Days and nights could be meaningless in temporal orbit, but Chrístõ had a clock set to the 26 hour Gallifreyan time, and Terry and Cassie both had watches that told Earth time, and although there was an obvious incompatibility between the two methods of measuring time, they managed to work out when they ought to be sleeping. Terry and Cassie retreated to their bedroom when they judged it to be time for bed, and Chrístõ laid down on a mat on the floor by the still sleeping Bo and slept a little in the ordinary way they would recognise, but also renewed his body with a meditation, though not a deep one, as he wanted to be aware if she suffered any distress.

When he woke in the morning, she was still sleeping peacefully. Probably the first peaceful sleep she had known for a long time. He went to check the settings on the console. They were still safely ‘parked’ in temporal orbit and could continue to be so for a while yet. He thought he could be spared for a while.

He left the door ajar that led to his dojo, so that he might know if she woke. He put on his gi and began his exercises. He enjoyed the disciplines of the different martial arts he knew. They kept him fit as well as being healthy to mind and body.

Bo woke slowly, feeling different than she had for a long, long time. She opened her eyes and stared at her unfamiliar surroundings that, unfamiliar as they were, were welcome to her as they were NOT the squalid room below deck that Marley had kept her in. Her mind felt more awake than it had been for a long time. And at the forefront of her mind was the man with the kind brown eyes who had rescued her, who had held her, and had taken away her pain.

She rose from the bed and looked around. She looked at the strange instruments in the middle of the room but was afraid to touch them. The viewscreen with its view of Earth from space she did not understand at all. But her attention was drawn to the half open door into another room. She stood there and watched her saviour as he performed exercises that were hauntingly familiar to her. She slipped inside the room. He was concentrating so deeply that he did not see her. She walked around the edge of the training area to the changing room. She took a white gi from the rack and put it on, tying it with a black belt. She stepped quietly over to where he was going through a series of Tai Chi moves and slipped into step with him, matching his moves. He looked at her in surprise and smiled. He made his moves slightly more complex and she matched him.

“Want to try something more energetic,” he asked, after he brought the exercise to a close. She nodded and smiled and adopted the opening position of Shaolin Gung Fu.

That surprised him. “You’re a disciple of Shaolin?” he asked.

“I am a master,” she answered very simply, and without any sense of bragging - as he would have expected if she truly WAS a master. He, too, adopted the opening position and she made the first move, gracefully and skilfully. He barely blocked her, and when she blocked his OWN thrust he knew she really WAS good. She had a feminine grace to her moves, but no less skill than his own solider, masculine style of movement. When she actually made contact with him, with a skilful and powerful punch to the shoulder he was momentarily stunned. She had got him right on the pressure point by the ceratoid artery that was a weaker spot in his physiology than it was to humans. But he rallied quickly and told himself not to go easy on her. She was more than a match for him and his natural instinct to protect her didn’t count from the moment she stepped into the dojo. After ten minutes in which he had not even come close to making contact he realised that he was in more danger of being beaten than she was. And rather humiliatingly, it was she who eventually called it a draw – the prerogative of the ‘winner’ who wishes to spare an opponent from defeat.

“Where does all this come from?” Chrístõ asked as they rested. “We found you yesterday nearly whipped to death by a fool you could have killed with one hand.”

“The drugs,” she said. “I have not felt my own strength for so long. They kept me weak. To make me do their bidding. My spirit died. I had not the will to fight.”

“Poor child,” Chrístõ said, touching her face gently. As he did so he saw clearly the pain she had suffered for so many years. He could see it in her mind. Her family murdered and she taken, drugged to make her pliable, and raped shamelessly by all comers, bought and sold by several men before finally coming into the ‘possession’ of the Viscount Marley who had used her in every humiliating way possible and whipped her for the slightest pretext. She had expected to be sold on again soon, as he was bored with her. She had actually HOPED that Chrístõ would make an offer. She thought he had kind eyes. He hugged her tightly and told her she was free. She could stay with him if she wanted, and he would care for her, and never hurt her. Or he could take her back to her own people.

She shook her head. They were all dead. The slavers killed them. She had no home to return to. “Then stay with me, as a free woman,” he said. “And when you are ready, you may go where you like with my blessing.”

