Sunday, 9 September 1888

Little Alice had a cold. Clara sent her back to bed with a book of poetry so that she could practice her reading. The girl was quite the bookworm and she soaked up information like a sponge. Her brother Russell was less attentive, but he always tried his best for fear of disappointing Clara. Both children loved her and constantly sought her approval. Not that Clara could ever be cross with them anyway. She so much as looked stern and they did their maths.

Clara could tell Alice wanted to say something while she tucked her into bed. The little girl looked nervous; she opened and closed her mouth several times. Clara decided to intervene, "What is it Alice? You know you can tell me anything."

"I don't want you to go out today!" the girl said in a rush.

Clara blinked, surprised. "Why is that dear?" she asked.

"I heard daddy talking yesterday." Alice said, "He and Uncle Foster were talking about some bad things that have been happening."

"What bad things?" Clara said cautious.

"Umm… that someone has been hurting ladies. That someone killed them." Alice whispered.

Clara sighed. She knew this conversation would happen eventually. London was in such a tizzy that the children were bound to hear about it. She had been hoping for later rather than sooner though. Clara did not want to lie to Alice, but she didn't want to scare her either.

"Yes there have been some bad things happening. As long as you do what I taught you; don't talk to strangers and never leave the house without someone, then you will be safe. Ok honey?"

"What about you?" Alice asked.

"Do not worry about me, darling, I know how to stay safe too. I promise nothing will happen to me." Clara smiled at the little girl reassuringly.

She finished tucking the blankets in around Alice and then kissed her on the forehead. "Now only read for a bit, and then get some sleep. You need to get nice and healthy again, ok?"

"Yes, Miss Oswald."

Clara hated that Alice needed to be afraid. Why does such cruelty have to exist in the world? Why do children have to grow up fearing the very real monsters which lurk in the dark? It simply wasn't fair. By the time Clara left the house she was positively fuming. For such a small and pretty woman she could be quite alarming when upset.

Not paying attention to where she was going, Clara found herself on the same street where she'd run into the Doctor the week prior. She glanced up and down the empty lane. It was strange, but it felt like someone was watching her. Clara shrugged it off as nerves. Who could blame her being a bit jumpy, there was a psycho on the loose! Of course he was killing prostitutes, not governesses, but still. It was enough to unnerve anyone.

She stood on the street corner a minute. Part of her was hoping the Doctor would show up. Clara knew it was unlikely the man would turn up in the same place two Sundays in a row. It didn't stop her looking for him though. She had asked literally everyone she knew about him. Surely somebody knew who 'the Doctor' was? Most of her friends just shook their heads and smiled at Clara's new obsession. A few people had actually heard of him, yet no one knew his name.

It turns out the man was something of a local legend. A boogeyman of sorts. There were a hundred different stories about him, each more unlikely than the next. In general it was agreed that he was a reclusive mad man. Some stories said he was a failed scientist, others a medical doctor. They usually included him exhuming corpses and stealing children, and other such nonsense. Most stories also claimed he was immortal, saying he had been sighted repeatedly for over decades without ageing.

Clara thought people had been reading too much Mary Shelley. In the two minutes she'd known the man he seemed a bit socially awkward, to be sure, but not insane. Her friends pointed out that there was no way she could tell if the Doctor was crazy or not in a two-minute conversation. Still Clara didn't believe it. It was clear something was going on; she just didn't think it involved stealing corpses.

Clara shivered. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. In fact she was positive that something moved in the shadows at the end of the street. Clara kept her face under control and turned, pretending to walk in the opposite direction. Out of the corner of her eye Clara saw a figure dart out of the darkness. He quickly ducked into a side street. The Doctor! Clara recognized him instantly. Without thought she took off after him.

She turned the corner and slowed her pace. The Doctor was walking now; apparently oblivious to the fact he was being followed. Clara felt a little silly, but this was probably the only way she'd find out anything more about him. Eventually the Doctor entered a small park, which was entirely devoid of people. Clara hid behind a tree as he looked around nervously.

Clara gasped when the Doctor suddenly jumped into the air and froze above the ground. A metal rung ladder appeared out of nowhere, which he pulled down. It was a magic trick! Some masterful illusion, it had to be! Then to her utter amazement the Doctor climbed up the ladder and disappeared, taking it with him.

Running forward Clara tried to see where the Doctor could have gone. There was nothing but sky above her, no sign of the ladder. Clara jumped, her fingers grasping at the air. With an unladylike thump she landed on her backside. Undeterred Clara took another running leap. Her hands wrapped around cold metal. Hanging off the ground Clara used all her weight to force the ladder down.

Standing before the impossible thing Clara hesitated. This was the strangest thing she'd ever done. Taking a deep breath she began to pull herself up. A beautiful winding staircase materialized at the top of the rung ladder. The tarnished, silver steps spiraled up and up into the clouds.

An invisible staircase. She was on an invisible staircase! Clara could hear the Doctor's footsteps echoing off the metal above. She started climbing. Time blurred; one moment she was at the bottom step and the next moment she was at the top. In far less time than it should have taken.

The last steps went through the clouds. Another world opened up before her. Endless white mists contrasting sharply with an equally endless black sky. Heart hammering in her throat Clara stepped off the metal platform. For one terrifying moment she knew she was going to fall through the ether. It supported her. Clara took another step. It still held.

Once she was able to full register her surroundings, she saw the box. A blue wooden box rested on the surface of the cloud. A glowing sign on it bore the words 'Police Public Call Box'. Clara didn't know what to make of it. It looked old and faded, the paint worn away with time. Cautiously, she walked toward it and knocked on the front door. Hearing movement inside Clara panicked. She dodged to the side just as the front door swung open.

"Hello?" called the Doctor's voice. "Umm…who's there? Hello?"

Clara ran around the outside of the structure as the Doctor searched for the source of the knocking. Afraid of what might happen if she were discovered, Clara made a dash back to the stairs the moment he was out of sight. She wasn't quick enough.

"Clara?" the Doctor asked surprised.

Close to hyperventilating, she slowly turned to face the man behind her. Except now she had to wonder, was he a man at all? Or some kind of god or fairytale being, a monster even?

"Hello, Doctor." Clara said at last.

A/N - I'm going to try to update this with more regularity in the future.

Is anyone else going crazy waiting to the new episodes (Less than a month to go here in the USA) ?