Invasive Species

3

Four days into Matilda's career as a normal teenager, and her morale was attacked by an almighty rainstorm. The south coast was plunged into overcast darkness as clouds marched across the blue sky and emptied themselves in buckets across the city. Overcome by weather-induced lethargy, Mattie leant on the canteen table and stared out of the rippling window at the storm and the trees outside. The rain was so appalling, and had been appalling all night, that she'd scrounged a lift to school early that morning in the van with Clara and the Doctor. Branches smacked violently against the glass as she picked at her lukewarm pasta, struggling to find the appetite to eat any of it; she'd never been a huge fan of tomato.

"I remember this big typhoon coming over Kobe once, when I was little. I thought our building was going to fall down," Aki said, watching Mattie stare out of the window. They were friends, it seemed, after Mattie's awkward first day. It felt like a miracle to be able to talk to somebody who wasn't an adult, somebody younger than she was, who wasn't constantly telling her how concerned they were for her wellbeing. Not that she resented people caring about her, but it was refreshing to be around somebody who wasn't bending over backwards to keep her in good spirits. Aki didn't eat the school food, she always brought a packed lunch made by her culinary-minded father; sometimes the Doctor was known to make packed lunches, but not so far that week. Mattie hoped she'd get offered one the next time Thirteen deigned to make some; maybe she could ask for one every day when mushy pasta was being served? "Ryusei was just a baby, he cried all night."

"How old is he?"

"Eight. He was only two when we moved to England."

"I sometimes wish I had a sibling…" she said thoughtfully. She said that, but she was mostly distracted thinking about what was for dinner: Thursday night was, she had been told that morning, Fajita Night. She'd also been told the Doctor would be glad to have her help cooking everything, since Clara was fatally useless when it came to anything related to the kitchen.

"No, you don't. It's like I'm an unpaid babysitter half the time," she complained, "I always have to watch him when dad's watching the shop." Mattie had deduced that Aki and Ryusei's mother wasn't in the picture anymore, but didn't see the need to pry into that. It surely wasn't a good story, not any more than her talking about her dead parents would be. "You know Steph's staring at you?"

"What? Who's Steph?" Mattie sat up, confused.

"Stefani Kaczmarek. To my left, next table," Aki said, "With all those girls." It was a table clustered with what Matilda would describe as the 'popular girls' if she watched too many films about high school life rather than actually experiencing it for herself – which she had, so for all intents and purposes, it was a table clustered with popular girls. They were pretty and indistinguishable from one another.

"Which one is the one you're talking about?"

"The one who has the braces," said Aki, "The blonde one who clearly isn't a natural blonde."

"I don't think any of them are natural blondes," said Matilda, feeling her lazy eye start to stray off course. She looked down at her plate of pasta again, then made a noise of annoyance and pushed it away from her. "Do you want some pasta?" she asked Aki.

"Nope. Do you want some sashimi?"

"Uh…"

"It's salmon."

"No, thanks."

"I've got some onigiris left?"

"What're they?"

"Rice balls. These ones have chicken in them," she said, pointing them out in her tupperware container with her chopsticks. Mattie was debating whether she wanted to try an onigiri or not, when Aki swore. "Shit, she's totally coming over."

"What?" But Aki didn't say anything else, just buried her head the rest of her sashimi and tried not to draw attention to herself. The girl with the braces and the bleached-blonde hair came gliding over from her 'popular' table, the other girls hardly paying any notice and still talking amongst themselves. Mattie was terrified she was about to find herself bullied by some cliché mean girl.

"Hi," said the girl, sliding into the seat next to Matilda, "You're cute."

"I'm… what?"

"Cute."

"Right… what?"

"C-U-T-E."

"Oh. Thanks. That's great. Can I help you with anything?" She desperately wanted Aki to say something to rescue her from whatever was going on. Was this what bullying was like? She shuffled as far away from the girl as she possibly could – then realised she did know the girl, they had maths together, and science. She was generally seen in the company of a taller boy whose name escaped Matilda.

"I don't know, can you?"

"Um…"

"Are you going to eat this?" She nodded at Mattie's cold pasta.

"No," Mattie said, "It's kind of gross."

"You're Matilda, right?"

"Yeah."

