The Doctor couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much. The bowling was faster and more furious than he could have hoped for in a tiny place like this, although his opponent was becoming increasingly angry at his refusal to go out and beginning to make mistakes, which took some of the fun out of the game. In fact, some of the balls were looking distinctly bodyline, which the Doctor considered bad form, but not illegal yet. Here came the furious bowler again, the expression on his face more than a little murderous, but-wait- there was someone on the pitch. Actually on the pitch! In fact, wasn't that… his concentration wavered for just a moment, and the next second he was lying on the grass in front of the wicket, felled by a speeding cricket ball in the exact centre of his ribcage. Yes, definitely bodyline. He had time to wonder groggily whether he was still in before he was surrounded by a crowd of faces, foremost among them that red-faced man- Siegfried- who kneeling by his side and shaking his shoulders;
"Tristan? Tristan! Oh, God, come on, speak to me, little brother!"
Please don't take my pulse, please don't take my pulse…. "I'm fine, Siegfried. Really." He snatched his wrist out of the other's grasp. "Just a bit of a bruise" He tried to reproduce Tristan's easy smile and struggled into a sitting position.
"Hmm, well, if you insist. But don't try to move for the second. Let's get you back to Skeldale house. It's lucky we've got the car here. You can tell me later where you learned to bat like that." The Doctor allowed himself to be bundled into the passenger seat of a delightful 1930s Rover, the back seat overflowing with multiple forms of dog-life, all sniffing at him with interest. "Alright, dogs, alright! What's the matter? It's like you've never seen him before. Now don't try to talk, Tristan; just sit there and we'll get you home." Gratefully, the Doctor sat back into his seat, vaguely wondering if he could tell the dogs in their own language to act normally without Siegfried noticing. He could have explained everything, he supposed, but he was feeling too winded for lengthy explanations, and it could have led to trouble for Tristan. Anyway, he had promised he wouldn't tell, and, well, his word was his bond. An old friend had taught him that…As the car pulled away, he noticed the concerned face of Tegan staring back at him. He only hoped she would find Tristan and discover the truth before she gave the game away.
Tegan watched the car pull away, then scrambled back up the hill to find Tristan sitting up in the long grass, a look of concern on his face.
"Did you see?"
"Yes, I saw." he answered shortly; "Is he alright?"
"I can't tell. He was able to sit up and talk, so at least one of his hearts must still be going. I couldn't get closer enough to find out any more."
"Let's get after them, then. I know where they're going; we just have to wait until Siegfried's out of the way… Wait a minute. What do you mean, one of his hearts?"
"I'll explain on the way. Just come on!"