Rory helped walk Mrs Collins and Mrs Hooper back to their minibus. He had an arm round Mrs
Collins and could feel her shaking. Miss Leake
was leading Mrs Hooper.
Miss Leake was in charge of Golden Years
Home for the Elderly. She told Rory this, and a
lot of other things that didn't interest him, as
they walked to the car park. She also kept being
cheerful at the old ladies. 'Now, don't let's be
sillies!' she said. 'It was just a silly old magic
trick, nothing to be scared of. Fancy being
scared of ghosties and ghoulies at your age,
Mrs Collins and Mrs Hooper!'
'Monster...' muttered Mrs Hooper.
'It wasn't a real monster, it was just a young
lad. Like this lad here!' Miss Leake said,
waving a hand at Rory. 'You're not scared of
him, now, are you?'
Rory thought that Sammy Star must be at
least fifteen years older than him. He didn't
mention it, though. It was hard to get a word in
edgeways when Miss Leake was talking.
'Lost,' said Mrs Collins. 'So lost.'
'You're not lost, Mrs Collins! We're in
London – LONDON,' said Miss Leake loudly.
'Now you just need to get on the bus and we'll
take you home. I said, we'll take you BACK
HOME. Back to lovely Golden Years for a cup
of cocoa then beddy-byes.'
Miss Leake unlocked the minibus and Rory
helped the two ladies up the steps. 'Now I'm
going to ask this young man to be very kind,'
said Miss Leake to her charges. 'I'm going to
ask him to stay here with you while I go back
for the others. I hope they've not got up to
mischief while I've been gone!'
She turned to Rory and gave him a would-be
winning smile. 'Now, you don't mind waiting,
do you? I won't be long. I can't leave my girls
alone, though!'
Rory nodded. 'That's fine.'
'There, do you hear that? He says it's fine. It's
FINE. You don't have to worry, because he's a
nurse,' Miss Leake said, with a little giggle in
her voice. 'Oh, they love a male nurse, do my
old dears! Maybe you should be the one to
worry!'
Rory forced a smile onto his face. 'I'm sure
we'll be OK.'
Miss Leake went off, still giggling a little to
herself. Rory shut the door of the minibus, and
sat down on a seat. Mrs Collins and Mrs
Hooper were in the seat behind, and he
swivelled round to talk to them. 'Are you all
right?' he asked.
They nodded slowly. The tears had stopped
falling now, but both old ladies still looked sad.
They had a haunted look, Rory thought, as if
they were thinking of a past tragedy.
They all sat in silence for a while. The two
women were holding hands tightly, clinging to
each other for comfort.
'What was it, Mrs Collins?' Rory asked softly
after a while. 'What's the matter? What scared
you?'
'Kylie,' she said.
Rory just gazed at her in surprise. It seemed a
very odd thing to be scared of.
'Kylie,' she repeated. 'My name. Call me
Kylie. Not Mrs Collins.'
'Amber,' said Mrs Hooper. 'I'm Amber. I'm
not mad.'
'Of course you're not,' said Rory. 'Who says
you are?'
'We have to be careful,' said Mrs Hooper. She
didn't seem to be talking to Rory, her eyes were
looking far away. 'We mustn't tell the truth.
They'll think we're mad.'
'We'll get locked up if we tell the truth,'
added Mrs Collins.
'Is something bad going on?' Rory asked,
worried now. 'Is something bad going on at the
Golden Years home?'
To his relief, Mrs Hooper shook her head.
'Not there,' she said. 'A long time ago. A very
long time ago.'
Mrs Collins nodded fiercely. 'A very long
time ago,' she agreed. 'Today. A very long time
ago today.'
Rory had thought he was getting somewhere,
but that answer made no sense at all.
'It was VE Day,' said Mrs Hooper. 'Victory in
Europe. I didn't know what that meant, then.
We didn't do it at school.'
'They asked me why I was in my nightie,'
said Mrs Collins. 'Why I was walking around in
a daze.'
Mrs Hooper almost smiled. 'I was dazed too.
They said there was a girl like me, a girl who
was confused. They wondered if we knew each
other. That's how we met. We've stuck together
ever since.' She squeezed her friend's hand.
'They said it must have been a bomb,' said
Mrs Collins. 'A bomb must have come down
and hurt our heads. That's why we didn't know
what had happened.'
Mrs Hooper nodded. They said they'd
thought the last Doodlebug had fallen months
ago. People were upset to think there'd been
more bombs. They said it would be the last one,
though. There was peace in Europe at last. We
knew it wasn't a bomb, but we didn't know
what had really happened. So we went along
with it.' She paused. 'We knew there must have
been other girls, but we didn't look for them. It's
not the sort of thing you can ask people.'
'They made us join their party,' said Mrs
Collins. 'It was the biggest party I'd ever seen.
Right there in Trafalgar Square. They were all
so happy. We danced and danced and danced.
We were so scared and so lost, but we danced.'
'I danced with a soldier,' said Mrs Hooper.
'His name was Albert. It was a summer's day
like this when we got married...' Tears began to
fall from her eyes again, and she began to sing.
'It may be an hour, it may be a week...'
Mrs Collins lifted her voice and joined in. 'It
may be fifty years...'
Rory felt tears pricking at his eyes too. The
two old ladies were so sad, yet so dignified.
The moment was broken. The door to the
minibus clunked open, and Miss Leake began
helping elderly people up the steps. 'Everything
all right?' she called to Rory, but didn't wait for
an answer. 'I'm sure you've been fine, even with
that cheeky pair! Mrs Collins and Mrs Hooper
are so naughty sometimes. They do play such
jokes. Why, the other day they tried to tell me
they were born in 1993! 1893 more like, I said,
didn't I, Mrs Hooper? But you will have your
little joke.' She didn't seem to care or even
notice that Mrs Hooper ignored her.
When the old people were seated, Rory got
up and walked down the bus to the door. 'Bye
then,' he said to Miss Leake.
'Goodbye, and thank you so much,' she
replied, sitting herself down in the driver's seat.
'Oh! By the way! You know those friends you
were with? That nice red-haired girl and the
young man in the plastic bowler hat?' Rory
nodded. 'Well, they got thrown out of the
theatre! Awful, isn't it? So I wouldn't go back
there looking for them if I were you.'
Rory sighed and shut the bus door behind
him. Amy and the Doctor had been thrown out
of yet another place. Lucky he still had his
mobile phone. He kept it with him out of habit.
At least in England around his own time it
should work.
As he moved away from the minibus, he
could hear the whole busload of elderly people
joining in the song. 'It may be an hour, it may
be a week, it may be fifty years. But I know we
will find loving hearts still entwined, on the day
we meet again.'
The wartime song always made him think of
Amy. He'd waited nearly 2,000 years for her.
Fifty years was nothing compared to that. The
song told the truth, though. Even after all that
time, their love had still been strong.
Rory smiled.