“Thank you,” she said in English and then a huge torrent of words in Mandarin. Chrístõ wondered again why the TARDIS was not translating her words. It knew that language just as well as he did. Perhaps the emotions that were spilling out as well were confusing it. He responded to her in her native language, calming and soothing her. “That’s better,” he said then. “Are you up for another session?” And he glanced towards the rack of gleaming swords that he was almost sure he would be better than her with. She nodded.

They both took a Shaolin sword and faced each other and bowed before commencing to fight. Chrístõ quickly revised his ideas about her. She was VERY fast. He actually began to feel a little breathless as she came at him again and again. And she was MUCH BETTER than him at it. He knew he could beat her with Time Lord tricks in addition to the disciplines of the Shaolin. He could slow down time or even manipulate her sword, although his telekinetic abilities were poor, his one weak psychic ability. But that would not be a fair fight.

He ought to have had the advantage anyway with his double hearts, his superior respiratory system and enhanced musculature and bone structure But then again, he knew, the disciplines of the Shaolin, when properly learnt – and there was no other way to learn them, half-heartedness did not progress – levelled the playing field and made men and women, old and young, and cocky young Time Lords who were sure of their superiority, equal. He’d learnt a few lessons in humility in his time in the Shaolin temples. The monks had sensed he was different, but he had spent enough time flat on his back with a sharp sword a wrist movement away from removing his head to learn respect for them. And by his determination, he had earned theirs. He was a master, too. But he must have let himself get lazy. The holograms did not test him as far as they should.

And as if fighting a master was not hard enough, Bo seemed to be driven as she fought him. He touched her thoughts briefly, only briefly, as he had to keep his mind firmly on the flashing blade that was inches from his face every moment. She was thinking of those who had hurt her and her anger and pain was overwhelming her senses. She hardly realised WHO she was fighting. That was all right in a way. If she could burn off the anger it would be cathartic. But he didn’t want her to kill him by mistake in the process. And he was having to fight every inch to stop her doing that.

And he made a mistake. He jumped and missed his footing and as he fell he felt her sword slice into his arm. She screamed and dropped the sword, hiding her face in her hands. He pulled open the gi and examined the wound. It was deep, it had actually glanced off the bone. But he would mend in a few minutes. This was nothing.

But it made things worse for Bo. She watched in horror as his wound repaired itself. And when he reached out his mended arm to her she shrank back and spoke in quick, terrified mandarin.

“Demon?” Chrístõ said when he caught her words. “No, no, Bo, precious, you know I’m not a demon. I... Come here, please.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m not a devil. Please, precious Bo, you know I’ve only ever shown you kindness. Is that the work of a demon?” She slowly reached her hand to his. He pulled her to him as he sat cross-legged in the middle of the dojo. He wrapped his arms around her and though she was still frightened she did not struggle. “I’m sorry I frightened you,” he said. “I should have told you about that. Bo, I am not an angel or a devil of your world. The simple truth is, I am from another planet and our species can repair their own bodies. That’s all.”

“Another planet?” She looked at him in curious puzzlement.

“Yes.” He concentrated hard and produced an image of his home world in the air between them, revolving slowly. Wide eyed she reached out to the image, holding her hand by the revolving globe as if she was turning it. “I AM an alien being, Bo. I’m not human. But… human men have caused you so much pain. Can you accept that a man who is not human, not from Earth, can mean only the best for you?”

“Yes,” she said, and leaned nearer to him. He bent and kissed her gently and she reached and put her arms about his neck and returned his kiss.

“That’s nice,” he said. And it was nice. Her kiss, given freely to him, was a sign that she was not emotionally harmed by her terrible experiences at the hands of cruel men. But…

“Bo, precious,” he said. “I want you to know… you ARE free now. I don’t want you to think you have to do anything for me like… like he made you do. The next man to touch you in that way will be one who loves you.”

“Hey,” Cassie looked in at the door of the dojo and saw the two of them in close embrace. She smiled. As fond as she was of Chrístõ, even a little bit in love with him, Terry was the man she expected to spend the rest of her life with. She was pleased to see a possibility there that her beautiful alien might find himself feeling less alone in the universe. “Hi, I’ve made breakfast,” she said. “When you two are ready.”

How strangely domestic it all felt, Chrístõ thought as he showered and dressed in his everyday clothes and went to find the kitchen. There, Cassie made them all sit down around the table while she served a cooked breakfast and poured coffee.

“What happened to Women’s Lib?” Chrístõ asked, teasingly. “Cassie, I never meant for you to be housekeeper on board the TARDIS.”