"Does anyone call you Tilly?"

"No. It's Mattie."

"I'm Steph. Can I have this?" She indicated the pasta again.

"I, uh… I guess so." Maybe the bell would ring for the end of lunch and she could escape to form with Pickman and Chapel again. She slid the tray of pasta towards her and started eating it, apparently not caring that it was cold and disgusting.

"I saw something weird this morning," she said, "I saw this van, this really old, decrepit, camper van. The kind they made a hundred years ago." Mattie's blood ran cold; she knew where this was going. "And it's weird, because I saw you get out of it, even though I'm sure that van belongs to Dr and Mrs Hotswald."

"Sorry, did you call them 'Hots-wald'?"

"They're hot," Steph said, indifferent.

"Were you in their car?" Aki now finally said something.

"Well, um…" She hadn't yet explained her living situation to anybody, not even Aki. She didn't want anybody to treat her differently because she happened to live with two teachers.

"They're my form tutors," Steph said, eating more of the pasta, "And you definitely were in their car."

"I thought you come to school on a bike?" asked Aki.

"I do, but it was raining this morning, so they offered me a lift," she said very uneasily.

"Do you live near them?" Steph persisted.

"I… suppose you could say that…"

"Where do they live?" she asked like it was an urgent matter.

"In Brighton," said Matilda.

"Well, obviously in Brighton. What's their address?"

"Why do you want to know their address?"

"So I can go see their house."

"But… why would you want to?"

"Because they are hot."

"I don't think they're that, um…" she didn't know what to say.

"Well? It's a bit dodgy, getting a lift with them, isn't it? What would your parents say?" Steph said, touching a nerve – though she can't have known she touched it.

"They are my, erm… I mean, they… they're my legal guardians," she said.

"They're what?" Aki exclaimed.

"Just – they were friends of my parents. Before my parents… you know."

"You live with them?" Aki continued.

"Yeah, alright, I live with them," she finally admitted.

"Can I come over to your house?" Steph asked suddenly.

"What? No! I don't even know you."

"Yes you do, I'm Steph. We have maths together. I'm sure they'd love to see me."

"I don't think they would, actually," said Matilda.

"Do you actually live with them? It's not a joke?" Aki implored.

"No, it's not a joke. Yes, I live with them… don't advertise it though, alright? I don't want people thinking I'll, I don't know, get them in trouble for things just because I live with teachers," she said quickly.

"Are they just as hot at home as they are at school?" Steph asked.

"I'm not sure that question really makes sense…"

"What are they like?" Aki asked.

"Good, I guess. I don't know. I've known them my whole life, really, I couldn't say," she shrugged.

"Do you know how Mrs Oswald got that weird scar?" Aki pressed.

"No, not really, nobody's ever told me."

"Have you ever seen them kiss?" Steph continued to pester her with increasingly inappropriate questions.

"I – probably? Why does that matter?"

"Could you take a photo next time they do?"

"No! What's wrong with you?"

"There's no need to be homophobic," Steph quipped.

"I'm not being homophobic, but that's just really… not right. They're your teachers, you should respect them."

"Does Mrs Oswald let you call her by her first name?"

"Call her 'Clara', you mean? Of course she does. I've never called her 'Mrs Oswald.'"

"How much would I have to pay you to give me her phone number?"

"Nothing!"

"So you'd do it for free?"

"No, I won't do it," Mattie said firmly, "What do you want to text her for, anyway?"

"Ask her about poetry…" Steph said wistfully.

"You can just ask her about poetry in person."

"Love poetry."

"I don't think she'd reply, to be honest."

"I can be very persuasive," she said, leaning close to Matilda, but her breath smelt like the stale tomatoes of the pasta and made Mattie cough a little.

"Then why don't you 'persuade' her to give you her phone number herself? That way she can tell you no, and not me," Mattie remarked. Steph laughed.

"I've been trying all week! I need to employ other tactics. How about you go out with me?"

"Excuse me!?"

"Like, be my girlfriend."

"N-no! I don't really, you know – I don't – I'm not – girls aren't really, um-"

"Well, we can pretend."

"Why?"

"So that I can come over to your house, and then… you know."

"Do you want to spy on them…? Is that it?"

"Look, I'll break up with Hannah for you."

