Who's Afraid of Rose Tyler?

3

Wednesday

"I don't know why you want to come to this thing," said Matilda, sitting on the steps in the front hall and pulling her shoes on. Again, Rose's feet were bandaged up and tucked away comfortably. She waited by the front door for Mattie to get ready. It was already dark outside.

"It's your parents' evening, your first one since you started going to a proper school," said Rose, "Of course I want to come, I'm your godmother."

"It's still boring, though. And Clara and the Doctor already know everything, us going is pointless."

"It's good. It's normal. Normal's good. Don't knock it."

"But I'd rather not go." Mattie got up, shoelaces tied and coat on, and took her keys out.

"I reckon I should get some keys for this place, what do you think?" said Rose as Mattie walked past her to unlock the door.

"What's the point when you can teleport in and out?"

"It's nice having keys. It means someone wants you around if they give you keys," Rose followed her outside. Mattie locked the door behind them.

"Ask Clara, then, don't ask me. I can't give you my keys." It had just stopped raining maybe fifteen minutes ago, everything wet and glossy under the streetlights.

"What would you think, though?" said Rose, beginning their walk to the school. "If I was, you know, around here more often."

"You're always here already," said Mattie.

"I know that, but, if I lived here, maybe."

"You're shagging them, aren't you? I knew it."

"No, I'm not shagging them."

"They want to move you in here so they can have three-ways on tap."

"I'm being serious," said Rose.

"Well, why ask me? I don't mind whether you're here or not. You used to stay with mum and dad for ages, weeks sometimes."

"Yeah, I know, but I wouldn't want to talk to Clara if it wasn't alright with you first."

"It's not really my house."

"I'm trying not to be disruptive. If you're already in a rhythm here, I wouldn't want to disturb that."

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on? Any of you?" asked Mattie, hands in her pockets. Rose kept looking at the sky; she hadn't brought an umbrella, and the clouds were threatening.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," said Rose.

"But you know that means I do worry about it, because then I'm just guessing, aren't I?"

Rose sighed, "I'm not getting on well with my husband. It's not something you'll find interesting. That's all. Just boring, grown-up things."

"And you'd rather live here, in Brighton, with the Oswalds, than stay on the TARDIS with him?" asked Mattie.

"At the moment, maybe I would. Is that hard to believe?"

"I thought you hated Clara," she shrugged, "That's how it always looked to me. And I thought you were gonna kill her when you found out about mum and dad's will."

"It's complicated," said Rose, "We've known each other for a long time, but we haven't always gotten on. We're too similar, really."

"But now you do get on?" asked Mattie.

"Well, I… alright, the truth is – not that everything else I said wasn't true – but what's really true, is that I never gave her much of a chance before. Just sort of, decided she was annoying and then went about the next fifty years of our lives."

"You've hated Clara for fifty years based on a first impression?"

"To be fair, she gives a terrible first impression," said Rose, "But I've moved on now. She's a good friend. And she's great to get drunk with, you'll learn that one day, when you're older. We once got chucked out of Dean Martin's house because we were so hammered."

"I don't want to get drunk with you and Clara."

"Are you sure? Your mum used to come out with us sometimes."

"And then she'd be bedridden for a week, do you think I don't remember? Seeing those hangovers is enough to make me never want a drink."

"She did always take a lot of persuading to come out with us," said Rose. "Can you walk a bit slower, please?"

"Oh, sorry," Mattie stopped. "Couldn't you just teleport us to the school?"

"Yes, but I like the walk," she insisted.

"And couldn't you heal those blisters?" Mattie asked. She'd seen Rose reapplying her bandages the day before, and had then told her off for not doing it properly.

"Yes. But then it would be like it never happened. And it's important to accept consequences, even if you don't like them."

"Alright…" said Mattie.

"Anyway," Rose clapped her hands together, "Tell me what I need to know about your teachers – which ones to talk to, which to avoid, all that stuff."

"We should avoid all of them, and go get something to eat instead," said Mattie, "They have this twenty-four-hour greasy spoon in town now. It's like a diner. All robots. Let's just go there instead."

"No, I'm seeing this through. So, tell me."

"Well, the head of English is pretty dodgy. I think she's always trying to get the single mums to go to bed with her."

"I can imagine."

"I don't really know who you should talk to. I don't know what happens at these things at all. They're just going to tell you I either need to do more work – if it's English or French – or that I'm on track."