“I know. And I don’t intend to be. You boys can wash up. I just wanted to do something for everyone. We’re… we’re a team now. And the TARDIS is our home for the next little while.”

“Please,” Bo asked. “What is…” the unfamiliar word puzzled her. “What is the TARDIS?”

“It's where we are,” Terry explained. “Chrístõ’s time and space ship.”

“Give her a break,” Cassie said. “She comes from 1845. They don’t have space ships back then”

“Actually, NONE of us know what the TARDIS REALLY is, come to think of it,” Terry mused. “We both just started calling it that because it's what Chrístõ called it. What does it mean?”

“It's an acronym for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space,” Chrístõ told them all. “And all that really means is that it's a space and time ship with the extra bonus of the dimension circuit that allows it to be small on the outside and as big as we need it to be inside. The TARDIS is a machine… but it's a machine that understands the people in it. It knows that I’m its owner, and it welcomes anyone who I bring in with me as friends. The three of you are known to it now. It will look after you and protect you while you’re aboard.”

“It's our HOME,” Cassie said proudly. She touched Bo on the hand gently. “It's your home, too, Bo, as long as you want it to be. Chrístõ will look after you.”

“Bo,” Chrístõ took her hand gently as he spoke. “I should have explained it all to you better. I brought you here to save you from Marley. You weren’t ASKED if you wanted to become a time traveller with me. Terry and Cassie had the choice. You didn’t. If it's all too overwhelming for you, I can find a safe place for you and take you there.”

“I want to be with you, my Chrístõ,” she told him. “I would like the TARDIS to be my home. I have travelled with bad men so long. I should like to travel with a good one. This is very strange. But… I trust you, Chrístõ. I will be guided by you.”

“So, what next,” Terry asked. “Are we going to see Abu Simbel when it was just built?”

“Not yet,” Chrístõ decided. “I’m not sure Bo is ready for the 13th century B.C. And I think we could all use a break. I think you three could all enjoy a bit of shopping in the era of credit cards.” None of them knew what a credit card was. He smiled. They were in for a treat.

Cassie actually did make him wash up with Terry after breakfast, while she and Bo went to the wardrobe and changed into clothes suitable for the early 21st century. Chrístõ said jeans and t-shirts were always in fashion. When they both returned to the console room, Cassie had dressed just that way, but Bo, for whom it was all a little too new was in an ankle length denim skirt and a white blouse and seemed puzzled though not unhappy by the feel of the modern fabrics.

They emerged into warm summer sun in early August, 2005, in the middle of Williamson Square, Liverpool, where the TARDIS had disguised itself simply as a section of the Square that had been closed off with rough boards, every inch of which was covered in posters. His own symbol featured in an abstract design that looked like an advert for a nightclub. But the TARDIS had also got well into its surroundings by making several of the posters ones that celebrated the fact that Liverpool football club had won the European Championship for the fifth time.

“Hmmm.” Terry considered. “Not a good place to tell people I support Chelsea?”

“No, but if it's any consolation they were English league champions this year.” Terry smiled. Chrístõ laughed. “No, Terry, don’t even think about putting a bet on it when you go back to the 1960s. That’s DEFINITELY against the rules.”

“Never even crossed my mind,” he lied.

“2005!” Cassie said. It was still a shock to her to discover that, after all, the world had not had at least two nuclear wars by now. Though she had learnt from Chrístõ enough of the history of the years since her time to realise it was not an easy ride even so. For the moment though, the sun was shining and 2005 looked a bright, exciting place, and Chrístõ said they could buy anything they wanted. And she couldn’t wait to get to the clothes shops with Bo. She may be from 1845, but she was a GIRL, after all.

It WAS just as much fun as she hoped. Bo was quickly coming to terms with being 160 years into her future. It was easier, Cassie supposed, than being raped daily by a bully who intended to murder her when he was done with her. All that seemed in the past as the two girls rifled through clothes racks and tried on outfits. Cassie gave up worrying about the prices. Chrístõ assured her that people really DID pay THAT much IN 2005 for a skirt that looked like a very wide belt.

When they had chosen the clothes they wanted to buy, and brought them to the checkout, they watched in wonder as Chrístõ paid with a chip and pin credit card. He did the same at the Virgin megastore where he and Terry bought CDs, the greatest hits of Bob Dylan for Chrístõ and the Beatles White Album for Terry, who found it most bewildering to discover that all the bands he had ever heard of were listed under nostalgia.