"Who's Hannah?"

"HANNAH!" Stehp suddenly shouted across the room at the table of 'popular girls', catching the attention of one who – if Matilda squinted – bore the most minute resemblance to Clara Oswald; at least, her hair was brown. "It's over between us. Sorry. I've got a new girlfriend now." She indicated Matilda.

"Um, no, you really don't," said Mattie, fumbling when she tried to pick up her bag, nearly tripping over her own feet as she escaped from the table, "I've got to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Form, or something." Aki hastily packed away what was left of her lunch so that she could follow. Checking the wall clock, Mattie saw there were nearly ten minutes until the end of lunch, so she'd be stuck waiting outside of the classroom for a while. But she'd rather be there than in the company of Steph for one second longer. At the table across the room, Hannah had burst into tears and was being comforted by the other girls.

"I'll see you in maths tomorrow, Mattie," she called as Matilda fled the canteen. Aki was quick on her heels once she was out of the hall, away from the rainstorm and away from Steph.

"Is there something wrong with that girl?" Matilda asked Aki once she rejoined her.

"Probably lots of things," Aki said, "I wouldn't worry about it, she seems to find a new girlfriend or boyfriend every week."

"And I'd rather not be one of them…" Mattie grumbled.

"So… they're your guardians? The Oswalds?"

"Yeah, they are. I would've said, but I didn't know if it'd make everyone hate me, or something like that."

"Why would it? Most people like them," said Aki, "There's worse teachers people could find out you live with. What are they like?" Mattie didn't say anything. "I don't mean in a creepy way, like Steph. I like the Doctor, she's a good teacher."

"They're… they're great, really. They're nice. Funny. Kind of nerds." She began to walk off down the corridors after taking a few deep breaths and reorganising her thoughts. They were going to be ridiculously early to form at this rate.

"They're teachers, of course they're nerds."

"Says the biggest nerd in this entire school."

"Are you going to take Steph up on her offer?"

"Her offer of what? Coming to my house to stalk the Oswalds?"

"No, of, like, going out with her."

"No! I don't like girls. Not like that."

"I guess if you did you'd've worked it out by now. Living with them."

"Well, exactly. And even if I did – I don't even know her! And breaking up with someone right in the canteen in front of everybody?"

"Yeah, that's a bit mean to Hannah… I heard she's liked Steph for ages."

"You 'heard'? From who?"

"From… people just say things around me sometimes," she mumbled, "I think some of them think I can't speak English."

"Why would they think that? You speak perfect English," Mattie said, "You speak it better than I do, and I only speak English."

"Not for much longer I hope, Matilda," said Miss Pickman curtly, sweeping around the corner in that way she had a habit of doing. They met right outside the door into the French classroom, Mattie displeased at the prospect of half an hour of form in there and then a solid hour of French. Conjugations – could anything be more bland? "Not if I have anything to do with it. Shouldn't you two be eating lunch?"

"We just… really like form," said Matilda awkwardly. Aki didn't say a word, as was her habit around basically every teacher; maybe that was why people thought she didn't speak English.

"Really? I see. Clara put you up to this, has she? Don't think I don't know."

"Don't think you don't know what…? What would Clara put me up to?"

"How should I know?"

"Because… you're the one who accused me of being up to something…? I'm just trying to avoid somebody in the canteen…"

"Oh. Well. That's no way to make friends."

"I don't want to be her friend," said Matilda. This was a bizarre exchange, quite frankly.

"Well. Seeing as you're here, you might as well come in," Pickman opened the door into the classroom and let them both through, "You know, as your form tutor, I am responsible for your wellbeing in the school. If you're being bullied-"

"I'm not being bullied," said Matilda quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Because if you are being bullied-"

"Do I seem like somebody who'd be bullied?"

"A vulnerable young girl-"

"Vulnerable?"

"Don't keep interrupting me," she snapped suddenly, dropping a heavy folder onto her desk at the front of the room, "It's very rude. I'm merely concerned about how well you're adjusting. But you'd do well to drop that attitude."

"I have an attitude?"

