Eyes Of Conscience

“I know exactly how you feel,” The Master smiled.  He passed a reflection of himself in the chrome surface.  “Oh well, I look the same,” he sighed.  “Could not expect otherwise as I cannot really regenerate... But I am constantly revenant!”

Dorothy’s Home

Dorothy sat on Nancy’s empty, cold bed.  Since their last adventure her daughter had cut off all ties with Luke, refusing to even speak to him over the phone.  Dorothy had tried in vain to get Nancy to see reason and make her understand that Luke loves her, even if she does turn into a cat every once in awhile.  That was true love.  Nancy was unconvinced and had decided to stay in Australia with Tegan and Turlough.

That was six months ago and Dorothy still felt heartbroken.  Not just because of her daughter’s stubborn attitude but because she kept thinking of how The Master had saved her from The RANI.  Allowing glass shards to deeply embed themselves into his blood.  Why? she mused, “I would have married you!” she sighed.  “Like you always wanted.”

Dorothy sighed.  Sitting here was not going to cheer her.  Best find something to do.  She began to realise why her mother was the way she was towards her, her mother had only tried to reason with her love.  Because of the way she acted at sixteen she could not even turn to her own mother.  The house was eerily silent.  No music, no voices.  Nothing.  

The Doctor stayed with her overnight this time, making sure she was well but as soon as dawn broke he was gone with the currents of the wind.

Time and tide wait for no man.  Seemingly, they were tapping their feet impatiently and checking their watches for The Doctor.  Dorothy put the kettle on.  She had not gone into work for months now.  Depression had set in and she just lived in her pyjama’s.  In one fell swoop she had lost the man she loved and the daughter she never thought she would even have.  The only light in her life was Luke Smith but even he moped and hardly spoke,.

Luke barely ate anything now.  Pushing food around his plate sighing.  Such a dense gloom.  Dorothy wished something would happen.  Why couldn’t something happen?  Luke was slouching in the living room staring at a blank TV screen.

“Why don’t you switch it on?” she asked Luke gently.

“Can’t be bothered!” Luke sighed.  “Nothing on anyway.”

Dorothy flicked through the Radio Times.  “Horrible Histories is on!” she exclaimed.

Luke glared at her.  His dark eyes glittered hatefully at her.  “I SAID I DO NOT WANT TO WATCH TELEVISION!” he yelled as he got up off the couch and stormed out of the house.

Dorothy gulped.  “How do you think I feel, Luke?” she murmured., “I had the prospect of marriage and a daughter now I have neither.  I may as well give up!”

Dorothy did not think she could carry on her life.  What was it worth?  Nothing! THAT was it was worth.  Sighing, she took a sip of her tea.  Curling up in her comfiest chair she had picked up the latest Le Carre novel when the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be at this time of year?” she asked herself as she extricated herself from the chair.  Sluggishly she walked to the door and opened it.  “Yes?” she snapped.

“Sthcuse me,” a sibilant voice started, “Are you Dorothy MsSthane?”

“Yes,” Dorothy sighed.  “Look if it’s selling something I ain’t interested!”

“Oh no,” a young woman stepped forward lifting a robe from her head.  All Dorothy saw were rose red apple like cheeks, “Take her my dear Mambites!”