Trick or Treat
1
"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do," the Doctor began, talking as she tried to untangle a clump of fairy lights with green ghosts on them, "I'm gonna make a fake headstone out of cardboard and I'm gonna paint on it, 'Here Lies Clara Oswald's Dignity. 1986-1987.'"
"Why did I lose my dignity in 1987?" Clara asked as she, also, tried to untangle a different ream of fairy lights, this one with orange pumpkins.
"Soon as you said your first word. It was all downhill from there."
"And what was my first word, exactly?" Clara challenged, accidentally pulling off one of the plastic pumpkin-shaped casings from the lights and having to fidget to push it back on.
"Uh…"
"You don't know, do you?"
"Do you know?"
"Yeah, but I won't tell you."
"What? Why not?"
"Because you'll put it on my headstone," Clara said. They were sitting on the living room floor, having pushed the coffee table and many of their book stacks out of the way, surrounded by boxes full of Halloween decorations that were usually stuck under the bed in the spare bedroom. They'd previously occupied the attic until Mattie had moved in, then they'd put them – and the Christmas decorations – out of sight.
"What was it?" the Doctor implored, "Was it something bad? Was it a swear word?"
"No."
"Oh my god."
"What?"
"Was it 'Doctor'?"
"Was it 'Doctor'?" Clara repeated with disbelief, dropping the fairy lights. The Doctor shrugged. "Do people regularly say your name as their first word? And you say I have an ego... No, it was not."
"I think it was River's first word."
"Oh, your ex-wife who was brainwashed into murdering you from the day she was born? That River?" Clara asked sarcastically. The Doctor scowled at her. "Fine, fine. It was 'booby.'"
"What!?" she burst out laughing, "No way!"
"It's a very common first word!" Clara protested, "Dad used to tell this bloody anecdote to everybody, I've no idea how you haven't heard it…"
"What's the anecdote?"
"He used to say when I was ten months old my first word was 'booby' and that's how they knew I was queer," she said dryly, still unimpressed by it even though her father had passed quite a while ago now. "Which I don't believe, I don't think they had a clue until I brought a girl home. I'm feminine enough to fly under the radar."
"The gaydar."
"Funny."
"That's great, though. Go Dave. I can't believe he never told me that."
"You know he never liked you. Anyway, it's a common first word. It's where babies get all their food from."
"A behaviour you apparently never grew out of."
"Okay, Freud. I'm not even a lesbian, but fine," she muttered.
"I was right, though."
"About what?"
"About your first word being the same day you lost your dignity. So my headstone is vindicated."
"What was your first word, then?"
"Coo, I can't even remember my name or my birthday, and you think I remember one word I said 1200 years ago? I do not. What did I first say when I regenerated?"
"You asked where you were because you couldn't remember anything."
"Oh. I thought I might've, like, mumbled your name, or something."
"Well, you didn't. What do you want to do with these lights, then? Where are they going?" Clara asked now that she'd untangled her pumpkins.
"Those ones are going above the kitchen doorframe; I don't know about my ghosts. Maybe around the window? Do you think they'll reach?" Clara craned her neck to look behind her.
"I think you'll have to stand on a chair. Unless you want me to float to do it? We'll have to wait for the kids to go home in that case," Clara said.
"We should have put decorations up weeks ago," she grumbled, "I mean, come on, it's the 29th."
"I've been busy, and you said you wanted to do it together. We can leave them up for a bit next month, alright?" Clara said. She felt a little bad about being swamped with work (it was mock exams soon) and putting off decorating, but she did want them to do it together, and it had ultimately worked out.
"Well, you better mark December 1st on the calendar because there's no way I'm putting up our Christmas tree two days before Christmas. We're gonna be decked out until New Year's. I won't stand for anything less. We don't even have any pumpkins yet…"
"Alright, we have three giant, plastic pumpkins right there," Clara pointed out the trio of pumpkins stacked neatly next to the television, "And you haven't put the neon signs up yet." She had neon signs of yet another pumpkin, and yet another ghost. She had never told Clara where she had found these signs, but Clara suspected she had made them herself many years ago when she'd been bored on the TARDIS. They'd already done the garden and the front of the house, that had been the first thing to do while it was still light outside. The exterior was draped in fake cobwebs the Doctor promised were fire retardant, as well as a few ominous tombstones and a pair of skeletons with canes and bowler hats.
"We're still going pumpkin shopping tomorrow, right?" the Doctor asked her for the third time that evening, making sure that Clara hadn't changed her mind.
"Yes, after school, we will go and get pumpkins, then you can carve them and make your pie," Clara told her.
"And then on Friday?"
"You volunteered us to help set up the Halloween disco, so we're just going to be stuck at school until, like, nine o'clock that night," Clara continued to remind her of their schedule, which she was always having to do because the Doctor's memory did not work well when it came to actually having a schedule. She'd been too spontaneous for too long.
"More decorating? I can't wait! But – we're not gonna be here for the trick or treaters."
"Okay, you like Halloween too much."