"Maybe I want to know other things – how you're fitting in, your friends, all that," said Rose. "Plus, I'm being nosey. I've never known the Doctor to even think about holding down a job, and she's been here for getting on eighteen months."

"I thought she worked in a school before? Mum said something about turning human, living a normal life," said Mattie.

"I forgot about that," said Rose, "I mean the other time she worked in a school, for all of three days," said Rose, "That was me, her, your dad, and Sarah Jane, who you never got to meet. And K-9, actually."

"Is this the one about you blowing up the building?"

"Yeah, we did do that," said Rose, "It had been taken over by Krilitane, these massive bat-monsters. Terrifying. But do you know what's more terrifying?"

"What?"

"Me having to work as a bloody dinner lady. I bet you don't even have dinner ladies anymore, do you? It'll all be robots, like at your café."

"No, we do have dinner ladies, actually. Cheaper than a robot. And you don't have to have some specialised engineer on call if something breaks."

"Since when do you know a lot about canteen logistics?"

"It's what mum used to complain about when they tried automating bits of her hospital, years ago. They tried putting robots in the canteen there, and had to get humans back in the end," said Mattie, "She hated it, dad called her a Luddite. And then she'd say, 'you can't get proper bedside manner-'"

"From a robot," Rose finished her sentence, "I do remember Martha saying that…"

"Well, she said it a lot," said Mattie, "He got that robot vacuum cleaner and she flipped, wanted to know why it was too much for him to hoover himself when he was stay-at-home. I never understood why she was so bothered, though…"

"It's a slippery slope," said Rose, "In a hundred years, there'll be slavery again. Synths, like Nios. Not to mention another Dalek invasion."

"And you think robot vacuum cleaners are the reason for that?"

"Well, no, but you see synths, cybermen, rogue AIs, and you'll get suspicious of technology, won't you?" said Rose, "Why do you think Clara writes everything down on paper, won't get a smart house?"

"The house has Helix."

"That's different from kitting everything out with gadgets from some megacorporation."

"For a bunch of seasoned time travellers, you're not half paranoid. All anybody uses Helix for is to track my phone because you think I'll get kidnapped."

"You were kidnapped, by Daleks," Rose reminded her.

"Yeah, ages ago."

"I'm glad to see it didn't leave you as traumatised as it did everybody else. Is this your school up here?" They'd rounded a corner, a large building coming into view.

"Yeah. Probably don't mention aliens and time travel to my teachers, though."

"Oh, really? Because that was the first thing I was gonna ask them about, whether all the time travel with aliens has disrupted your studies," Rose joked.

"It has disrupted them, actually – it was no good going to Paris, or Leeds. Unnecessary stress."

"I'm here now," said Rose, "You get roped into any time travel shenanigans you don't want to be in, I'll come and get you. I don't need a TARDIS."

She stopped talking as they crossed the school gates, joining the other parents and children, all in groups of two or three, rarely more. The last time Rose had been at a parent's evening was when she was thirteen, she'd stopped after that. Jackie had given Rose and all her teachers a hard time, and it had been easier to simply neglect to mention parent's evenings after a certain point. Though, there were choice words exchanged when she was caught bunking off one week.

They had to sign in, on a tablet rather than a sheet of paper; some trappings of the future would always get through, even if they weren't being served by robots. Once in the main hall, Mattie gave her a who's who of all the teachers they'd need to talk to. Thankfully, the two teachers with the longest queues were the only two they didn't have to speak to, the Oswalds.

"Everybody wants to talk to them," said Rose quietly.

"Yeah, the hot, assumed-lesbian couple everybody fancies," said Mattie dryly, "How remarkable that they're popular with the parents. Not to mention, Clara's giving out biscuits." She had a packet of fruit shortcake biscuits on the desk next to her. "So, we're gonna talk to Mr McCloud – my science teacher – to Mr Miller – English – to Miss Villanueva – maths – and then… I don't know, maybe geography, or ICT."

"What about your form tutors?"

"Hm?" asked Mattie, pretending she hadn't heard.

"Form tutors."

"Oh, you don't have to talk to them."

"I think I probably should."

"Yeah, but, they're… well, to be honest, they're kind of…" Mattie started to whisper, "They're twats."

"Even more reason for me to have a chat with them."

"Well, can you talk to them last, at least? In case you really piss them off?"

"I'm not gonna piss anyone off, what do you take me for?" said Rose, "Just, who do you want to talk to first? I'm not standing around like a lemon."

"We'll go talk to Mr McCloud, then," said Mattie, "But I should warn you, there's a rumour circulating that he and Mr Wu have a bet on about whether they can pull at this thing."

