Hello! Thank you for your support and I hope you're ready for a bit of drama! ;)
Also, viewer discretion is advised - this chapter has some violent scenes.
"Miss Oswald," John said playfully as he tipped his hat before offering a hand to help her out of the carriage.
"Thank you," she said, trying her best to smile.
He studied her intently and said, "Is everything alright, Clara?"
She forced a smile. "Yes, of course."
"Are you sure – I wouldn't mind if we postpone this and I know I should have informed you earlier-" the man explained, as he held the door opened for her.
"John," she said gently. "It's nothing to be worried about."
"Ah, sir, welcome back!" said a short and plump man from behind the counter. "I see you have brought a male companion."
Clara's eyes widened at the comment and John immediately let out a nervous laugh. "You will have to forgive Strax – he sometimes has issues identifying people, isn't that right, Strax?"
"I'm terribly sorry then, sir – let me start again – I see you've brought a female companion – may I take your coat?"
Clara and John exchanged looks. "I'm not wearing one."
"Right," John cut in. "I think I will just show Clara around."
"Very well, sir," Strax replied as the two disappeared behind several bookshelves.
"I'm so sorry about that – Strax can be an oddball at times but believe me when I say he means well."
This time, gave him a genuine smile. "He seems… nice."
"He is, once you set aside his… peculiar behaviour – anyway," John said as he guided them both to the novel section. "I remember you being an avid fan of Jane Austen so here we are."
The section he had taken her to was had a small bookshelf nestled in the corner and that was where the Jane Austen novels were stacked neatly. Next to the bookshelf was a glass case containing the signed, first edition of Pride and Prejudice.
The young man couldn't help but grin when he saw the look on Clara's face.
She approached the glass case slowly and stared at it in pure amazement. "How on earth did you find this bookshop?"
He merely gave her a toothy grin before she playfully punched his arm. "Oi, that's not fair."
John held up his arms in surrender. "I actually came across this bookshop about seven years ago, while escaping from a dinner date that had gone horribly wrong."
Clara arched a brow. It was certainly amusing to imagine him running away from such a predicament. "I find it hard to believe someone like you could end up doing that."
"The woman was insane, so I paid for dinner, made my daring escape and while trying to look for a place to hide, the owner, Madame Vastra, was kind enough to let me seek refuge in her bookshop."
She giggled at his anecdote. "Who would have thought you could find a bookshop by jilting dinner."
"Who would have thought, indeed," he murmured as he stepped a bit closer. "Look, Clara, your love for Jane Austen isn't the only reason I've brought you here," he explained as his features became serious.
"Why then?"
John turned away and started pacing. "I had a chat with my cousin this morning and he has been acting suspicious for the past week – did your father tell you anything important, by any chance?"
Clara furrowed her brows, feeling confused. "No, aside from him insisting he needed to return to work, everything was normal," she answered, preferring to leave out the part where her father had asked her to meet up with John.
"I see," he murmured, still pacing around the small space. "I'm not sure what my cousin is up to but he's up to something."
"What do you mean?"
He stopped and looked at her. "I've known my cousin long enough to know that he will do anything to secure his interests – are you sure he didn't say anything to you or to your father?"
Clara approached him and placed a hand on his arm. "John, what are you trying to say?"
"I don't know, it could be nothing for all I care but it could be something – the point is, I do not want anybody to dictate your or my future."
That was when Clara remembered the reason she agreed to meet John in the first place. "Speaking of the future, there is something I must tell you," she said, voice almost breaking.
She took a deep breath and kept repeating in her mind what she wanted to say but every time she opened her mouth, no words came out.
"Clara, are you truly alright – you look pale," he said gently, placing both hands on her arms.
"No!" she snapped, breaking free from the embrace. Her eyes became watery. "Stop, stop this."
How could see break the truth to him when he was nothing but a gentleman to her. He truly deserves better.
John stepped back to give her some space.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, John."
Before he had a chance to console her, she dashed away, running out of the bookshop and instructingMr Rentford to take her home immediately.