"Clara, it's literally impossible to like Halloween too much."
"When will you regenerate into somebody less American?" Clara jibed, then the Doctor got distracted by something.
"I didn't get to show you my project!" she announced, getting to her feet and almost tripping over the array of cardboard boxes. Clara was immediately suspicious, not sure whether she trusted a project of the Doctor's. She tried to see what the Doctor was doing after she bounded away into the kitchen but couldn't manage it. Nevertheless, after searching a few of the cupboards she returned shortly, holding an object she presented to Clara. It was a very small model shipwreck painted with glow in the dark paint, looking sufficiently eerie.
"That's so cool! You really did make a ghost ship for the fish tank," said Clara, taking the ornament from her, "When did you do this?"
"When you're asleep. It's made of clay. He might break it." Clara thought he probably would break it, quite quickly.
"Well, we'll take a photo of it, and you can always glue it back together, right?" she smiled, giving the ship back to the Doctor.
"As long as he can wait until after Halloween to break it, so he doesn't ruin the atmosphere…" she stepped carefully around the boxes and books to get to the fish tank, where Captain Nemo lurked silently in the gloom. "I care more about aesthetics than I'd ever like to admit." She opened the top of the lobster tank, placing the ghost ship down carefully at the opposite end to where Captain Nemo was so that he didn't snap at her – which he was known to do because he could be aggressive.
"I'd say you put out quite a distinctive aesthetic most of the time, actually," said Clara, "You're wearing a baseball shirt with an alien head on it."
"Joke's on you, Coo, this isn't mine; I stole it from Jenny."
"And yet I've never seen either of you play baseball."
"You don't need to play baseball to wear a baseball shirt – get off my case." They were interrupted by a dull thud upstairs, coming from the loft. "Is it time for them to go home yet?" They had been entertaining Akiko and Stefani for most of the night because they were supposedly all working on a science presentation for Cameron McCloud. But it was now after nine on a Wednesday.
"Yes, it might be," said Clara, "Shall I go see if I can get them to leave?" She'd already committed to driving them both back home since they didn't live close-by.
"I don't like kicking people out."
"I'll kick them out, don't worry," Clara stood up, "See if you can find the neon signs and where to put them."
"I wanna get more neon signs…" she said thoughtfully, looking around at the walls. Clara didn't think there was room for anything else on their walls.
"Well, you think about that. I'll go see what they're up to…"
And what they were up to was certainly not their science project. In the dark, Mattie, Aki and Steph sat in a circle with a large bowl of water in the middle (it was the washing up bowl from the kitchen.) Mattie had also been enlisted in making up one of her fake blood concoctions, which she'd been doing quite a lot recently to prepare for her Halloween costume on Friday – she was going to the disco as a very gruesome zombie. Steph was cutting out letters she'd written on a piece of paper in a marker pen.
"What's the point of this, again?" Mattie asked her.
"To talk to spirits," she said. Aki was clearly quite uncomfortable with the whole idea.
"Like, why?"
"What do you mean? To find out what's on the other side!" Steph said, "It's like, you know, a Ouija board."
"I think Clara has a Ouija board somewhere," said Mattie. There was one in the library, she'd seen it, it had 'Sally Sparrow' written on the back in Tipex because Clara had, presumably, stolen it from Sally at some point. "Why not use that?"
"Because – Ouija boards are fake. But the water bowl game isn't fake."
"Oh, okay," said Mattie sarcastically, not remotely convinced. She rolled her eyes at Aki, but Aki was just eyeing the water very closely like a ghost might appear in it at any second. Mattie just hoped Steph didn't inadvertently agitate the ghost of Marilyn Monroe they kept in a jar in the library, who was very easily agitated. "We are supposed to be doing homework, though."
"Why don't we just, like, summon the ghost of Albert Einstein and ask him what redshift is?"
"Because that's stupid, that's why," said Mattie.
"Look, if you don't want to talk to the ghost and find out your future, you can just leave, the door's right there," Steph pointed at the bedroom door, annoyed.
"We're in my room! In my house!" she protested, "Why would a ghost know the future?"
"Why wouldn't it?"
"That doesn't make sense. What do you want to know about your future?"
"I wanna know if Clara will go out with me one day."
"She definitely won't," said Mattie.
"Maybe Aki wants to know her future."
"I don't know," said Aki, "I'd rather do the science homework. What if you summon a demon?"
"I don't think demons exist, really," said Mattie.
"Um, demons definitely exist, Matilda," said Steph knowingly.
"How do you know? Have you met one?"
"…No, but I have faith. I'm just more imaginative than you, you're boring."
"Do you still believe in Santa, too?" Mattie quipped.
"You can't just say that. What if Aki still believes in Santa?"
"Why would I?" Aki asked.
"Do you have Santa in Japan?"
"A bit. Because of America. They don't get a day off for Christmas, though, like here where it's a huge thing. Do they have Santa in Poland?"