"At a parent's evening?"

"It's the single mums. And maybe the not-so-single godmothers."

Mattie's warning proved invaluable. Mr McCloud, her science teacher, wasn't very smooth or subtle, despite Rose's best attempts to ignore him and keep talking about Mattie's grades. Unfortunately, her grades were immaculate with little room for improvement, so the conversation kept returning to his bizarre suggestion that she give him her phone number in case she had any other questions about Matilda's progress 'any time, day or night'.

"You think I'll be ringing you in the middle of the night to ask if she's turned her homework in?" asked Rose.

"If you did, I'd be happy to take the call," he promised.

"Right, then… unfortunately, I'm not gonna give you my phone number, because… I don't want to. But I'm glad our Matilda is doing so well at science; she needs science to be a surgeon."

"If you have any questions about A Levels or getting into university to study a science-" he began, talking directly to Rose.

"I'm not giving you my number."

"I just mean, you know, questions on Matilda's behalf-"

"It's not gonna happen, Charlie."

"Cameron," he corrected her.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"We'll go talk to someone else, I think…" Mattie got up. Rose followed suit, smiling politely as she disengaged and let somebody else take up Mr McCloud's time. "Did you get his name wrong on purpose?"

"Yeah. Trying to make sure he gets the hint."

"Did you spend a lot of time knocking boys back at school, then?"

"Sort of," said Rose as they joined another queue, "Didn't knock back the ones I should've done, though."

"Like who? My dad?"

"No, of course not him. Jimmy Stone, mostly. But you don't want to hear about that. Who's next, then?"

It was Miss Villanueva, Mattie's heavily pregnant maths teacher, up next. Rose resisted the urge to ask her how far along she was and focused on how Matilda was doing at maths – very well, as it turned out. So well that they had very little to talk about and were shuffled along very quickly to join the line for Tom Miller, in English. Tom's desk was next to Clara's, Clara who was offering everybody who talked to her a biscuit.

"How many packets will she get through in an evening, do you think?" asked Rose.

"Not that many, nobody likes fruit shortcake except her."

"I do."

"That'll just be another thing the two of you have in common, then, won't it?" said Mattie. "She'll have loads left over."

"I haven't had any dinner."

"Well then, we should have skipped this, like I wanted to, and gone to the café. They do these knickerbocker glories that are-"

"Please, sit down, Matilda," said Mr Miller, indicating the chairs opposite. "I appreciate that ice cream is a lot more exciting than this, but I only need a minute."

"I'm Rose," Rose introduced herself, "I'm her godmother – and Clara's sister-in-law. And I'd actually love a biscuit."

"Excuse me?" he asked. But without looking at her, while talking to somebody else, Clara picked up her packet of biscuits and held it out towards Rose, who took two out.

"Thank you," she said. Clara kept talking and didn't acknowledge her. "So, how's Mattie doing in English? Not good, I've heard?" she chewed.

"Her marks in English are fine, but I really feel like she could apply herself more to the subject. I think it would be especially useful if she took utilised the fact she lives with our head of department."

"I just think it would be a bit unethical to use Clara like that, you know?" said Mattie.

"Somehow, I doubt she'd mind talking to you about poems and plays."

"I don't want to have an unfair advantage."

"You don't want to put in the extra work for something you're not naturally gifted at, you mean?" he countered. "Mattie, I know you don't necessarily need a top grade in English to do STEM, but it will be very beneficial. You only need to put in a little bit more time now to really get to grips with the texts and their themes."

"But I could use that time to revise science, which is more important," said Mattie.

"English is a subject that… once it clicks for you, it clicks," he went on, "If you really learn to understand it, and enjoy it, you don't need to do much revision at all."

"But I'm already not revising for it, so what will change?"

"You'll get a better grade. You're on a C, but I really believe that in the next six months, if you work, you could get an A. Have you thought about revision groups, maybe?"

"Revision groups are Hannah Beckett's thing, and she doesn't like me," said Mattie.

"Why not?" asked Rose.

"Stupid reasons, doesn't matter."

"What about Jakub Kaczmarek?" asked Mr Miller, "You spend time with him these days, don't you? He's top of your whole year for English."

"He's busy," she said, cagey.

"Mattie," he put his hands together, "I can't stress enough how useful a solid grade in English will be. Your exams are in four months, what's four months of a little extra work for your entire future?"

"He's got a point," said Rose, "Your entire future might end up being surprisingly long."