"Yes!" Pickman waved a hand at her impatiently, "That attitude. Those questions." Aki went and sat down in her usual place, the corner at the back of the room, in total silence. Mattie was reduced to this bombardment from Pickman. "If you must know, I'm having a very bad day, and an insolent teenager is the last thing I need. Especially when I'm only trying to help." She suddenly seemed close to tears. Mattie tried to look to Aki for some help, but Aki's eyes were glued to her notebook again.

"Um… I'm sorry, Miss. Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be alright!?"

"You just said you're having a bad day…"

"Just go and sit down and do some reading. You'll be lucky I don't put you in detention tonight for the way you've spoken to me." Mattie couldn't see that she'd done anything wrong, but certainly did not want to argue and get herself in more trouble. If she got in detention for this, Clara would be dragged into things, and that wouldn't be ideal. She went to sit next to Aki in the corner and tried her best not to say a single word for the rest of the foreseeable future.

Unfortunately, while Matilda stopped herself from making any sounds, she couldn't stop her phone. It buzzed in her pocket, a message from Clara, asking if she wanted a lift home that evening too since the raining was only supposed to get worse. She had brought her bike with her in the back of the van, in case it let up, but didn't think she wanted to brave the storm that afternoon. Pickman cleared her throat loudly.

"No phones out during form time."

"Well, it's still lunch, technically," Mattie began.

"Right – you're getting on my last nerve today. You're staying back after school. Detention. And put your phone away."

"Yeah… it's just, it's Mrs Oswald? Asking if I want a lift home? So if I've got a detention, I should really let her know."

Pickman paused, thinking, clenched her jaw, "…I suppose since this is your first incident, I'll let you off. No need to go running to other members of staff, is there?" After hastily letting Clara know that she would like a lift home, she stuck her phone back in her pocket and resigned herself to not saying another word for an hour and a half.

She succeeded, too, apart from mumbling a few choice French phrases she hadn't a hope of understanding; there was something about foreign languages that just went straight over her head. It was an immense relief when she was finally able to escape Miss Pickman's classroom and the tyranny of the languages department, to go to a science lesson with Mr McCloud. She thanked god every day that she wasn't forced to have Mr Chapel for science; he was bad enough for form, even if he only seemed to show up half the time.

But there was one newly-discovered detriment to science lessons: the presence of Stefani Kaczmarek. Even worse was the fact that she again managed to seize the stool next to Matilda, after apparently being ostracised from her own friend group following the incident with Hannah over lunch.

Mattie was in the middle of talking to Aki about their nightmarish French lesson when Steph slid into the next chair in the back corner of the room – which was where Aki preferred to sit no matter which lesson she was in.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Steph asked, already marking her territory by getting out a very vibrant array of neatly-organised stationary. It was at this point Matilda realised she didn't have a choice in the matter.

"What about your other friends?" Mattie asked, nodding at the gaggle of girls on the other side of the room; they were flocking around the very wounded Hannah, eyes red and swollen from sobbing all afternoon. They shot a glare in Steph's direction every now and then – and, subsequently, Mattie's direction.

"I'm not close with them," Steph shrugged, "Melissa, the tall one, she's still not forgiven me for dumping her before summer. Guess I'm looking for some new blood. I can't sit with the boys, either, because Jake's in a mood with me. And because his friend, Ewan, was my summer boyfriend." She sure did seem to get around, leaving chaos in her wake and a long line of people who wanted nothing to do with her.

"And you dumped him, too?"

"No. He broke up with me – told me I have a 'porn habit', can you believe it?"

"I can," said Mattie, and Steph laughed like she was the funniest person in the world; it just made Mattie distrust her even more, and she wrapped her hand around her phone in her pocket to stop Steph from trying to snatch it and steal Clara's mobile number.

"Cute and funny. You're a winning combination."

Mattie didn't know what to say, still supremely uncomfortable. McCloud called for them all to settle down, rescuing her from having to come up with another way to rebuff Steph, and got everyone focused on the task at hand: GCSE Physics. They were looking at the light spectrum, and later, red shift. Mattie happened to think red shift was quite interesting and decided to spend her afternoon focusing all of her attention on outer space, rather than Steph's presence.