“But they’re still THERE,” Chrístõ had assured him. “Their music lives forever.” And he told him that the Beatles were on every jukebox in every spaceport and bar in the universe.

He used the plastic card to pay for lunch in a nice restaurant, too, and over coffee he explained first of all the principle of credit cards and electronic banking to one girl from the mid nineteenth century and two people from the 1960s, and then explained why HIS credit card was virtually limitless.

“My family are rich,” he said. “On Gallifrey, the government sits in the capital city, on the northern continent, but it's on the southern one, where I come from, that our mineral wealth is. My family own mines - two gold mines, one silver and one diamonds. I’ve never wanted for money. On Earth, I have bank accounts and credit cards. On other planets, I find diamonds usually speak volumes.”

In another part of his rather thick wallet to the credit cards, he took out a small velvet bag. His three companions looked in awe as he poured out a small fortune in diamonds. Cassie, Terry, even Bo, gasped at the sight. He picked out the two largest ones and gave them to the two girls.

“What does that song say? Diamonds are a girl’s best friend?”

“Not true at all,” Cassie said. “You’re our best friend, Chrístõ, my beautiful alien.” And she kissed his cheek. Bo stared at the diamond and remembered the nightmare she had only just woken from yesterday and began to cry and talk in rapid Mandarin.

“Oh, precious Bo,” Chrístõ said, hugging her. “No, this is not a dream. You needn’t fear waking up to the old nightmare.” He kissed her on the lips for a long, long time. “Tell me that’s a dream.” Then he slipped the rest of the diamonds into the velvet bag and gave it to Terry. “As I said, on other planets diamonds speak volumes as a currency. And even on Earth, if we’re ever separated and you need cash… Or - when the time comes for you two to part from me - that will get you both set up nicely.”

Terry was astonished by the generosity of the gesture. And to think there was MORE where that came from, as Chrístõ insisted.

“You’re incredible” Terry said, as if to take his mind off the fortune that rested in the inside pocket of his jacket. “A rich time traveller. You can see into the future and read people’s minds. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“I can’t do telekenesis,” he said. “Or at least, not very well.”

“You can read minds?” Bo looked at him curiously.

“Yes,” he said. “But I try not to. It's intrusive. It's a violation of them.”

“But you CAN?” Terry insisted. “You can look around this room and tell what people are thinking?”

“Yes, but...” He looked at his friends. He didn’t need to read their minds to know what they were thinking. They ALL wanted him to demonstrate his ability. They didn’t mean anything bad of it. They all just wanted to understand him, understand what made him different from them. But it still felt as if he was under pressure to perform a parlour trick for them. It was, he realised, why he was urged not to disclose his abilities to people he might meet in his travels. They were the first he HAD explained this much to. And their curiosity immediately got the better of them.

“How would you know I’m telling the truth?” he asked evasively.

“I trust you, my Chrístõ,” Bo told him. “You would not lie to me.”

“Same here,” Cassie said. “But if you feel bad about it, then don’t. Terry shouldn’t have pushed the idea.”

“It's ok,” he told her. He looked around and he felt the minds of those around him. It was a licensed bar and restaurant on a Saturday afternoon, so some of the minds were already a little fuddled with alcohol. He tested the emotions first, rather than the thoughts.

“The waiter there is worried. His mum is in hospital. He’s going up to see her when his shift is over.” They all glanced at the waiter taking an order from a couple at a window table. He DID have a distracted air of one whose mind was anywhere but the present moment.

“Oh, that’s sad,” Cassie said. “I hope she gets better.” She understood now, though, what it was that made Chrístõ reluctant to do these things. Yes, it WAS a violation of the private thoughts of a stranger.

“The couple he’s serving,” Chrístõ went on. “They’re not married. The man is worried what excuse he’s going to give his wife later. The woman is thinking twice about going ahead with the affair. She’s wondering if he’s worth the hassle.” He turned his head slightly and read a few other people. Most were thinking about food or drink. A young couple in the corner were thinking about each other. Unlike the adulterer and his friend these two were just in love and besotted with each other.

“You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that,” Terry said with a smile. And it was true enough. Anyone looking their way could see the entwined hands and the smiles for each other. Terry slipped his hand into Cassie’s and gave her a very similar smile. Chrístõ didn’t need to read THEIR mind either when it came to that. He looked around again and focussed.