"Yeah. Fine. I'll read the play again," she grumbled.

"If you could spend just a little more time on your English homework, too. Really think about the questions."

"Yes, yes."

"It's really a very rewarding subject-"

"I said I'll do it, sir. Can I go now?"

"You can go whenever you like, this event is technically optional."

"You see?" Mattie whispered to Rose after they'd disengaged from Mr Miller, another set of parents immediately taking up the chairs opposite him, "It's optional. We can just go."

"I'm doing my due diligence. Who's next?"

Next was Mr Wu, from ICT, who also spent exactly one sentence praising Mattie's performance before trying to wheedle out Rose's number. Never mind that she didn't even know what her number was anymore off the top of her head. Again, she insisted that she wasn't interested, to no avail. Mattie eventually rescued her.

"How's your bet with Mr McCloud going, sir?" she asked, a little loudly, "Have you managed to get anywhere with any of the mums? Trying to shag them, aren't you?" Mr Wu went bright red. Other people around them looked over.

"Matilda, I don't know what you've heard-"

"Just a rumour, sir."

"Well, would you kindly not repeat rumours?"

"I just thought you should know about it, if you want to nip it in the bud and stress that you're actually not trying to sleep with anybody's parents."

"…As I was saying, Mattie's very good at ICT." He said a few more things, mumbling now his cover had been blown, but Rose didn't listen. She'd just seen Benji Speyer on the other side of the room, queuing up to talk to somebody else, a young girl on his right and a thirtyish woman on his left, talking in his ear about something.

"That's Benji over there, the detective," said Rose quietly when they'd left Mr Wu to argue with one of the dads about whether he had ulterior motives at that parent's evening.

"Yeah, I know," said Mattie, "His daughter's in year seven."

"I need to talk to him before he leaves."

"Why?"

"I need a favour." She needed him to get her a sample of the anaesthetic so that she didn't have to break into the police station and get it herself.

"What if he arrests you again?"

"He won't."

Before she could get Benji's attention, another teacher waved Mattie over. A redhead; her notorious French teacher, no doubt. She didn't have anybody queuing up to talk to her, stuck there at a desk on her own.

"I'd like a word, Matilda," she said, clipped, like she was trying to fake RP. Rose hated people who did that.

Unhappily, Mattie obeyed, and dragged Rose along with her to sit down at the empty desk. Rose glanced over her shoulder at Benji, who was one desk behind. He spotted her while he was meant to be chatting with someone else, but then Mattie elbowed her and she had to go back to the teacher.

"Who are you, exactly?" the teacher asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not either of Matilda's legal guardians."

"No, I'm Rose, I'm her godmother," said Rose, "Who are you?"

"Miss Pickman, her form tutor. And I'd like to have a word about her behaviour."

"Would you, now?" she asked, getting increasingly aware that she might miss her chance to talk to Benji. She'd never been all that patient.

"Matilda simply doesn't apply herself to French. Learning a foreign language is extremely important, that's why it's mandatory for every student, and I'm not sure Matilda has progressed remotely in the entire time she's been at this school."

"Isn't that your fault?" said Rose.

"There's only so much that I can do if she isn't willing to learn."

"She's willing to learn in all her other subjects. What's different about this one?" Rose asked.

"Well, precisely, that's what I'd like to know."

"I just don't like French much," said Mattie. "I don't understand why the words need to have all those different endings."

"It's – conjugation is a very basic principle that I can't keep explaining. There are other problems, too. She constantly answers back during lessons and during form time, which completely derails what Mr Chapel and I are trying to teach."

"It's just form, though, isn't it?" said Rose, "How useful can it be?"

"We happened to be teaching a very important lesson about racism, and she wasn't listening at all."

"I already know what racism is, thanks," said Mattie.

"Look, if you're just gonna have a go-" Rose began. She couldn't finish, though. Somebody else was giving a teacher what-for on the other side of the room, and getting louder and louder. "Can't hear anything with that racket, what's…" She looked over. It was one of the fathers, a frightened teenager behind him, scolding Clara, in front of the entire room. He was shouting himself red in the face.

"…absolute unprofessionalism of the faculty at this institution, I really can't believe I'm hearing this," he said.

"Shit," said Mattie, quietly, "That's Derek Beckett."

"Hannah's dad? The one who doesn't like you?"

"Sort of, but that's not the main thing," she spoke quickly, "The main thing is that over Halloween, he showed up at our house – he lives down the road – and demanded that Clara force Hannah and her girlfriend, Stefani, to break up."