Missy surveyed the location she had chosen. It was perfect. There were barely any windows and it could be used to cover things up quickly and easily.
"Should have used this meat factory more often," she murmured, pushing a dead pig that was hanging by a hook, with her umbrella.
A moment later, she heard the commotion coming from the back entrance and surely enough, three men with their heads covered with a black cloth were pushed into the centre of the room.
"Let me go, you bloody bastards!" one of them screamed as he struggled but he was held down by two men.
"Good job, Seb," Missy uttered as her assistant leaned against a desk in the far corner of the room, expecting things to get messy.
He nodded. "The pleasure is mine."
The woman nodded to her henchmen and they tore the black cloths away, revealing the faces of the assailants. They were temporarily blind by the sudden burst of light and took a few moments to adjust to their surroundings.
Missy smiled at all three and walked to the nearest wall and rested the umbrella there. "I hope the trip didn't faze you too much."
"Well, sweetheart, if that means spending time with you, then of course not," the largest man said, whistling as he scanned her from head to toe.
She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Joseph Parker, is it?"
"That's right, love."
She then focused her attention on the man to the right. "And you must be Andrew McGinty, so that must make him James Horsham."
"If you wanted a bit of playtime, darling, all you had to do was ask," James said, grinning wolfishly. "I don't usually go for older women, but beggars can't be choosers."
"Would have saved me a couple pounds from last night," Andrew chided, and all three men laughed.
Missy stopped pacing about and walked behind them. "You see boys, I've been told that you have been naughty boys – what did you do about one week ago?"
She signalled two other henchmen to follow her as she walked around.
Joseph, James, and Andrew exchanged looks before their leader decided to answer. "We were having drinks at a pub."
"Come on, don't be shy – you can tell me the truth – you won't receive any presents if you're on the naughty list."
Missy grabbed the end of the meat hooker chain and instructed her men to toss it over the scaffold.
"What's it to you?" Andrew asked when she finally came around.
She shrugged. "Just curious."
"Yeah, we beat some up some doctor."
Her eyes lit up. "Finally! We're getting somewhere! And why did you beat him up?"
This time, the men were completely silent.
"We got paid to beat him up-"
"Shut up, Andrew!" Joseph snapped.
Missy blew out air through her lips. "Why did you beat him up?" she repeated.
"I can tell you if you suck my-" Joseph didn't the chance to finish his sentence as Missy kicked him square in the face, and a loud cracking sound echoed, causing James and Andrew to flinch. He would have fallen to the ground if he still wasn't being held down by her henchmen.
Instead of screaming and crying in pain, the burly man laughed. "I like it when a woman plays rough."
"Alright, let's try this again, you were paid to beat him up – who paid you? Andrew, would you like to be a good student and answer the question?"
The man looked conflicted as he kept glancing at Missy and Joseph. "Don't know."
"James?" she inquired, giving him a chance to spare himself.
The young man smirked. "Do I get you in my bed in return?"
Missy let out a mocking sigh before she walked behind them again. "Last chance, Joseph."
He merely laughed. "My offer still stands – suck my – AAAAAAHHHHHH," he screamed when a large meat hook was stabbed in his left shoulder. He was then hoisted up into the air. Blood spattered everywhere and even sprayed onto James and Andrew.
They stared in horror as their friend was hanging in the air, screaming in pain.
Joseph tried to remain as still as possible so that his suffering would lessen.
"Give me the name."
She received no answer, so she decided to gently push him forward, earning another scream.
"Name."
For the second time he refused to answer, Missy twirled him around, smiling as she did so. The screams were like music to her ears and she was willing to do this for however long it took. Finally, she stopped and told her men to drop the hook.
Joseph fell to the floor, crying in pain.
"Who would like to go next?"
At this point, the two men were shivering in fear. They were too horrified and shocked to respond so she decided to ask the question one more time.
"The name of the man who hired you, please."