"I was actually born here," Steph pointed out, "But yes, and they still call him Saint Nicholas, and it's everywhere. We're usually in Lodz in December because we go see dad for Chanukah and our dziadek i babcia. Don't try and distract me from the demon by asking weird questions about Poland, though."
"Is this water bowl game a Polish thing?" Mattie questioned.
"No. It's from the internet. Don't be xenophobic."
"What are-!? I'm not being – urgh. I knew it was a mistake letting you come here to do this homework…" she grumbled, "Which is due on Friday morning, and we've barely started because you've been pissing about with this bowl-"
"Shh, shh," Steph waved a hand at her, "I've finished cutting out my letters."
"Oh, great…" Mattie glanced at her desk where she'd carefully set out all of her science textbooks and laptop in preparation of this presentation they were meant to be doing on cosmic phenomenon, wishing that they could've just done it and got it all over with. Unfortunately, Steph was incredibly persistent and often insufferable.
"What do you do with the letters?" Aki asked. Steph had written the same letter on both sides of the paper so neither side was blank.
"Drop them in there, and then they spell out a word in the order they sink in," she explained.
"Is that it? You don't have to say, like, some magic words, or do a chant, or something?" Mattie asked incredulously.
"Like what? 'Abracadabra'?"
She shrugged, "I don't know, maybe."
"I told you we needed candles, but you said-"
"I said Clara won't let me have candles in my room after a… thing happened, with the blinds over the skylight…" She had accidentally set the blinds over the skylight on fire a month or so ago, and now Clara had rules imposed about naked flames.
"I'll just use my phone," said Steph, turning on the torch on her phone and then putting down on the carpet next to her. It wasn't a very good light source, quite blinding in the gloom. Then she cleared her throat. "Dear spirit-"
"So there are magic words…"
"Shut up! You're gonna ruin it, oh my god," Steph snapped at her. Mattie tried not to laugh as Steph shook her head and began her 'magic words' again, this time with more firmness. "Dear spirit. Talk to me, bring me my future, so that I may see." She dropped her pieces of paper into the water.
"Steph, that's the shittest magic spell I've ever heard in my life." Steph hit her on the arm. All three of them leant over to watch the letters as they absorbed enough water that they eventually began to sink, though it took a bit longer than they were expecting. Steph had only written out the English alphabet once, which Mattie thought was a bit of an oversight. "What do you do if the ghost wants to spell a word that uses the same letter twice?" Steph glared at her. The first letter dropped to the bottom of the washing up bowl.
"Look! 'H'!" Steph exclaimed, "H for Hannah!"
"But it can't spell Hannah, because there's only on H, one A, and one N."
"Well, I call her 'Han' sometimes," Steph argued. Remarkably, the 'A' was the next letter to sink, which took Mattie by surprise. After that though, it all fell apart, when they got a 'K', then a 'W', then 'E', then 'Q'."
"So the ghost wants to tell us… 'Hakweq'?"
"Hakweqr," said Aki when the 'R' sank, too. Then they all began dropping a little too quickly to keep track.
"Maybe we should've filmed it and, like, played it back in slow motion, or something?" Mattie suggested.
"It could be an anagram," said Steph.
"For what? 'Wakqah'? 'Qwakeh'? 'Kehwaq'? Are they Polish words?"
"No. Maybe the ghost can't read, or it's some ancient, ghost language," Steph argued, "Could be the ghost of a Victorian child from, like, two-hundred years ago. Maybe somebody died in the chimney."
"This house was built in the 2030s, it doesn't have a chimney," Mattie told her.
"Well maybe there was another house here before where a Victorian child did die, and now it's trying to communicate with us, and you're just making fun of it. You're just being, like, bigoted against dead, Victorian children. Maybe the message is for Aki and it's a Japanese word."
"It's not," said Aki, "It's definitely nonsense."
"I thought you were on my side!? I thought you were a true believer."
"I just – I'm not – I don't disbelieve, or believe, I just don't think it's a good idea to do anything that might summon a demon, on the off-chance that demons do exist and-" There was a loud bang against the skylight and they all jumped, turning to look at it. The blind wasn't drawn, and outside they could just see clouds and a glimmer of the moon, but otherwise, it was mainly shadow.
Steph lowered her voice to whisper, "Maybe that was the demon?" Mattie frowned. She thought that if anything was going to conjure a demon, it wasn't going to be Steph's weird water bowl game and stupid spell. She didn't know what the bang on the skylight had been, though. A bird flying into it? A rock? It wasn't raining. So she decided to investigate, getting to her feet slowly.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Aki, also lowering her voice.
"It's just a window," said Mattie
"If it's just a window why are you so scared?" Steph challenged.
"I'm not scared," she snapped. She was a bit scared, even though she knew the game was stupid. With the pair of them watching with bated breath, Matilda edged closer and closer to the window, trying to see if there was anything out there in the dark. What if there was a creature? She'd seen all kinds of things that could be considered demonic: she had been to the Unnameable, she'd been kidnapped by aliens, she'd seen a zombie, French aristocrat – maybe it wasn't unthinkable that there would be some sort of monster out there?
