'I never asked – who are these Daniels people anyhow?' Rose asked as the Time Rotor finally stopped moving and the TARDIS came to a rest.
'No idea.'
'What? I thought you were friends with them!'
'Never met anyone named Daniels before,' the Doctor revealed cheerily. 'It's why I arrived a few days earlier, so we have time to track 'em down and make nice.' He glanced at his watch. 'We've arrived five days before the Titanic is due to set sail.'
'You sure about that this time? Because the last two landings we were too early and then too late...'
'Well, you know what they say about stopped watches,' the Doctor retorted, brushing aside her good-natured teasing and his own annoyance over the truth of her words. 'Don't worry, I had a chat with the TARDIS while you were down for the count, and our ETAs should be a bit more accurate now. There's a part that needs to replacing, but I've finagled it into behaving itself. For now. After we finish up here, though, remind me to head to Calufrax for some voolium – and don't forget, because I'm liable to. Paralysingly dull planet, so it's likely to slip my mind.'
'Right, cos now I'm your secretary?'
'Companion, remember? Comes with certain responsibilities – and benefits, if you know what I mean.'
'Hm, gotta admit, the health package is pretty impressive,' Rose pretended to consider, glancing down at her leg.
'There we go,' he grinned. 'Well, go on – go get dressed and we'll be off.'
She started for the door and then turned around.
'Hold on, mister – you've got to get changed too.'
The Doctor snorted, 'Not going to happen.'
'But in the picture, you were dressed like the people in this time period.'
'Just because you saw that, doesn't mean that's how it went,' he told her. 'You were right, the other day. When you guessed I wore a perception filter. I don't always need to use it, but it comes in handy occasionally.'
'I bet,' Rose deadpanned. 'So what will other people see?'
'Depends on what they expect.'
'Sort of like the psychic paper?'
'Yes. But not exactly,' the Doctor agreed. 'Psychic paper is more complex. A perception filter is more like a dull gloss. Sort of blurring the information being sent to your visual cortex. Nothing more than an optical illusion.'
'All right...' Rose agreed hesitantly.
'I can show you, if you don't mind the TARDIS involving herself.'
'You mean go into my head? Like with the translation circuits?'
'In this case, yes, because you already see past it. But only if I have your permission.'
Rose deliberated for a long moment and finally nodded. 'Okay.'
The Doctor relayed the message back to the TARDIS that she ought to dim Rose's awareness of his perception filter for a moment. 'What do you see?'
Rose blinked, appearing startled. 'It's a bit... hard to describe. It's like, I'm looking right at you, but my eyes sort of want to look away from it.'
'Try to see it from the corner of your eye.'
Rose squinted.
'It's sort of like... from the picture. You've got one of these...' she gestured ineffectually at his neck. 'S'like a scarf or something?'
'Cravat, most likely.'
'A what?'
'Silly bit of foppery,' the Doctor dismissed. 'I used to wear them all the time.'
'Really?' Rose giggled. 'It's so not you.'
'And that's why I don't wear them anymore.'
'So how comes I can see you in that, when I don't even know what a cravat is?'
'Because that's what you saw when you first looked at the photo and your memory's compensated for that,' he explained. 'But if you were to look at that photo again now that you know me, you would see me as I am now.'
'Oh.'
The TARDIS retreated from Rose's mind, and she blinked back to full awareness.
'Back to normal?' he asked.
'Yeah.'
'Good.'
'So why don't you?'
'Hm?'
'Dress up. You make me do it all the time.'
'I don't make you do anything. You enjoy it, don't you?'
'Well, yeah... and you don't?'
'Not anymore,' he hedged. 'I used to... all the time. It was a laugh, blending in to the culture and experiencing different times and worlds as the locals did. But the closer it got to the... well.'
'Oh.'
'There was no time for it anymore. Now... Well, if I don't have to, it's a lot of bother to go through when I'll just end up running for my life.'
'Hah! Least you're admitting it now,' Rose teased lightly, and then looked doubtful. 'Should I not get changed then?'
'You do as you please. It's just, it always seems like females – or female equivalents of most species – enjoy dressing up.'
She reflected on that and then asked. 'Doctor, do perception filters also fool cameras?'
'Depends on how strong they are. Mine, for example, is excellent. The only reason you see it is the same reason you see the TARDIS. You know us both too well. But anyone else won't even comment on it – and primitive cameras like these aren't likely to pick up on it either.'
'Oh.'
'Do you... do you want me to make you a perception filter like that? So that you don't have to get dressed up?'
'Um... maybe some other time? You're right, I'm still having too much fun. The clothes are so vintage. I want to find something like what Kate Winslet wore in the film,' Rose decided.
The Doctor rolled his eyes.
'You humans and your celebrity fascinations...'
· ΘΣ ·
Once Rose returned to the control room, dressed in the eggplant coloured skirt and jacket, the Doctor informed her that they had landed near the Southampton port.
'So you went out without me again?' she cried, feeling childishly upset at the notion. At the same time, she suspected the Doctor would be double-checking most of their landings for the next little while. At least until the sting of his twelve-month delay in bringing her home wore off.
'Poked my head out,' he shrugged. 'Had to make sure. Just as well, really, as we need to find the Daniels family and this is the best place to do it.'
