighed and relaxed. "Well, I'm glad you two agree on something, at least. So I wasn't pregnant?"

Mercifully Smith kept his mouth shut as Martin spoke. "You were not, nor have you been."

"Feel ok?" Smith asked.

"Think so," Donna replied.

Martin pushed past Smith and put his sphygmomanometer on Donna's right arm. "Not quite as good as the left arm, but…." He pumped up the cuff, put his stethoscope to her elbow and listened intently.

"Well, doc…" said Donna.

"Shush!" said Martin.

Smith put his finger to his lips and smiled encouragingly.

"Just want to ask…" she went on.

"Shush!"

Martin stripped off the cuff and rolled it up. "Your blood pressure is nearly normal. Slightly elevated. No dizziness?"

"No." She winced as she moved her arm. "Bloody bandage is awfully tight, though."

"Yes, that's to keep…" Martin glanced at Smith. "Ahem… the tissues compressed… to promote healing of the…" He adjusted the sling he'd put around her neck.

"Oh, yes." Donna flexed her left hand and wiggled her fingers. "Looks like it works."

"When's the last time you had a checkup? Been eating well?"

She laughed. "You've cut up my arm and are now asking about my diet?"

"I'm a GP, that's what I do. Keeping people… healthy." Martin tucked the blood pressure cuff into his trolley and rolled to the side. "I'll have to clean up…" he pointed to the steel basin with the bloody instruments, luckily hidden beneath a towel.

"I'll take that Doc." Smith picked up the basin and the biological waste bin. "I'll just put these in the…"

"Car," interrupted Donna.

"Speaking of cars, I suggest that you get your brakes checked out," Martin said. "They make a horrible racket."

Smith nodded in agreement. "I can do that. They have quite a few miles on them."

"How many?" asked Martin innocently. "There is a garage in the village, believe it or not."

"Oh, several hundred, million, trillion…" Smith stopped. "Sorry, just more of me running off at the mouth." Smith bounded out the door. "Be right back!"

Donna laughed. "He's always doing that. Throwing out odd comments, I mean."

Martin groaned as he was living in a village of people with odd moments. "I do understand."

Martin then walked across the office to the device, where a pump beeped and isopropyl alcohol sloshed over the gray mass inside. He bent and peered at it then stood. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Donna laughed. "I'm from Chiswick. Near London."

"I know where Chiswick is!" Martin blew up. "What about you?" He glared at Smith who'd just rushed back in, his coattails flying.

Smith smiled. "You really won't believe me."

"Not likely. Someone from school set this up didn't they?"

Smith walked across the room and touched the stasis pod. "No."

"So tell me, Doctor Smith, where are you from?"

"Gallifrey."

"Don't know it," declared Martin. "Where is it?"

Smith smiled his toothy grin at the GP. "Does Donna need more of your expert medical attention?"

Martin walked to his desk pulled out a pad and picked up a pen. "Miss Noble, are you allergic to any antibiotics?"

She shook her head. "Don't think so."

"I'm writing you a prescription for a broad spectrum antibiotic." He scribbled on the paper. "I have a sample pack of erythromycin to get you started, as well as a mild pain killer. Ice your arm, keep it elevated. If you develop a fever, call me. My number's on the pad." He handed the scrip to the woman. "Are you able to stand?"

"Yes," she said as she slipped from the examination table. "There." She looked around the room. "Have you thought about painting this room? This green is just… ugh!"

Smith took Donna by the arm. "I'll walk Donna to the… car. Be back in a jiff."

Donna allowed herself to be moved towards the door, but stopped and looked at Martin. "Thank you."

"Erh, you're welcome," said the GP of Port Wenn.

Donna hugged him with her right arm and kissed his cheek. "There." She looked about the cottage. "Besides the paint… you may want to work on your bedside manner. You can be off-putting, you know."

Martin sneered but pressed his lips together.

Donna took a step, then stopped and looked up at the tall doctor. "You're all alone out here aren't you?"

The GP waved her comment away. "None of your concern."

"Well…" Donna looked at Smith for a moment and sighed. "Must get lonely. Thanks for the…" she hoisted her bandaged arm in the sling. Then Smith took her from the room.

Martin surveyed the wreckage of his Friday evening. The light was fading, it was nearly 6:30, and he'd not eaten, which would throw his digestive system off kilter. He gazed at the thing in the clear tube which flicked a tendril at him as he stared at it. He put out a finger and touched the glass.

Again that odd feeling of dislocation struck, but he was expecting it. He was looking at his sad and grumpy face distorted through a curved tube of Perspex.

A thought entered his head in a strange soundless voice. "All alone aren't you? You can fix that."

He took his hand back quickly but not quickly enough.

"Louisa… Louisa…," the voice lingered. "Bet she's pretty, although I find humans ugly. Goodbye Doc!"

He jumped as Smith bounced back into the consulting room.

"We'll be off," Doctor Smith said as he looked at the dazed GP. "You all right?"

Martin shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Yes…" he said slowly. "I think…" His head snapped up. "Oh, you're back."

"Yes, Doctor Ellingham, but it is time for me and my companion to be going."

"Time?"

"Yes, Martin. I can't waste time. No one can." Smith stuck out his hand and Martin took it.

The grip was released reluctantly.

Smith picked up the beeping machine which still whirred and hissed. "Come my dear," he cooed. "Let's get you home."

Smith paused at the door. "You're doing fine, Doctor Ellingham. I foresee for you… well…" he paused. "Time will tell, won't it?" he laughed, then he was gone.

Martin stood frozen for a few seconds and ran after Smith out the kitchen door towards the tiny garden shed. He saw Smith plunge inside the rickety building. "Wait!" he yelled.

Martin heard a creak of hinges and a door open and close. "What the devil?" He knew there was no back door to the tiny building. What in hell was Smith doing in his shed, he wondered?

He opened the door and saw a blue police box, one of the old fashioned ones, tucked into the shed. He'd not seen one like this in years. "What in God's name…?"

The police box started to glow, accompanied by that strange screeching sound as it started to fade from sight. Martin watched dumbstruck as he could see the back wall of his shed straight through the blue box as it faded completely away.

Dr. Martin Ellingham, GP, FRCS, felt his mouth drop open as his eyes roved around the dirty interior. "Rubbish. Rubbish!" he shouted. He fell back. "Oh, rubbish!"