Tentatively she reached out to open the window, desperately hoping that she wasn't opening herself up to some sort of attack just because she didn't believe in Stefani's game, when-
"What are you girls up to?" Clara asked loudly, pushing open the door as quickly as possible and scaring them all to death. Steph accidentally knocked the water bowl and some of it splashed onto the floor, which caught Clara's attention. "If you want to do the washing up, you only have to ask."
"We're just doing homework," said Mattie.
"What subject?" asked Clara.
"Just… science."
"Well, make sure you put that back in the kitchen when you're done," Clara said. Mattie didn't think Clara believed her. Clara raised her voice a little like they were deaf, "Are you two about ready to go home, then?"
"What? It's not even late," said Steph, alarmed.
"It's after nine and you both have school tomorrow. And Aki has a curfew."
"But I don't," said Steph, "Can I stay?"
"No," said Mattie. She was sick of Steph's weird games.
"Matts says no," said Clara, "So it's out of my hands."
"Thanks," Steph said to Mattie, not hiding how annoyed she was.
"Come on, then," said Clara, "If you don't shift, I'll stop pretending I believe you about what you're doing with the washing up bowl. Shouldn't open the window at this time of night, moths will get in."
"I don't mind the moths, it's you who hates moths," Matilda said, leaving the window. She felt a bit silly now for thinking there was the slightest possibility that Steph might have summoned a demon.
"I'm not having you fall asleep in class tomorrow again, Steph," Clara warned.
"Where would you have me fall asleep?" Steph immediately retorted.
"Oh my god, she's not gonna go out with you," Mattie said, "Stop."
"She might!" Steph protested.
"I absolutely will not, you're being very inappropriate. Don't make me put you in whole school detention with Mr Chapel again." Steph grimaced. Nobody liked Chapel.
"I'm sixteen now."
"Well done. I'm over ten years older than you and my wife is downstairs." Clara sounded very bored by having to constantly rebuff Steph, who was utterly incapable of taking 'no' for an answer. Mattie hadn't been living with Clara and the Doctor for very long, but Steph's behaviour already reminded her of the way Clara herself couldn't go more than five minutes without flirting with Sally Sparrow when she was around.
As Steph and Aki finally made to put their shoes on, which had been unceremoniously dumped on the stairs just outside the door, the Doctor started yelling quite loudly from the living room, startling Clara most of all.
"CLARA!" she shouted.
"What's up?" Clara called back, perhaps not loudly enough for the Doctor to hear her all the way on the ground floor.
"CLARA!" she shouted even louder. Clara rolled her eyes and turned to leave the kids, who were just as confused as she was, to see what the Doctor wanted. She jumped the last few stairs to get to the first-floor landing and then leant over the bannister, the Doctor at the foot of the stairs below.
"Why are you shouting? Are you okay?"
"The lobster's got out," she said, "I don't know where he is." That was not good.
"What's going on?" Matilda then called down from the top floor where she, Aki and Steph all waited.
"The lobster's escaped," Clara replied, "You three stay upstairs, he won't hesitate about snapping anybody's toes off. And I mean that," she added in a sharper tone of voice. Hopefully, they did what she told them. It was lucky Captain Nemo would struggle to get up the stairs, if he could manage it at all. Leaving the kids, she rejoined her wife in the living room, the lid of the tank slightly ajar. "We should rename him Houdini. This is the third time this has happened."
"Sorry," the Doctor apologised sheepishly, "I must've forgotten to close the lid properly."
"It's fine. He can't have got far, and he'll be alright out of the water for a bit," said Clara. The other two times he had escaped had also been because the Doctor had forgotten to secure the lid properly, but Clara wasn't going to bring her wife's memory into question. She was already so sensitive about it. Besides, Clara wasn't particularly fond of Captain Nemo, mostly because he had snapped off one of her fingers with his claws before and waiting for it to grow back had been quite an ordeal. She couldn't say she'd shed a tear if the lobster wound up dead. "Is the back door closed?" The Doctor paused to think about this, but evidently did not know and so she turned on her heel to go check. Clara put her hands on her hips and peered about the living room for a sign of him, but suspected he'd found his way under the furniture. The main problem was that the room was full of boxes of Halloween decorations, so getting underneath the furniture was a lot trickier for them than for a crustacean.
"Door's closed," the Doctor returned, "Did you see him?"
"No… he's quite sneaky to say he's bright blue."
"This wouldn't happen if we had a dog."
"Says the person who literally stole the lobster from a restaurant," said Clara, "I'd be happier with no pets at all. We're not getting a dog."
"My other wives would've let me get a dog."
"Maybe you should've stayed married to one of them, then," Clara quipped.
"Mm, well. They're not as cute as you, so… where do you think he is?"
"Under the chairs or the sofa, probably," said Clara, "The little pest…" Maybe she would rather have a dog.