His hearts thudded as he caught another thought. He stood up from the table, saying nothing to his friends. He walked casually across the floor and stood by a table where two people had just been served drinks.

“Waiter,” he said in a measured voice. “This lady would like a drink that DOESN’T have a mind-numbing drug dissolved in it.”

The woman who had just raised a glass of wine to her lips looked startled. She put the glass down and looked at Chrístõ, the waiter, and then the man by her side.

“You….” she began.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the man said.

“You drink it then,” the woman answered, pushing the glass towards him before standing up and moving away.

“Yes, please do that,” Chrístõ said with a half smile. The waiter turned and signalled to the bar for assistance with the situation.

The man gave an angry cry and grasped the wine glass. He threw it towards Chrístõ, who dodged quickly. The glass smashed onto the floor.

“No evidence,” the man said as he tried to push his way out of trouble. A moment later he was lying on the floor. Nobody even saw Chrístõ move. But they did see the man’s hand open as he slipped into unconsciousness and they saw the label on the pill box he was concealing. The woman looked around to thank the stranger who had saved her from a thoroughly distressing situation. He was gone. His friends who were sitting with him had gone, too.

“I never give statements to police,” Chrístõ said outside in the street. “Takes too long to spell my name right.” His friends said nothing. But they all vowed never again to ask Chrístõ to prove his mental powers to them.

Meanwhile, he was spending money again. This time, on theatre tickets. He gave them to Terry and Cassie and told them there was somewhere he needed to go with Bo and they’d probably have more fun seeing a show. He gave them ordinary cash, too, to buy coffee at a café afterwards where he promised to meet them. Then the foursome split into two couples, two beautiful couples, Cassie thought, and wherever it was Chrístõ was taking Bo, she hoped it was somewhere that would allow them to be more so.

Chrístõ hailed a taxi. It was not a long way, but they’d been walking around shops all morning. He had it drop them off just before the grand ornamental arch that marked the entrance to Liverpool’s small but vibrant Chinatown. Bo’s eyes lit when she saw it. It had been a long time since she had been among her own people. Walking along the little streets with Chinese restaurants and specialist food suppliers and such, she was smiling brightly as she hung on his arm.

There was a special place he wished to bring her, though. Near the end of the street was a small Chinese herbalist with the name of “Mai Li Tuo” on the fascia. They went inside. The smells of rare herbs and spices hung tantalisingly in the air. There was a young Chinese woman behind the counter. She looked up at Chrístõ and bowed, asking if she may help him.

“May I speak with Mai Li Tuo,” he said, bowing in response. “You may tell him it is his friend, Liu Shang Hui.” The girl looked surprised and went to deliver the message through the door at the back of the shop. A moment later an elderly Chinese man in traditional mandarin costume appeared at the door and welcomed them both. Chrístõ took Bo’s hand and brought her through to the back of the shop and outside with the old man into a beautiful Chinese meditation garden. Bo gasped with delight at the sight of it, and tears came to her lovely eyes.

“May I introduce you to Hui Ying Bo Juan,” Chrístõ said. “Bo, precious, this is an old friend of mine, Mai Li Tuo.” The old man bowed and greeted her in Mandarin and she bowed in return and replied joyfully.

“I was just about to take tea,” Li Tuo said and brought them to a wooden pagoda in the garden, where tea in the Chinese style was waiting. Li Tuo and Chrístõ sat cross legged either side of the small, low table and Bo knelt and began to serve the tea. She being the woman of the party it fell to her to perform the duty.

“It has been a while,” Li Tuo said. “Eight years, I think. You haven’t changed much, Shang Hui.”

“Nor have you, Li Tuo.”

“Where we come from, we age slow,” Li Tuo said. Chrístõ smiled. Most people thought Li Tuo was an old and venerable man. Few knew HOW old and venerable. His father had asked him to look him up when he visited Earth, and he had done so, eight years ago, when he had first travelled to the planet that had fascinated him so much through his boyhood. The old exile from Gallifrey had been the one who had arranged his Shaolin training, through his own contacts with the community he had taken as his own in his last life. Li Tuo had given him his Shaolin name, Liu Shang Hui, meaning the Intelligent One. They both considered it a vast improvement on Outcast One.

