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Chapter 4

The Doctor kept pacing the small corridor in front of the changing rooms impatiently, shifting the clothes he was holding over his arm to check his watch again. Clara had been in there for 30 minutes. He had already selected a handful of clothes twenty minutes ago, so what was taking her so damn long?

"Is everything alright in there?" the Doctor asked, clearing his throat.

"Yep, all good," Clara replied, followed by the sound of a zip being closed before the curtain opened.

"What is that?" the Doctor spat upon seeing her. The flowery dress she wore looked pretty but hardly practical.

Clara frowned at him. "It's a dress. I trust you've seen one of those before. I like it," a sudden smile appeared on her face as she turned around, making the skirt fly, "Do you?"

He did, as a matter of fact. But that was hardly the point.

"I really think you should pick a more practical outfit," he remarked uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

When Clara looked up at him, her eyes growing bigger, his discomfort only grew for some reason. "I was gonna pick more than one outfit. I have trousers and shirts, too, look!"

She pointed at a large pile of clothes lying over a chair that was framed by several pairs of shoes. Now he really needed to protest.

"Clara, seriously," he pointed at the boots, "You can't possibly walk in those."

Suddenly another, deeper frown appeared on Clara's face as her eyes dropped to the pile of clothes he carried over his arm. She nodded towards it. "And that's what you've chosen? A pair of pyjama bottoms to go with your magician's coat?"

"These aren't pyjama bottoms," the Doctor replied defensively, "At least they're practical."

"Yeah," she giggled, "When you go to sleep. What happened to the velvet coat you used to wear? I liked that one."

"Times change. Now, come on," he said urgently, ushering her back inside the changing room, "Pick a few outfits so we can leave."

Clara closed the curtain behind her and the Doctor was able to hear the sound of a zip again, followed by the rustling of fabric. The idea of Clara stripping out of her clothes behind the curtain briefly entered his mind, but he brushed the image aside as soon as it had come. Even though Clara had grown up to be a beautiful woman, she was still his dead boss's daughter and he had no business thinking about her like that. Then suddenly the sounds stopped.

"Uhm, could you help me out here for a second?" Clara asked hesitantly, "I can't reach the zip."

The Doctor took a deep breath before he stepped into the tiny, stifling changing room and to his relief he found Clara fully clothed and wearing a grey jumper with a zip at her neck she truly couldn't possibly reach.

"Wouldn't it be smarter to get clothes you can actually put on yourself?" he asked drily as he zipped her up.

Clara admired herself in the mirror for a moment before she gave an approving nod. "I like this one. I'll take it. Unzip!"

She turned her back towards him again and the Doctor opened it for her before he cleared his throat. "Listen, since this seems to be taking a while, how about we meet at the ice cream shop in an hour? Do you remember where that was?"

Clara spun around to face him and after a moment she nodded in agreement, but something had changed about her. It was as if the light-heartedness had suddenly gone out of her.

"Yeah, we can do that," she forced a smile, "In fact, I was thinking of running a few more errands, too."

"And you'll be okay?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Yes," Clara nodded, smiling more earnestly now, "I'll be fine."

Even though the Doctor didn't feel quite comfortable leaving her on her own he knew that Clara was a grown woman and whoever had killed her father couldn't possibly know they were here. So he decided that instead of pacing the floor in front of the changing rooms he could just as well run some other errands, buy a couple of basics and of course some food for the ride to Leeds when suddenly he passed a bookshop. It was then that he remembered that today was Clara's birthday.

The Doctor stepped inside the bookshop and headed towards the shelf holding classic literature before he glanced around. He had no idea which one of those Clara had already read, probably all of them, but he did remember her fondness for Jane Austen so the Doctor ended up choosing a complete collection of her novels.

After having it gift-wrapped at the checkout he left the bookshop and went out of find the grocery shop. Maybe he would even come across a small birthday cake.

Clara was already waiting by the ice cream shop, carrying three bags full of clothes when he arrived there and the Doctor couldn't help but smile. There probably wasn't a single woman in this world who could resist the temptation of a credit card without limit. Yet she didn't look so very happy at all until she spotted him.

"I got you a little something," he said proudly as he held up a cupcake. It wasn't really a birthday cake, but it still made Clara's eyes light up when she saw it, "They had no candles, unfortunately."

"I thought you'd have forgotten by now," she smiled at him until he also held the wrapped present in her direction, "That really wasn't necessary, you know?"

Clara set her bags down and reached for her present, unwrapping it carefully until the title could be seen. Then she suddenly froze.

"I love Jane Austen. I didn't think you'd remember," Clara whispered almost absent-mindedly before she brought her hand to her face and wiped away a tear.

The Doctor bent down immediately to be at eye level with her. She was crying and he had no idea what to do. "Hey, hey, hey," he said gently, "What's the matter?"

Oh God, what had he done?

"Nothing," she replied but an instant later flung her arms around him in a tight embrace, "I love it. Thank you so much."

With no idea what else to do he simply placed an arm around her and awkwardly patted her head. "Then why are you crying?"

"Sorry, I'm an emotional mess. It's my dad. And the house. And everything."

Suddenly Clara struggled free from his embrace and cleared her throat before she looked at him, her eyes still watering. Nevertheless she forced a smile.

"My dad used to take me to get ice cream on my birthday when I was kid. It was our tradition. Standing here, it feels a little odd," she held up the book, "Thank you, the present is lovely. Jane Austen is my favourite and all the books I had were in the house. This is the best way to start a new collection."

"I'm sorry, Clara," he said plainly, looking straight at her, "I'm sorry this is happening to you, you don't deserve that. You'll have your old life back, I promise. Your father left you more than enough money to start over. Just not here, not now. You need to keep a low profile until everything has calmed down."

For a moment Clara just stood there, clutching her book in her hands until finally she nodded.

"So, Leeds?" she asked.

"Yes," the Doctor blew the air out between his teeth, "Leeds. I don't know why, but I've got a bad feeling about this."

Clara shrugged, giving him a sad smile. "We need the passports though."

"Leeds it is," he said and bent down to pick up her shopping bags. For a moment Clara looked as if she was about to protest but didn't.

"Could you do me a favour?" Clara asked him as they headed out of the shopping centre, "Can you tell me what exactly it was that my father did? I always thought he was a lawyer, now I wanna know what he was really doing."

"You have a right to know, I guess," the Doctor replied. There was no point lying to Clara about it any longer. He could leave out the details that might put her in danger, but he could still tell her enough to understand, "And it's going to be a long ride to Leeds if we don't talk at all."