"I should go get my gloves," the Doctor decided, meaning the chainmail gloves she used to clean the lobster tank and put Captain Nemo into the bucket he occupied during the process. Unlike Clara's, the Doctor's fingers wouldn't just grow back. Well, not unless she regenerated they wouldn't, and one missing finger wasn't worth the cost of a whole regeneration. Yet again, she vanished into the kitchen, as Clara glimpsed a bright, moving shape near the armchair Rose usually occupied. It was him alright – there was no mistaking the blue.
She dove for the creature as it scurried under the TV stand. When it didn't emerge from the other side, Clara resolved he must be lurking and biding his time until he could make another escape attempt. Unluckily for Captain Nemo, with the teenagers upstairs and out of sight, Clara was free to use her telekinesis. Getting as close to the carpet as she could (which, upon doing so, she realised smelled a bit funny and needed a deeper clean), Clara peered into the shadows. A ripper claw came straight for her face and cut across her nose.
"Fuck! That's it, you little shit…" she muttered, grabbing the lobster telekinetically and dragging him out from beneath the television set. As soon as she had the chance she seized him around the middle and lifted him up. He was heavy and wet, and in her grip flailed and snapped his claws viscously. She felt blood oozing from the fresh cut across her nose, holding the lobster at arm's length and grimacing. "Doctor!" she shouted.
"Can't find my gloves, just a sec!" the Doctor called back.
"Get in here!"
The doorbell rang.
"Shit…" Clara cursed again. Her wife was not in sight, and whoever was visiting them evidently couldn't wait for a minute because they started banging on the door as well. Was she really going to have to answer the front door with an angry lobster in her hand? Captain Nemo continued to writhe and when the Doctor didn't reappear, Clara resolved that yes, she was going to have to do that.
Holding the lobster as best she could in the one hand she went into the hall, the keys left in the lock by her forgetful wife, presumably. The doorbell rang again.
"Hold on," she called, fumbling with the keys in the lock. Captain Nemo tried to twist around and get at her arm with his crusher claw, still not calming down. Finally, she was able to open the door and came face to face with one of their neighbours. "Derek, hi!" It was Derek Beckett, Hannah Beckett's father and long-time enemy of Stefani. Derek recoiled at the sight of Clara brandishing a sea creature at him, however.
"What is that!?" he was horrified.
"Just a lobster," said Clara, "Sorry about this, he's got out – Doctor!" she shouted again. The Doctor showed up, both of her hands now covered in chainmail, to relieve Clara of the lobster.
"There, there, baby," said the Doctor to Captain Nemo, "Did you want to go exploring again, huh? Did you?" She cooed at it like it was an infant, taking it out of Clara's hands. Of course he stopped writhing so much when Clara wasn't holding him anymore; she knew he had it in for her, the bastard. She wiped some of the blood away from the bridge of her nose.
"…Sorry, again," said Clara. Derek stared at her. "Is there something I can do for you…?" Somewhat rudely, he craned his neck to get a look over the top of her head to see what the Doctor was doing in the living room, carefully placing Captain Nemo back into his tank and sprinkling the water with a few bits of dried blood worm to keep him placated. Clara cleared her throat. "Derek?"
"Is that your dinner?" he asked.
"No, it's a pet," said Clara, then raised her voice to add, "But if he gets out again, I am going to eat him, mark my words."
"You will do no such thing!" the Doctor shouted back, "It's not his fault; he's misunderstood."
"He doesn't even have a brain, sweetheart."
"Don't you be so rude to our son."
"Oh my god…" Clara shook her head, "Right, Derek, did you need something?" They had never received a house call from Hannah's parents before. She wouldn't have recognised him at all if it wasn't for parent's evenings.
"I wanted a word with you," he said pompously, standing up straight, "In private."
"Oh, uh… okay?"
"It's about that Polish girl."
Clara was alarmed, "We should talk outside, then, probably." She would not put it past Steph to be eavesdropping from the landing above, quiet and out of sight. Clara indicated for Derek to take a few steps backwards into the drive and she closed the door behind her. The Doctor was still talking to the lobster. It was chillier than she thought.
"You have a lot of decorations," Derek commented, indicating the skeletons in their front garden and the cobwebs draped beneath the windows.
"Well, my better half is a big fan of Halloween," Clara shrugged, "Far be it from me to spoil her theatrics. God only knows what she's going to do for Christmas."
"It's quite juvenile."
"It's just a bit of fun," Clara grew a little defensive. "You said you wanted to talk to me about Stefani?"
"Yes. I hear you have her ear."
"From who?"
"From Hannah, she says the girl listens to you."
"Oh, right. She's in my form, I suppose?" Clara wasn't sure that Steph listened to her at all. "Well?"
"I want you to talk to her."
"Okay? About anything specific…?"
"I want you to tell her to keep away from my daughter."
"Um… you know Steph isn't… she's just friends with our Matilda. I don't have any sway or authority with her when it's not something to do with putting her phone away or handing in her homework in time."
"What's your point?" he asked coldly.
"That I'd be overstepping my role as a teacher if I were to try and tell one of my students who she can and can't spend her time with," Clara said, growing more serious with every sentence.