But Steph herself had other ideas, and wouldn't stop badgering Mattie every time they got a few moments of silence in which they were meant to be completing the various work sheets McCloud was handing out. All of her questions were about Clara and the Doctor, varying in how inappropriate they were, and Mattie managed not to answer a single one. She really couldn't start giving out personal information about them, and definitely not to this crude girl she barely knew. She'd rather everybody hated her than betray the Oswalds – she was still indescribably grateful they'd opened their home and arms to her so warmly after the summer's tragedies, and as well as that, she'd known them her entire life. They were among the circle she used to refer to her as her aunts and uncles, her extended family, everyone from the old days of the TARDIS before she was born. Well, everyone save for Jenny, whom she'd always called her cousin for whatever reason.

"I'm not going tell you stuff about them," Mattie said firmly as the lesson drew to a close and she was a small percentage more knowledgeable about the mysteries of the universe than she had been an hour ago, "It's rude. To them."

"But they're my form tutors, so they're basically in loco parentis. Do you understand what that means?" Steph persisted, picking up her bag as the bell signalling the end of the day ran, "It means they basically are my parents. They're the closest thing I've got!"

"Apart from your actual parents, you mean?" the tall boy Mattie often saw in Steph's company interrupted, approaching and apparently leaving his other friends behind.

"Zamknij się, Jakub," Steph snapped at him. Mattie hadn't a clue what she'd just said or in what language.

"Bądź miły," he said smoothly, "Sorry about her. Is she being annoying?"

"Don't talk to him," Steph continued, "He has to ruin everything."

"She's new, you're gonna traumatise her," he continued.

"I am not. Are you traumatised, Matilda?"

"A bit."

"Wow! Do you see what you've done, Jake? Poisoned her against me."

"You poison everybody against yourself," he said. Mattie realised they must be related; there was a passing resemblance between them, the same pale skin, face shape and eye colour, even if Steph did bleach her hair. And they were both speaking whatever language it had been. "We're gonna miss our train, hurry up." Steph glared at him but followed. Aki remained her usual quiet self, hanging around behind Matilda while Matilda was itching to get away. The rainstorm continued to wail outside, and she didn't want to risk opening an umbrella in it.

"Are you walking home?" Steph went back to what she'd been doing all lesson: bothering Mattie.

"I, uh… no… I'm getting a lift…"

Her eyes lit up like Christmas morning, "Really? Where do you live? Maybe you live near us – you could give me and Jake a lift."

"A lift? With who?"

"With the Hotswalds," Steph explained.

"You've got to leave them alone, they'll boot you into another form," he warned, "They've done it before when people are arseholes to them."

"Fuck you. I'm not an arsehole."

"Why're they giving you a lift?" Jake (she thought that was his name) asked.

"She lives with them. They're her legal guardians. It's crazy," Steph said. "Could you imagine?"

"That's cool," he said, "They're alright. For teachers."

"They're more than alright, they're the best teachers in this entire, shit school," said Steph, as they all moved towards the exit. It was worryingly easy to forget that Aki was even there. "Can't I get your number at least, Mattie?"

"Mine? Well-"

"Stop bothering her," Jake shook his head, "This is why everyone dumps you." Steph elbowed him, which was very easy to do in the crush of students all rushing to escape the confines of the building. Mattie had half a mind to wait an extra ten minutes at the end of the day for the corridors to empty out a little, just to avoid all this chaos.

"Really, though, where do you live?"

"That's the hundredth time you've asked me where I live today," Mattie said, "And I still won't tell you."

"We live in Hanover. Do you live near Hanover?"

"Not particularly," said Mattie truthfully, "So you definitely won't be offered a lift." That was less truthful, Clara liked driving and probably wouldn't mind trekking all the way to Hanover – though, maybe not with unruly students of hers in tow.

Once they finally burst forth through the front doors they were assailed from all sides by the tremendous storm, battered and pelted by rain drops the size of bullets.

"I'll talk to you later?" Mattie said to Aki, who only nodded.

"Can't I come for dinner? We could have a sleepover, like kids do?" Steph continued to suggest.

"I tell you what – I'll ask, but I guarantee the answer is 'no,'" said Matilda, then she finally cut out of the crowd to slip around the other side of the building to go towards the staff carpark. Finally free of teenagers, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and walked straight into the rain. And then somebody grabbed her shoulders from behind and scared the crap out of her.

"Boo!"