"What? Why would she do that? It's not anybody's business what two teenagers are up to," said Rose.

"Well, exactly, that's what she said," Mattie went on, "I thought the whole thing was forgotten, but…"

"Christ," said Rose. He was really laying into her. "I should do something, go over there." She made to get up, but Mattie grabbed her arm.

"Don't. She'll hate it."

"But-"

"Alright," said Clara, very loud, standing up to match Beckett. Unfortunately, even with her heels on she was nearly a foot shorter than him, and not particularly commanding. "I appreciate that you're upset, but this really isn't the right way to go about airing any grievances."

"Why not? You've not listened to me any other time I've raised my concerns, perhaps because you feel there's nobody to hold you accountable. Well, your headmistress will be hearing about this."

"That's fantastic, and I'm sure she'll be on my side because, sir, your demands are completely outrageous."

"My demands!

"I really do feel like we should take this conversation outside," said Clara. He ignored her.

"I'm merely asking that you treat my daughter's education with the respect it deserves."

"Your daughter is treated exactly the same as every other child at this school, and I'm not sure why you expect favouritism."

"I am a crucial member of the board of governors here, and if you think I won't be bringing up your shoddy performance with them, you've got another thing coming."

"Yeah, except you already threatened to do that four months ago, and nothing came of it." Everybody in the room was staring at them now, including Benji.

"Everybody should know what kind of teacher has been put in charge of this English department. One of the most important subjects, and it's left to an inexperienced woman more interested in canoodling with fellow members of staff than doing her job."

"Excuse me!?" Clara actually shouted. Rose couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Clara lose her temper. "That's my wife you're talking about, you have absolutely misrepresented the situation to try and publicly demean me – that's what's outrageous!" The Doctor was at her side, abandoning her desk. "No, I'm fine, don't-" Clara waved her away, frustrated, and she stepped back.

"In front of all these people, well, I see where your priorities lie. Relationships between members of staff are inappropriate, to say the least," Beckett went on. Rose saw Benji mumble something to the woman he was with, then got up and left her and his daughter alone to go and intervene. Mr McCloud and Miss Villanueva had also abandoned their posts. Everybody else kept watching.

"What have they got to do with it?" Rose asked Matilda.

"Mr McCloud is the union representative, Miss Villanueva head of year eleven, pastoral care is technically her job," Miss Pickman answered instead. "As for him…"

"DS Speyer," said Rose, observing, "I know him."

Voices all began to talk over each other. Beckett continued raving, Clara tried to defend herself, and McCloud and Villanueva both attempted to calm the situation down. The Doctor didn't know what to say, having been pushed away by Clara. But it was only Benji who could cut through the noise.

"Mr Beckett," he said, low, but not low enough that the rest of the room couldn't hear. "I'm Detective Sergeant Benjamin Speyer, that's S-P-E-Y-E-R. Do you mind if we talk outside?" Beckett had been beet-red and furious, but he went clammy when Benji spoke. "Please, after me, let's discuss this all somewhere quieter – my daughter goes to this school as well, you know." He pointed at the door out of the hall, waiting patiently for Beckett to leave. To Rose's surprise, he kowtowed. Benji led him out of the room, smiling politely at Clara. Not another word was said until the double doors had swung closed behind them.

"Show's over now, everyone," Clara addressed the room, "You can all get back to work." People started chit-chatting again as Clara sat back down, everybody feeling rather awkward. The Doctor was evidently asking her if she was alright, fawning over her as always, but Clara got her to leave. She looked wounded. The other teachers dispersed, too.

"I'm just going to go talk to Benji," said Rose.

"What? You can't go out there," said Mattie.

"It's fine, nobody will see me. I'll be back in a minute."

Because Rose had decided nobody would see her, nobody did. Small twists of fate kept them from noticing her as she stole out of the room and into the dark hallway outside, and they kept Benji and Derek Beckett from noticing her, too. Hannah was away at the far end, mortified.

"You don't scare me, detective," said Beckett, utterly unconvincing, "I know you don't speak to your family."

"My father and brothers have a problem with me. They don't have a problem with my daughter – their granddaughter and niece – whose schooling you're disturbing."

"Threatening me with your father…"

"My father pays your bills. Quite a large house you have now, isn't it? Five bedrooms? In Brighton, that must be an expensive mortgage. I hate to think what would happen if you lost the Speyers as your biggest clients. And word about that sort of thing gets around about solicitors, doesn't it?" said Benji. "Mrs Oswald happens to be Katie's favourite teacher, and I think if I get wind of this sort of thing again, not only will I be talking to my family, but I might have to pull you in on a harassment charge."