"No."
"…'No'?"
"Hannah's grades are slipping. It's the girl's fault."
"Hannah's grades are fine," said Clara. Like Steph, Hannah was in her form as well, so she knew how she was performing in school. "She's on track to meet all her targets."
"She needs to exceed her targets. She can't have distractions. The girl is a manipulator, Hannah needs to focus and she won't let her."
"…Steph's not stupid, you know. She can speak five languages. And if they like each other-"
He scoffed at her, "I should have known you wouldn't listen."
"Excuse me?"
"You tell that girl to stay away from my daughter, or I'll have to bring this up with the school. Let them know you aren't carrying out your duty of care properly."
"Sorry, you're threatening me because you don't like your daughter's girlfriend?" Clara was stunned. What year was it, for him to have this bizarre attitude?
"I don't much care for your lack of professionalism, Mrs Oswald," he turned to leave, practically mid-conversation. "I'm a lawyer, you know. Don't think I won't see about having you removed from your position if you're not capable of doing your job properly."
"I – but – that's-" He was already walking away down the street, back to his own house down the road, leaving Clara offended and aghast in the driveway of her home. He didn't even look back over his shoulder. Clara tutted and shook her head, muttering to herself, "The nerve…" Once she was sure he'd left she went back inside, finding the Doctor waiting in the living room door. Captain Nemo was safely back in his tank, all sealed up so he couldn't escape again.
"What did he want?" the Doctor asked.
"Just…" but Clara spotted Aki, Steph and Mattie lurking at the top of the stairs. "Nothing important. I'll tell you when I get back. Come on, you two – into the van. Aki's by the door, we're going to North Laine first."
Finally, she managed to herd the two girls into the camper, Steph more than a little happy about being able to sit next to Clara, so that she could drop them each back home as promised. As they left, the Doctor bade Mattie come downstairs and help her hang up more of her fairy lights; Clara expected most of the decorations to be up by the time she returned.
"Did you girls get much of your science project done, then?" Clara asked as she drove through Brighton, the roads not too busy at that time of night. They were mostly repaired after the incident with the trees, though lots of gardens and areas of common ground were still overrun with bits of dead plant. She was heading for the seafront.
"…It's not due until Friday," said Aki. That meant no, they hadn't gotten much of it done.
"Why don't you make people do presentations?" Steph asked.
"If you want to do a presentation…" Clara began wryly.
"N-no, I just mean… you assign tons of homework, but not that."
"I don't think they help to retain an awful lot of information. People focus too much on their own and not enough on other people's. Besides, I'm the teacher."
"Aren't they good for building up confidence?" Steph asked.
"I think you've got a bit too much confidence," said Clara. "At GCSE level… they cause a lot of additional stress. Nobody likes speaking in front of a bunch of judgemental teenagers."
"Then why do you do it?" Steph challenged.
"I get paid. A lot of people can't hack it, though. You lot are merciless."
"I heard Miss Pickman constantly makes people in her class do presentations."
"She does," said Aki, "It's awful."
"Presentation in a language you barely know – I can hardly imagine," Clara mused.
"Can you speak any languages?" Steph asked.
"I'm speaking one right now."
Steph scowled, "Apart from English."
"…Not really," Clara admitted, "I did a bit of Old Norse, at university. Not that that's remotely useful, but… the Doctor, though, she knows a lot. She can translate for me."
"What if she dumps you? Then you won't have a translator."
"I'll just have to get Miss Pickman to teach me some French, then." In truth though, Clara was sick and tired of France and everything to do with it.
"I'll teach you to speak Polish."
"Alright, if I ever split up with my wife – which won't happen, for the record – then I'll let you tell me some Polish. Are you happy now?"
"How can you know you'll never split up?" Steph persisted.
"I don't, but I trust and I hope, and that's all anyone can do."
"How did you meet?"
"You can't ask that," Aki interrupted to tell Steph off, "It's none of your business."
"It's just a question."
"It's not a very interesting story," Clara lied. It would be interesting could she tell it in its entirety, but for the sake of discretion, she had to cut out a lot of details. "I called a computer helpline and the Doctor was the one who answered the phone. They, uh… had to help with a problem with the wifi, and we went out for coffee."
"Oh," said Steph, "You're right, it's not very interesting."
She laughed, "I can always make one up? See, what actually happened is there was an alien invasion, and the Doctor had to save me from having my brain downloaded onto an evil computer system."
"Yeah, okay," said Steph, not paying as much attention now and slouching in the middle seat. Clara was amused as she tried to remember the best route to North Laine. While she turned her focus on driving, Aki once again began to needle Stefani about how much of their science homework they had left to do.
"Which shop is yours, Aki?" Clara asked a short while later as she drove slowly down the seafront, past the vibrant facades of the beachside businesses.
"It's that one, Inoue Noodle Bar," Aki pointed out a shop with a neon sign above it, but the neon was a handful of kanji characters. It had the name in English in a larger but non-neon sign below. The sign wasn't switched on at that time, however.