Mattie jumped. It was Clara, and she proceeded to hold up her hand and telekinetically block the rain from hitting them; typically, both she and the Doctor – who trailed behind her carrying their books – were bone-dry.

"Why would you do that?"

"Funny?" Clara suggested, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, "I'm cold."

"Well, I'll put the heating on when we get home," Clara smiled, taking her car keys out of her jacket pocket and aiming them at the bright-blue, rain-streaked Volkswagen at the edge of the staff lot. It was a relief to get in the van and out of the poor weather. It was meant to become a thunder storm by five o'clock that evening, the forecasts said.

"Do you know Steph Kaczmarek?" Mattie asked once Clara had started the engine and begun driving the three of them home, leaning forwards over the front seats so she didn't find herself alienated from the conversation.

"Yes," said Clara, "She's in our form. Why?"

"Do you know she fancies you?" The Doctor laughed, but Clara just sighed.

"I'm very aware of it, yes."

"It's hard not to be," said the Doctor.

"She's in my science and maths lessons," said Mattie, "She found out I live with you. So now everyone will probably find out."

"Were you hiding it?" Clara was surprised.

"Well, no, not hiding it…"

"What's the matter? Are you ashamed of us?" the Doctor asked.

"Not you."

"Just Clara? I get that," she nodded understandingly.

"Hey!" Clara protested.

"What? You think I like people knowing I live with you?"

"We're married."

"And I wish you wouldn't advertise it – it's embarrassing enough being associated with you," she said. In retaliation for that, Clara switched on the old-fashioned tape-deck and a song started to blast halfway through; it was right where it had been stopped after they'd arrived that morning.

"Why do you listen to all this weird, old music?" Mattie questioned.

"The whole scene is obscene, time will strip it away, a year and a day," the tape-deck crackled.

"This isn't an old song, it's The Libertines," Clara said.

"It's from 2002," said the Doctor, "Sixty years ago."

"All you listen to is…"

"Garage rock," the Doctor answered.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, when you get a car of your own and chauffeur us around, you're more than welcome to put whatever weird music the 'kids today' listen to," Clara told her curtly, "Though, for the record, none of the tapes are mine – so you'd be better off rowing with the Doctor."

"It's an Inbetweeners mixtape, get out of my life," the Doctor snapped at her. Clara shook her head.

"You two are living in the past."

"We'll take you there someday," the Doctor promised her, "Show you what London-town suburbia looked like when your parents grew up. 2005 – I can practically smell the looming financial crisis on the air. Congestion charge, smoking ban, underpasses and phone boxes that smell of wee. All the stuff that makes the turn of the century so… pungent. Tube TVs. PlayStation 2. Britney Spears. Can't you feel the vibes?"

"Your vibes sound notably eclectic."

"Nah, she's bang on," said Clara.

"Oyster cards, ringtones. The Euro. Blackberries."

"I had a Blackberry," said Clara.

"That's my point."

"All sounds old and depressing," said Mattie.

"Is Steph bothering you? I'll tell her off if she is," Clara changed the subject.

"She'd probably enjoy it. She's really obsessed with you, keeps asking me for your phone number."

"You didn't give her it, did you?" Clara asked.

"No! Of course not. But – it's borderline stalking."

"Just try and ignore her, she's not so bad," Clara said.

"Isn't she?"

"No," Clara said firmly. "Besides, she reminds me a lot of me, when I was her age. I worry about her."

"You worry about everybody, Coo," Thirteen said. They pulled up to a red traffic light and the car stopped while the songs continued – they all sounded identical, and like they were being played inside a tin can. The Doctor was enjoying them, though, tapping her hands on the dashboard to what little rhythm Matilda could detect.

"…I almost got a detention."

"What? Who from? What did you do?" Clara asked quickly, the Doctor turning in the passenger seat to scrutinise Matilda directly.

"Nothing, I didn't do anything," she argued, "It was from Pickman."

"Sarah?"

"I left lunch early, and outside form she started having a go at me and said she thought I was up to something. She thought it was something to do with you. Then she told me I have an attitude for asking questions, and almost got me to stay behind after school."

"That's unprofessional," the Doctor muttered.

"Sarah's just upset today, sweetheart," Clara explained. "Her cats have both gone missing, Louis and Marie."

