Hello everyone! I hope you're excited to read this chapter just as I was excited to write it. There's a little surprise that I've written in this chapter. Will the meeting go well or will it end in disaster? ;)

Enjoy!

Clara paced around her room nervously. Today would be the day she would meet John Foreman. The day she would have to disappoint her father yet again, but could anyone blame her? Why should she spend the rest of her life with a man she didn't love? It's unreasonable.

Her train of thought was disturbed when she heard a knock resounding from her bedroom door.

"Miss Oswald, your father has called for you. He says that the guests will be here any minute," a maid said from the other side.

"Thank you. I'll be downstairs in a moment."

Clara made up her mind. Whatever scheme her father had planned, it wasn't going to work. She may accept her suitor's friendship but that would strictly be it.

Straightening her shoulders, she strode towards the bedroom door and opened it. As she entered the drawing room, she heard her father call her name.

"Ah, Clara, there you are. They will be here any minute now," he said excitedly.

His daughter didn't share his excitement, as she merely nodded and avoided his gaze. If he was so eager for her to marry John Foreman, maybe he should be the one who marries him and not her, but she kept her peace.

Clara heard voices coming from the hallway and knew they had arrived. If only she could figure out a way to escape from this nightmare.

"Harold! I hope you and your cousin had a pleasant journey on the way to London," Dave exclaimed as he shook hands with the man.

A younger, taller man followed behind him and Clara assumed he was the man her father was trying to match-make her with. While she couldn't help but notice his funny chin and the red bowtie, she had a hard time imagining spending the rest of her life with him. Despite this, there a voice at the back of her telling her he seemed familiar but she quickly dismissed this.

He looked equally dismayed. Well, that was, until he laid eyes on her.

"And this must be Miss Oswald," Harold said, taking her hand and kissing it. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Your father spoke highly of you."

She forced a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr…"

"Saxon. Harold Saxon," he replied. "This is my cousin, John Foreman."

The young man gave her a shy smile before he kissed her hand. "Miss Oswald."

"Mr Foreman," she said, returning his smile.

"John, please. The only people who call me Mr Foreman are, well," he said sheepishly, "…everybody else."

"Only if you call me Clara."

"Fair enough."

Harold and Dave exchanged looks, pleased with how things are going so far. John still held her hand and Clara immediately tugged it away.

"So, shall we have lunch then?" Dave asked happily.

"Wonderful. We are famished after the long journey."

As the two men chatted away, Clara and John followed behind at a slower pace. While she felt the need to be anywhere else but in the current situation she was in, her suitor's mood was the exact opposite.

John cleared his throat. "I was told that you recently moved here from Blackpool. How are you liking London so far?"

"I wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea of moving away from my grandmother but eventually, I ended up being fond of living here," Clara explained, smiling at the true reason, thinking about the Doctor.

"London is much busier, isn't it?"

She smiled in agreement, not knowing what else to say as they enter the dining room.

"Allow me," John said as he pulled a chair, beaming.

From the hallway, Donna, Mr Rentford, and several other household members were spying with curiosity.

"Chin boy seems enamoured with Clara," Donna commented. "I can't really tell if the feeling is mutual, though."

"Why are we even eavesdropping? Shouldn't you be in the kitchen, helping?" Mr Rentford said.

His friend rolled her eyes. "Shaun is more than capable of preparing lunch by himself and shouldn't you be in the stables?"

Mr Rentford opened his mouth but no words came out. She had a point. "Fair enough."

However, moments later, they dispersed as the food was almost ready.

"So, John I heard you will be taking over your father's railway company soon," Dave commented.

The young man tried his best at suppressing his frown, giving a half-smile instead. If there was one thing he hated, it was being reminded of his restricted future. He never had any intention of being in the family business from the beginning. He wanted to study to become a doctor – to help people, cure them but his father had insisted he knows what's best.

"It won't be in the near future, of course," Harold interrupted, sensing his cousin's discomfort. Besides, he wasn't going to risk the meeting going awry. "My uncle insisted on John settling down first before taking the next big step."

The remainder of lunch went a lot smoother than Clara had imagined. The conversation, for the most part, involved general topics and she wasn't sure if she should feel glad or suspicious.

"I hope to see you again, Clara Oswald," John said, kissing her hand.

She forced a smile and nodded.

"I'm certain the both of you will in the near future," her father interrupted.

Once the carriage drove away, Clara dropped her smile and turned around to her father who was grinning happily.

"Did you notice the way he looked at you? That man is in love with you!" Dave exclaimed as they retired to the living room.

Clara merely rolled her eyes. "Did you even pay attention to me at all?"

He didn't hear her, too excited at the idea of his daughter getting married. "So what do you think?"

"No."

His jolly mode was immediately killed. "But, I thought the two of you had great chemistry!"

"I don't mind being friends with him – he doesn't seem pompous like most previous failed suitors."

Dave hid both his hands in the pockets of his trousers and pondered. Surely enough they will fall in love if they spend more time together. "I suppose I'll accept it."

Clara nodded, knowing well enough her father only said that to avoid any further arguments. She strode out of the living room and headed straight for the kitchen and almost everyone gathered around her.

"So? Is Chin boy a keeper or another dumpster?" Donna asked, curious if her friend was attracted to the man.

Clara giggled. "He's not a dumpster but 'Chin boy' will be nothing more than a friend."

Donna and Mr Rentford exchanged glances from across the room. There was no doubt about it any longer. Her heart was indeed with a certain doctor.

"You looked like a puppy the moment you laid eyes on her, cousin dearest," Harold said as soon as the carriage started moving. He stared at his cousin who had a silly grin on his face.

"It's her," John murmured, looking out into the distant, causing Harold to arch his brow. "It's Clara."

"I'm sorry, I'm… a bit lost here. Do you know her? She doesn't seem to know you."

John finally looked at his cousin. "My Clara. The Impossible Girl!"

If Harold was sure of one thing, he felt more confused than before. "What are you talking about?"

"We met once when we were children – she probably doesn't remember. I was only eleven at that time. She must have been seven or eight," John explained happily. "I was at the beach when I saw this girl. She was holding onto a leaf when it blew away. She started crying so I swam into the sea and got it back for her."

His cousin listened to the story and said, "And?"

"The leaf, she said that was what brought her parents together. We played together until her mother told her it was time to leave. I never saw her since."

Harold crossed his leg. "How do you know she's the same girl?"

John smiled. "I could never forget what she looked like. I knew her name."

"I take it we'll be staying in London, then? You won't return to York to sulk?" he teased.

"I don't sulk and yes, I want to see her again."

"Does this also indicate that I should request Idris to be sent here?"

"Of course! Where would I be without her!"

Harold Saxon nodded. "Very well, then and just to be clear, how are you sure she'll remember?"

"I'm sure she'll remember if I tell her the story."

Harold sighed. He thought he knew his cousin well. It seemed he was proven wrong. "What story?"

His cousin merely beamed. "Just a story about the Doctor and his Impossible Girl."