Chapter Seven

Hand in hand, Amy and Rory stroll along residential streets, passing terraced housing, local greengrocers, and busy launderettes, towards the dominating skyline of the inner city. Having abandoned their shopping trip, and avoided early exposure of future technology, the couple head towards the river in the hope of doing some nineteen-sixties sight-seeing.

'I still can't believe you thought they'd accept credit cards!' laughs Rory. For the past half an hour, their close encounter in the clothes shop has been a constant source of entertainment for the giddy couple.

'Shut up, you!' Amy responds; swinging their entwined hands at her side. 'At least I wasn't stalking those women!'

'I wasn't stalking,' Rory says defensively, 'I was just–'

'Whatever!' Amy jokingly interrupts. Upon reaching the end of the street, the couple cross over the road, dodging an oncoming black taxi cab and a small family car, and peer over the railings to watch the boats cruise slowly against the current, and into the heart of the city.

Amy and Rory walk upstream along the bank of the river. With each step closer to the centre of the city, the steady hum of routine life – of housewives visiting the local butchers, elderly couples waiting for buses, and mothers chasing after excited children – is slowly replaced with the busy drone of the inner city: rattling cars speeding along the roads, Police sirens whirring in the distance, and congested pavements bustling with businessmen, engrossed in their commute. In an attempt to escape the congested streets Amy and Rory turn onto Waterloo Bridge and head towards the south bank.

In the centre of the bridge stands a plump elderly woman wearing a long, dark green coat over a pale blue dress; her white, curled hair blows violently across her face as she stands facing the breeze that blows along the river. The woman grabs the grey, metal rail in front of her, and ungracefully leans forwards to lift her leg over the protective railing. Now straddling the rail, the old woman raises her other leg in an attempt to clamber over onto the small ledge on the other side of the protective rail.

'Oh my god,' Amy says; stunned by what is occurring further down the bridge. 'What the hell is she doing?' Amy releases her husband's hand and begins to run towards the elderly woman.

By now the woman's actions have drawn the attention of further shocked onlookers: two men dressed in navy blue suits have grabbed the woman's arm in an attempt to coerce her back onto the pavement. 'Please, stand back,' one of the men shouts: he motions to the crowd of people now surrounding the woman to move away, 'she's very ill. Please, stand further back.' He takes the elderly woman by the hand and speaks to her softly, attempting to convince her in simple terms to step back onto the pavement.

Having to stop suddenly to prevent herself from running into the retreating crowd, Amy skids to a halt; she is joined by an out of breath Rory a few seconds later. 'What's going on?' he asks; eager to help in any way possible. Amy cranes her neck in an attempt to look over the heads of the crowd of people. From momentary glances between a sea of moving heads, Amy sees the two suited men holding the woman's hands: one of them leans his head towards the elderly woman, clearly trying to resolve the situation.

'I can't see,' replies Amy, 'looks like someone is trying to talk her down.' She backs away from the crowd and stands at her husband's side. Placing his hand around his wife's shoulder, Rory stares nervously at the crowd of whispering on-lookers. The pair watch together in silence, unsure as to what they can do to help the situation. After a few moments, Rory asks the question that has been revolving around both of their minds:

'Are we allowed to help her?' They share a confused and concerned look.

'I don't know,' replies Amy.

'We should help, but... I mean, what if we stop something that's supposed to happen?' Rory again looks to his wife for an answer, but receives no response. 'It could change everythi–'

Rory's sentence is stopped short by the screams of the crowd. In an instant the mass of people that were surrounding the elderly woman rush to the metal railings and look down at the murky river below. Amy quickly breaks free of Rory's arm and follows the crowd: she leans so far over the railing that Rory grabs her by the waist in fear of her toppling over. She looks over the rail just in time to see the large burst of water creating ripples on the surface of the surging river. 'Oh my god' repeats Amy, this time with a tone of shock and disgust.

As the distressed water subsides, and the ripples dissolve into the steady flow of the current, a cold silence spreads over the crowd of people looking down at the river. Although some of the people walk away, many stay; perhaps in the hope of seeing the elderly woman come rushing to the surface, gasping for air, with arms flailing – most definitely alive. No such miracle occurs; as the collection of on-lookers realise that all hope for the woman's survival has been lost, the crowd slowly diffuses. Many of the people, although complete strangers before the incident, walk away in pairs or groups; bound together by the horrific scene they have witnessed.

After a while the crowd of people disappears entirely, leaving no trace of the event ever existing: cars and pedestrians travel obliviously past the exact spot from which the elderly woman jumped. Still leaning over the railing, however, in complete disbelief, is Amy Pond. She stares at the dark water, unable to erase the horrific thoughts running through her head: imagining the woman's fragile, lifeless body being swept downstream, her lungs filled with sewage, her bones smashing against the concrete bridge supports.

Not knowing what to say, Rory silently places a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder, and guides her away from the rail. The couple embrace; Amy clutches her husband tightly, comforted by his presence. Somewhat rejuvenated by being held in her husband's arms, Amy grasps Rory's hand and the pair continue to walk along the bridge: arriving on the south side of the river in a considerably different mood to when they had left the north bank.