"Ridiculous. You couldn't make a charge like that stick, not on me. It would be a waste of taxpayers' money."

"So is trying to take a department head at this publicly funded state school to some kind of tribunal over something as trivial as – what? What exactly is this row about?"

"That woman isn't taking Hannah's education seriously. It's that girl, the Polish one, she's distracting her from her studies."

"Right, well, I don't know anything about that, but I don't think xenophobia is a particularly good reason for the school to first have to fight against you and the governors, and then to have to fight against the NEU in a wrongful termination case. Does that seem like a good use of anybody's time or money? Especially if you lose your biggest client and get rung up on criminal charges?"

"Aren't you a white knight – ironic, given you're the black sheep of your family."

"Very funny."

"She's a lesbian, you know. She won't care about you swanning in to rescue her." She wasn't a lesbian, but Rose couldn't correct them.

"You're admitting there's something to rescue her from, then? That you've been making threats?"

"You're twisting my words."

"I think you and your daughter should leave now. And in future, if you don't want her to cut off all contact with you when she moves out, you could stand to be less of a wanker."

"Not appropriate conduct from a member of the police service."

"Sue me, I'm off duty," he shrugged. Beckett said nothing. "Leave, please. Or I'll have to escort you off the premises." Seething, but without saying another word, Beckett left, Hannah following right behind him.

Benji watched them go then sighed, shaking his head, muttering something to himself about a cigarette. It was only then that Rose made her presence known.

"What an arsehole," she said. He jumped.

"Bloody hell – where did you come from?"

"I was here the whole time. Manifest thing," she said. "Not that I understood all that – how are you threatening his income?"

"He's my father's solicitor. My father's a career criminal, so there's a lot of work and money in defending him," said Benji.

"A career criminal?"

"Mob. Clara knows all this, you should ask her. I need to get back to my daughter."

"No, wait, I need to talk to you," Rose blocked his path, "About your murders."

"Yes?"

"Well, I did some asking around."

"Asking around of who?"

"Vampires. But they said they didn't do it."

"Great."

"Now, though, I need a favour. And I think you owe me one, after I was in a holding cell for hours the other night for something I didn't do."

"I got your release expedited, Rose, I think we've even. Now, if I could just-"

"I need a sample of the anaesthetic, the weird compound," again, she'd stepped sideways to block him.

"What?"

"I have someone who can analyse it, and I need to get a sample one way or another. So, either you help me, or I have to break in. This is easier."

"Easier for you. My job would be on the line if I was caught doing something like that."

"Yeah, well, do you want your murder solved, or not?"

He paused, thinking. Then crossed his arms. "Alright, who've you got? Who can look at the anaesthetic? Because if it's the Doctor, she can talk to me herself."

"The Doctor's not involved, I'm handling this. It's Clara's sister."

"Clara's sister?" he asked incredulously.

"She's a genius. I promise, she'll be able to tell you what it is, where it comes from, all that. Unless you've got some other compelling leads?" He said nothing. "I'm just trying to exonerate myself since I'm apparently your prime suspect."

"The evidence has exonerated you. But you want me to risk my job for Clara's sister?"

"Fine, then, I'll run it down to UNIT for you, or Torchwood. Do you still have Torchwood these days?" She could've sworn she'd heard Jack talk about it, the problem being that she never really listened to what Jack said.

"…I'll think about it. But right now, I need to get back to my family. My ex-wife's through there, and I'm sure she's already pissed off enough."

"Fine. But I will have to break in and nick it if you don't help me, just to warn you."

"Warning a police officer that you're intending to commit a crime?"

"I can blackmail you just as well as Clara can," she said, "In fact, more, because Clara would never actually dob you in. But I might."

"I'll think about it."

He went back into the hall, and before Rose could follow him, he was supplanted by Matilda, who came rushing out.

"Can we please go, now?" she said, "This is a nightmare. Pickman's just been having a go at me the whole time you've been out here."

"…Yeah, alright," said Rose, "If we've talked to everyone. We'll head off. Clara and the Doctor will want to be alone for a while after all that, anyway." Others were leaving now as well. The row had put a real dampener on the evening.

"What did Benji do?"

"Sorted him out, I reckon. Hopefully, that's the end of it. Now, where's this café? Suddenly, a plate of chips and a knickerbocker glory sound like the best things in the world."