"Do you only sell noodles in there, then?" Clara inquired. She'd never seen Aki's family business.
"No, dad does a lot of different things."
"Do you do takoyaki? I love takoyaki, I get it every time we go to Japan. There's this one tiny food stand near Shinjuku Station that's kind of, nestled out of the way… hard to find, but it's great," Clara said.
"You've been to Tokyo?"
"Yeah, a few times," she said, "And other places. We've been to Okinawa and Hokkaido, too. Where are you from?"
"Kobe."
"I think I might have been to Kobe… honestly, I lose track." Clara pulled over in front of the noodle place in a spot with double yellow lines, but she wasn't sticking around for long enough to get a ticket. "I might have to drag the Doctor here one evening one of these days… she loves noodles, she likes… what are those thick ones called?"
"Udon noodles," said Aki.
"Yes, those! We'll swing by. Tell your dad it was nice to have you and you're welcome any time," Clara smiled as she got out of the car.
"Thanks, Mrs Oswald." Clara smiled as Aki closed the door. Clara – and Steph, to a lesser degree – waved as she left, waiting to make sure Aki was let into the shop before driving off. She saw Aki's father Hideo through the glass, and he waved and smiled at her as well. They absolutely needed to visit for date night soon.
"Shift over, then," Clara told Steph. Begrudgingly, Steph did as she was told, moving closer to the door and then slouching down. Clara put the van back into gear and began to pull out. "That's weird," Clara indicated to Steph a shop a few doors down that still had the lights on, Carter's Confectionary, a sweetshop. "Are they still open?"
"No," said Steph, "They're probably just eating, like, leftover sweets."
"Hm… I keep meaning to go there to get things for trick or treaters this week…"
"Will you get any trick or treaters? Aren't you going to the disco?"
"Yeah, but still… anyway." She put the sweetshop out of her mind as she drove away, taking the van towards Hanover. For a while there was silence as she tried to work out how to broach the topic of Derek Beckett with Steph (and as she mused on whether she should turn around and get some sweets as a nice surprise for her wife.) "So," she eventually began, "Hannah's dad stopped by to talk to me."
"I know. I heard him come to the door." Steph was looking out of the window.
"…He's a bit of a piece of work, isn't he?" said Clara.
"He's a dick. What did he want?"
"To talk to me about you. He told me to tell you to stay away from Hannah. I wouldn't normally mention it, but I feel like you should know what he's doing. I don't know whether I should tell Hannah."
"She probably knows," Steph muttered, "He never listens to her. She stands up to him, she argues with him, but he just… I don't know, nothing gets through. He's like, obsessed with her becoming a lawyer or a doctor or some sort of professional. Han won't let her grades slip, she's terrified of him."
"Mm. I see now why you're never allowed to stay over there."
"Did your parents let you just have people over at night?" Steph asked.
"They didn't care what I was doing as long as I wasn't getting pregnant," she joked, but it was sort of true. Her father had always preferred the girls she saw to the boys. "They probably would've supported me if I did get pregnant, too."
"Are they dead?"
"What?" Clara was taken aback, and Steph quickly tried to cover for herself.
"I don't – it's just, you're talking about them in the past tense."
"Oh… Yeah. They are."
"Sorry for asking," she mumbled.
"No, it's alright…" It had been a while, after all.
"Are you gonna warn me away from Hannah, then?"
"I think you and Hannah are both old enough to spend time with whoever you want, so no. I'm not letting her father bully me into bossing teenagers around. Just try not to get Hannah pregnant."
"I'll do my best," said Steph sarcastically.
"Tell you what, though – my dad never liked the Doctor."
"I thought everybody likes the Doctor?"
Clara laughed a little, "They do. Except for my dad." She didn't add that the reason her dad had never liked the Doctor was that they'd eloped in Las Vegas (in the future) after only knowing each other for a handful of months.
"You think I should get Hannah to marry me, then?"
"God, no. You're only fifteen."
"I'm sixteen, I had a birthday, last week. I'm legal now." Clara shook her head.
"Maybe stop with that if you want me to continue trying to defend you to Mr Beckett."
"You defended me?" Steph was surprised.
"As best as I could," said Clara. She felt like she was lying and perhaps she should have told Hannah's father what she thought of him and his coming to her house and threatening her, but didn't want to get called into Moore's office to explain the situation.
"What did you say?"
"Not a lot, he didn't stick around. I reminded him that you can speak five languages, though," Clara said.
"You mean you… said something nice? About me?"
"I, erm… well, yeah, I mean, I told the truth. Do people not say nice things about you usually?" Clara asked. Didn't her parents ever tell her they were proud of her for her proficiency for languages? Her good grades?
"I don't know. Jake's okay."
"…Which building is yours again?" Clara had to change the subject as she turned onto the street in Hanover where Steph lived. She didn't look too thrilled about going home, though.
"Can't I stay over, in Mattie's room? We could do the science work."