"Awful names," the Doctor said, "Way to romanticise the villainous bourgeoisie. It's like everybody's forgotten about the guillotines."

"They're cats. Not reincarnations of the actual French aristocracy."

"They might be."

"Well, whatever – they're cats, and they're missing, so she's upset. I wouldn't read anything into her snapping at you, Matts. She's unprofessional, like the Doctor said, but it's not to do with you personally."

"She still hasn't talked to us about drugs."

"Don't do any drugs," Clara said firmly, pushing the accelerator, "Or we'll kick you out."

"Would you?"

"Well… no, probably not, we'd try to help you break the habit and resolve your issues. But don't do any drugs."

"I mean, I'll try, but I can't make any promises."

"That's all we can ask," said the Doctor.

"Would you ever kick me out?"

"Probably not," said Clara, "Unless you came out as gay. Not having any gays under my roof."

"We'd kick you out if you adopted right-wing politics," said Thirteen.

"Really? So if I say, like, I hate poor people, you'd get rid of me?"

"You'd be out on the streets. Homeless."

"Wouldn't that make you right-wing? If you're contributing to homelessness?"

"You'd deserve it," said Clara, "I'd back her up."

"Does Steph really remind you of you?" Mattie asked a solid three hours later, after she'd already been made to help the Doctor chop up chicken and vegetables to make fajitas. Clara, of course, hadn't done a thing to help – though, the Doctor said that Clara staying as far away from the kitchen as possible was a help in and of itself. But Rose Tyler had decided she was joining them for dinner that evening, showing up on the doorstep with a load of chocolate she'd managed to 'find' somewhere on the TARDIS. Clara and the Doctor were more than happy to take the chocolate in exchange for a seat at the table – and the Doctor always seemed to make too much food, anyway.

"Who's Steph?" Rose interrupted.

"This girl at school," Mattie explained, "She fancies Clara." Rose rolled her eyes, biting into her fajita wrap.

"She's very chaotic and sleeps around," Clara said, "And is very obvious about it. I was the same, until the Doctor made an honest woman out of me."

"Credit where credit's due," said Thirteen.

"Is that boy related to her?" Mattie continued.

"Jakub?" asked the Doctor. Mattie nodded. "They're twins."

"They were talking to each other in a different language."

"They're Polish."

"Everyone seems to be bilingual except me…" Matilda complained, glumly returning to her fajita.

"That's because you're English," Rose told her, "Everyone knows English people can only speak English. It's why everyone else hates us."

"And because of imperialism," the Doctor added, "And colonisation, slavery, genocide, theft, destroying foreign cultures under the guise of trying to 'civilise' them."

"Keep it in the classroom, you'll bore me to death," Rose said with her mouth full. "What were we talking about before? How Clara likes schoolgirls?"

Clara dropped her fajita on her plate, "I do not," she declared firmly, horrified. "I'm married to someone significantly older than me. And she even looks older than me."

"What? No I don't," Thirteen argued, "You're the old one."

"I think you look about the same," Mattie shrugged.

"Yeah, but, what about Ashildr? She's, what, sixteen? And you slept with her," said Rose.

"You slept with a sixteen-year-old!?" Mattie exclaimed.

"No! First of all, Ashildr is immortal, she only looks young; second of all, she was made immortal by Old Twelvey when she was eighteen, not sixteen; and third of all, I never had anything to do with her, it was Ravenwood who went out with her. Which she's now forgotten, because of… reasons," Clara argued.

"Clara Ravenwood got with a girl who looks eighteen?" Mattie asked, "You really are like Steph…"

"Even Jenny looks quite young, wouldn't you say?" Rose joked, "I reckon she could get away with pretending to be twenty."

"I suppose that's something you and Jenny don't have in common, then," Clara quipped.

"Excuse me? Are you saying I don't look twenty?" Clara shrugged. "I could if I wanted, you know. I control the universe. I can change my age at will."

"Then why don't you change it to something a bit more flattering?"

Rose scoffed and faltered, but was rendered unable to think of anything additional to say as a retort, "Well… piss off, Clara." Clara smiled smugly as she went back to eating her food. Rose shook her head. "Anyway. Matts. Has your first week been going okay? Do you have any friends?"