They said nothing more until the tea was drunk. Chrístõ needed to ask him things about Bo, and preferably not in her hearing. The old man understood. He told her to enjoy the garden while the two of them talked.

“1845?” Li Tuo questioned. “And Shaolin trained.”

“Yes.”

“She must have been destined for that from birth,” Li Tuo said. “Did you notice her feet are unbound. Female children of that time would have their feet bound to keep them small. But one destined for the Shaolin would not be so encumbered.” When he heard how she had been so shamelessly treated, Li Tuo’s blood rose. “But now you have taken her from that travesty of her life.”

“Yes, though the life I offer her is a strange one. I hope she can adjust.”

There is no home she can return to?”

“She says not. All were murdered. Li Tuo… I thought… Do you remember when we met the last time? You read my ‘fortune’. You said that before I returned to my home I would meet the woman who would be my wife and soul-mate. I wondered if Bo could be the one. But I couldn’t read her at first. The drugs in her body inhibited it. And now she has travelled in the time vortex I can’t read her accurately at all. But I feel…”

Li Tuo took his hand and held it tightly. Only a Time Lord could read the future of another Time Lord. And it was something they didn’t try to do often. They didn’t always like what they found.

“No,” he said at last. “She is not the one. That meeting is still to come. And you WILL know when it happens. Yes, you do feel something for her. And I don’t need any psychic power to see she has feelings for you.” They both looked around to where Bo walked by the lily pond. She paused and looked back and smiled as Chrístõ’s gaze met hers. “Your destiny is to love her for a little while, to show her that men’s love CAN be trusted, to mend her broken heart, her wounded spirit. But I see you giving her up to another after that.”

“That will be hard,” Chrístõ said.

“Your path IS a hard one,” Li Tuo said. “I see such danger and hardship in your future. Your thirst for adventure will lead you into such dark paths. And there is a touch of the renegade in you, Shang Hui.”

“Renegade? Never. I am a loyal Gallifreyan.” Renegade was a hard word to put against any Time Lord. It was an epithet given to those who had disgraced their Houses in ways only whispered about.

“Yes. I believe you are. But you have a strong spirit. And Gallifrey’s laws sit heavily on you. Some would say your rescuing Bo was a renegade action. It certainly bends the rules if it doesn’t break them. But I see you have been taught the dark meaning of that word. You know the legends of those few of our kind who flaunted the law and were forces of darkness. But there are those who would be called Renegade who have tried to be a force of light. I think you would be one of those.”

“I am loyal,” Chrístõ said again. “I respect our law. I honour the High Council. I… My destiny is to be a part of that society. My father hopes I will be an ambassador for the Council on one of our allied planets.”

“A fine ambition. Though in my experience sons need their own ambitions. And you will, doubtless, find yours somewhere on that dark, hard path you have set before you.”

“Along with the woman I shall love forever.”

“Forever is a long time for us, Shang Hui.”

“For you, not so long,” Chrístõ said, looking at the old man.

“No, I fear I should not be a guest at your wedding, Shang Hui, even if they did lift my Banishment. I shall die before many years are out. And I shall die on this planet, a long way from our home. But I’ve lived long enough. I’ve done all I desired to do. I won’t expect anyone to grieve for me, though I hope you will think fondly of me from time to time.”

“I will.”

Li Tuo smiled and looked towards Bo. “You had best take your precious jewel and be on your way now. Remember, you are loving her for a short while only. Her destiny is elsewhere.”

“I will remember that,” Chrístõ promised. Though when he went to her in the garden his first action was to embrace her in his arms and kiss her. If she was his for only a little while, at least he might make the most of that time.

She had a request of him, and it was one that surprised but did not displease, and which Li Tuo was happy to fulfil. When they returned to the city centre, she had, in addition to her fashion purchases of earlier, a very large and heavy box of herbs and spices and oils and the tools of Chinese medicine. She told him it was a skill that might be useful in the TARDIS. Chrístõ may be able to make himself well, but she could take care of the others of the crew. He was so pleased that she had chosen her role in their team for herself he was happy to buy anything she said she needed.

The TARDIS was exactly as it had been left when they all returned to Williamson Square in the early evening - except that somebody had scrawled “Up the Toffees” across the Champions of Europe poster. Chrístõ smiled at that as he unlocked the door and they slipped inside. It had been a good day. He needed more like it. Especially if his path was going to be as dark and dangerous as Li Tuo had suggested.