"No, and you should have done that already," said Clara, "You can't stay on a school night." They'd hidden enough of their tell-tale alien artefacts in their bedroom and the library that they could now have guests without worrying about them discovering the truth about their lives, but she still had to fulfil some parental duties, which included not letting Mattie have friends to stay on weeknights.
"You can just drop me off here, on the corner."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not leaving until I know you're home safe."
"Well, ugh, fine. It's that block," she indicated a block of drab, grey flats. Clara parked the van on the curb.
"If you get Mattie in trouble because you're distracting everyone from the homework, you'll have me to answer to as well as Mr McCloud, alright?"
"And what does answering to you involve, exactly?" Steph asked.
"Unbelievable… right, go on, get out, go home," Clara said, indicating the door, "I'll see you tomorrow in class, and I better not hear anything bad about your presentation. You don't want to be banned from hanging around with Mattie as well as Hannah, do you?"
"You'd do that?"
"No, but I think Matilda might if you don't get on with it," Clara again indicated the door and Steph sighed and finally opened it to get out. True to her word, Clara didn't leave until she saw Steph go into the block, and then stuck around for another minute or so for good measure as she fidgeted with the CD player. Everyone from that decade who had ever seen the inside of the van had been alarmed at the presence of not only the CD slots but also the tape deck and the analogue radio. The Doctor kept a record player in the back, too. But for the short drive back to Fiveways, the Doctor wasn't there to complain about the music choice, so Clara was free to hum along to The Strokes as much as she liked.
She was mostly occupied by that, and by driving, so the journey home drifted by in no time at all. Before long she was reversing into the driveway – which was no mean feat in such a ridiculous van – and climbing out, looking forward to having a shower and going to bed for the night. When did she get so old?
Clara locked the van and went back into the house to find the Doctor alone in the living room, fairy-lights now strung up, holding her neon pumpkin and examining it with the sonic screwdriver.
"Everything alright?" she asked
"I think it's broken," said the Doctor, "That's a shame."
"Oh well. We've still got the chocolate pumpkin in the fridge, for Friday," Clara reminded her. The chocolate pumpkin was orange-flavoured, which was a little confusing, but Clara was very much looking forward to eating it when they were finally done with the disco. There had been a few of them for sale in a chocolatier near the seafront the previous weekend, and the Doctor couldn't bear not getting one. "Where's Matts?"
"Gone to bed, all tuckered out from socialising with people."
"Mm, I know the feeling," said Clara, sitting down in the chair by the window to take off her shoes. The Doctor watched her for a second, then set down the broken ornament and approached to talk to her.
"What did he want, then? Hannah's dad?"
"Oh, god… the nerve of him, I can hardly believe…" Clara muttered, "He told me to convince Steph to dump Hannah because he's worried about Hannah's grades falling."
"He what?"
"And that's not the worst part. He said if I don't do this, he's going to go over my head to talk to Lorna and tell her I'm unprofessional and don't care about the academic success of my students. Started going on about how he's a fancy lawyer or something." The Doctor gawked.
"That-! I can't believe he threatened you! Eurgh, I hate people like that!"
"I know," she sighed.
"Well – did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"What he asked."
"Of course not. I did the opposite and told Steph what he's up to. Not the part about him threatening to get me fired, but about him trying to manipulate Hannah," Clara explained, "What do you think I should do? Do you think I should tell Hannah?"
"I don't know…" said the Doctor.
"Do you think I should warn Lorna that he might pull a stunt like this?"
"Ask Ida," said the Doctor, "She'll know whether Lorna is in the mood to deal with something like that. Though, I think she would appreciate the heads-up. Or talk to Lucia, she's the head of year; he'll probably go to her first if he goes to anyone. Unless he's all hot air."
"Yeah… I'll see what Lucia says about it all…"
"Worse comes to worst, we'll send Jenny to break his kneecaps," she joked. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. I've been threatened by scarier people than Derek Beckett, after all. Just two weeks ago, Robespierre tried to shoot me. Not to mention Will Smiles and his serum. And you when you thought I ate that leftover chicken you were saving."
"I was very distraught about that, and I have apologised," she said. She'd forgotten which shelf in the fridge she'd left it on. Clara leant back in the chair and sighed again, slouching down. "Are you tired?"
"Quite tired."
"Like, how much? Out of ten?"
"I don't know – six? Seven?"
"But not super tired?"
"…What do you want?" Clara asked, though she knew the answer.
"Nothing," she said innocently, "I was just thinking about how, y'know, it's only just gone ten o'clock, and we don't have any work to do, and you're a little upset… there might be something we could do to cheer you up."
"You're total filth, you know."
"We've got that in common. How 'bout it?" the Doctor took her hand and tugged gently on her arm.
"You're not putting a lot of effort into seducing me."
"When has seducing you taken effort? I usually just have to smile, or say 'hi.' Or stand next to you." Clara continued to think, then yawned and got to her feet, still holding the Doctor's hand.
"Okay, you've got me. I'm going to get some water and then I'll see you upstairs in a minute."
She beamed, "It's a date."