"I have this friend who likes Esther," Mattie said.

"Esther?" Rose frowned.

"The Lightning Girl, I mean. She draws these comic book style pictures of her, I keep trying to get her to send me them so I can show Esther. She'd think they were cool. She's Japanese."

"Who? Esther?"

"Of course not Esther, why would you think Esther was Japanese?" the Doctor asked.

"It was just the way she phrased it, I don't know… you skived any lessons yet?"

"No. Can you do that?"

"No," said Clara firmly, "You must not skive lessons."

"You can definitely skive lessons, school's not really important."

"Maybe not for an unemployed space hobo with absolutely no aspirations. Don't skive, Mattie. I'll find out if you do, I know all your teachers. I see them in the staff room every day."

"I always used to skive lessons," Rose shrugged, "Me and my mate, Keisha. We'd always come in late because we'd be out clubbing the night before."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen, fifteen," Rose shrugged.

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Mattie, laws are just made up by boring people."

"I agree, but don't listen to her," the Doctor advised, "You're not skipping school and going clubbing."

"Did you go to school with dad?" Mattie asked Rose.

"No, no. We didn't properly meet until he moved onto the Estate."

"Didn't he grow up there?"

"No. In Peckham, yeah, but not the Estate, about ten minutes away. He got a council flat, in, god…" she paused and leant back in her chair, thinking, "2004? Because… must have been about that, because I knew him properly for about a year before the Doctor showed up… he was twenty-one when we met, I was eighteen."

"I wonder what mum was like at school…"

"You could ask your aunt?" Clara suggested.

"Yeah," Rose nodded, "Tish'll love to talk to you about Martha. Why don't you ring her?"

"I'm not ringing her, she's basically deaf, she shouts down the phone."

"She's your family," said Clara, "We can take you to visit, if you want. She's only in London, we wouldn't even need the TARDIS."

"How are you a teacher if you didn't do any work at school?"

"What? I did loads of work," said Clara.

"But you said you used to sleep around, like Steph."

"I'm… organised. Have good time management."

"No whoring until after she finishes her essays," Rose muttered, "You're a swot, you know."

"It's a… stress relief. I have hobbies, it's not a crime. Mattie doesn't want to listen to this over dinner. You'd think you'd be bored of ripping into me after so long…"

"I think you two are, like, the real teenagers," Mattie decided, just about at the end of her fajita.

"I agree," said the Doctor.

"Growing up is a myth," said Clara, then she nodded at her wife, "Just look at her. She's a child. Can't take my eyes off her half the time."

"I didn't realise you had much of a desire to take your eyes off me, Coo."

Rose made a retching noise, "I'm trying to eat here. You're gonna traumatise Matts if you carry on like that. She'll need therapy."

"I would like to go. Maybe," Mattie said suddenly.

"Go where?" Clara asked, "To therapy?"

"Well, you said early, back to… when mum and dad grew up."

"Go clubbing," said Rose.

"We're not taking her clubbing," Clara told Rose.

"Can we go clubbing, then? We could take Sally."

"You don't even like Sally. And you're eighty, aren't you a bit old to be throwing up sambuca in a dirty toilet while The Black Eyed Peas plays in the next room?"

"You sound familiar with the lifestyle."

"Nope, while you were throwing up, I was getting off with drunk boys and girls."

"Contracting STDs."

"But at least I wasn't the sad-case puking in the next cubicle."

"Matilda," the Doctor began very seriously, leaning towards her, "I can only stress how important it is that you never look up to either of these two women as role models. Your parents were always the most sensible and adult of us all. Any second, they're gonna start pulling each other's hair."

"I wouldn't pull her hair," said Rose, "She'd get too excited." Clara winked at her, and Rose grimaced.

"What a nice example you're both setting for an impressionable, young girl."

"I'm not impressionable," Mattie said.

"I sure hope not, else we'll have hell to pay when you start following in their footsteps. Lemme tell you, we don't have the cash to bail you out of jail if the cops pick you up for underage drinking – or worse," the Doctor advised her.

"Well, I promise not to start getting arrested until I can afford my own bail."

"That's the spirit. Now, who's for the news? I hear Esther gave a statement to the BBC about that car bomb she defused."