"H-Harold… S-Saxon," James said, shivering violently. He dreaded to think of the confessions he'll let out if he was given the same treatment as Joseph.
"Is this true, Andrew?"
He merely nodded, fearing that if he spoke, he would get stabbed with a hook.
Missy grinned. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Both shook their heads.
"Once I walk out of this room, I never ever want to see your ugly mugs again – go to America, another planet, for all I care but if I see even a hair of you, I will be more than happy to take you here again."
She grabbed her umbrella and headed for the exit.
"Do what you wish to them, but don't kill them – just dump them somewhere outside of London."
It had been exactly five days. Five days since Clara Oswald made a fool of herself. She clearly wasn't brave enough. For the past three days, she had been locked up in her room. She felt guilty for the way she treated John but any attempts by him to see her were rejected. He had even written her a letter, apologising.
What on earth is he apologising for? She should be the one seeking forgiveness, not him.
To add more conflict, today would be the day John Smith would meet her father. He would be here any moment and she felt anxious.
A knock coming from the door startled her and a moment later, her grandmother entered the room. "Dr Smith is here."
That was all Clara needed to hear before she raced out of her room and down the stairs. The moment John stepped inside, she embraced him tightly.
His body tensed. "Clara," he whispered. "My ribs."
"Sorry," she murmured and pulled away.
"Don't be."
"What do you mean Dr Smith is here?" they heard Dave say as he slowly climbed down the stairs. "Ah, Dr Smith, what brings you here - I don't recall requiring your service."
John and Clara glanced at one another. "This is a different matter," he answered.
Dave gave him a hard stare before he nodded. "Very well, we can discuss this in my study."
"So, what is this all about?" he asked, shutting the door, once Clara and John were in.
"Mr Oswald, the reason I came here is that," John said, waiting for Clara's approval as she nodded. "I wish to marry your daughter."
There was nothing but absolute silence in the room. Hearing a pin drop would be an understatement.
"I beg your pardon?"
"John and I wish to marry," Clara stated, as she wrapped her arm around John's and held his hand.
Dave shook his head. "Is this… is this some sort of prank?"
"Mr Oswald, I'm in love with your daughter, and I meant it when I said I would like to make an honest woman out of her."
Dave slumped down on the leather chair, his brain processing what he had heard.
"Please, father, you've been eager for me to get married and I wish to marry John."
He placed a hand to his mouth, staring at the fireplace before he rose and said, "No, I will not allow this – this man is twenty years your senior!"
Clara tried her best to remain calm.
"Why can't you just respect my wishes for once – John Foreman is a good man – he will take good care of you-"
"Dr Smith is also a good man!" she snapped. "What's wrong if I decide to be his wife?!"
"Clara," John whispered, trying to get her to calm down. "Mr Oswald, if you could just-"
Dave shook his head. "I will not have it! You will marry John Foreman and that is final – I just want what is best for you, Clara, please, I'm old and dying – if you love me, you will marry him."
An ultimatum.
She froze. She would have to choose between her father and John. Without another word, she raced out of the study, tears wetting her cheeks.
"Clara!" John yelled, racing after her but stopping at the corridor.
"Get out. I never wish to see you set foot in this house again," Dave uttered.
The very next morning, at exactly sunrise, Clara Oswald left the Oswald mansion quietly, without anyone's knowledge, not even Mr Rentford knew.
The household was in a state of panic when nobody was able to find her.
"Clara!" Dave yelled as he ran all over the estate looking for her.
Clarice stared at her son from inside the house before she straightened her shoulders. If only her son would listen.
She knew exactly where her granddaughter was headed, and somebody would have to bring her back. She searched for Mr Rentford and found him outside the estate gates.
"Mr Rentford," she called.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered.
"I want you to seek Dr Smith – I know where Clara is going," she explained. "I'm certain she's travelling to Blackpool. Tell him to run after her – he's the only one who can make her see sense."
"Lethbridge Cemetery – that is where she will likely go to."
Henry nodded before he raced off to the carriage.
"And hurry! She might still be at the station!"