'How's that, then?' She did not understand how one found anything in this time without a handy internet search.
'Passenger manifest and billing information for anyone with a ticket,' the Doctor replied keenly. 'The office will have all that information on-hand.'
'Oh – suppose that makes sense.'
To her surprise, he didn't take her hand as they exited the TARDIS, and the entire walk to the office, he kept a respectable distance from her. She frowned, but didn't comment on it – sometimes he got like that – and tried her best to keep up. It was a challenge, even though she'd taken the precaution of ignoring the buckled shoes the TARDIS provided in favour of a pair of black trainers.
Upon reaching their destination, the Doctor explained that it would be best if he go in alone. He could easily pretend he was an officer with the company whereas a woman would have no place there. Rose didn't argue, only because she needed to take the time to rest her feet.
'Did you get it?' Rose asked the Doctor forty-five minutes later as he strolled back out of the offices.
'Was there ever a doubt?' he shot back boastfully as he shoved the psychic paper back into his pocket. 'Not my first rodeo. No one bothered you, did they?'
'Nah – though one bloke dressed all in white wouldn't stop staring. It's really that rare for a woman to be around here?'
'Yep. Unless you're a practitioner of the world's oldest profession.'
'What's that?'
'Prostitution.'
Rose gaped at him a moment, and before she'd even thought it through, she reached out and thwacked him hard in the shoulder.
'Ow!' he yelped.
'You tosser! Why didn't you tell me that's what I looked like just standing there!' she cried.
'You didn't ask –'
'It's not something I would've thought to ask!'
'And how's that my fault?'
'You're always going on about how stupid humans are, you'd think you'd have some kind of list of rules or warnings. Like, "even if you're kitted out like bleeding Mary Poppins, people might think you're a prozzy".'
'I have warnings – and rules. Rule number one: Don't wander off. Only rule you need.'
'Does it apply to you too?' she grumbled as they moved farther away from the office. 'Where're we off to now?'
'Bridger Street. The office was most helpful. And less abusive. If I'd ever had any doubt you were related to Jackie Tyler, it's been sorted.'
They hailed a cab, and perhaps in recompense for his earlier behaviour, he helped her inside with the same gallantry of any man from this century. He surprised her by actually having the right amount of money to pay the fare. She didn't comment on it this time besides a meaningful quirk of her eyebrow, to which he glowered in response.
The ride was jolting, thanks to the state of the roads, and smelled of horse manure the entire time.
The Doctor had the driver stop a few streets away from the address he'd been given, so that they could pretend they had arrived there by chance. His plan was to knock on the door and pretend to ask for directions.
'That's it? Nothing more complicated than that?' Rose asked.
'What's wrong with that?'
'A bit boring, for a cover story.'
'We probably won't even need it. It's just in case. I've found that when you just show up somewhere, it's easy to have people tell you who they believe you are.'
'If you say so,' Rose allowed as he knocked on the door.
For a few moments, nothing happened, before the door creaked open and a small, round-faced young woman in an outfit like the one Gwyneth had worn peeped out. 'May I help you?'
'Good morning,' Rose replied. 'My name's Rose Tyler, and this is the Doctor –'
'Another doctor?' the woman interrupted, eyes wide in something confusion and possibly hope. 'I thought there wasn't anyone else to call for!'
The Doctor didn't even pause.
'Yes, well, I'm a specialist from up in Manchester, in town for a conference,' he blustered, shooting Rose a significant look. 'I got a telegram today regarding the case from a doctor... doctor... can't remember the name – Miss Tyler, did you write it down? Honestly, most unorganised nurse I've ever had –'
'Doctor Sinclair?' the woman supplied.
'That's the one! Anyhow, he thought the case would interest me and here I am. You're rather lucky you caught me, as I was about to board the train back home.'
'Oh, thank goodness – do come in, sir. We were beginning to think there was no one left we could turn to.'
She moved out of the way to let them through, and after exchanging somewhat curious glances, the Doctor and Rose did exactly that.
The house was sparsely furnished, but evidently not due to financial hardship. Instead, the presence of several travel trunks and parcels showed that the occupants of the house were in the middle of packing or moving.
The Doctor cleared his throat.
'Now, Sinclair only told me enough to whet my appetite for the case, but he was rather vague on the details. Before I meet the patient, could you give me a bit of background?'
'Sir, I'm only the housekeep –'
'Yes, and servants talk and generally know what goes on in a household better – and more honestly – than anyone who lives there. You might have noticed something the masters of the house didn't.'
'Not as such, sir. It came on so quickly,' the housekeeper told them as she brought them the creaking stairs. 'Our Gracie was fine, and then yesterday morn she wouldn't wake. It's almost like a spell from a fairy-tale – and her poor mother. All on her own right now and with them to sail to America come Friday...' She sighed. ' If there's sickness – well, I heard they only screen third class passengers, but I don't know what they'll do if they can't board the ship. Especially since Mr Daniels is up in London closing the accounts. If all this continues, they'll have to cancel the trip...'
'I'm sure they'll survive,' the Doctor answered, trading a knowing look with Rose. 'Obviously the priority here is the girl, isn't it?'
'Oh, of course!' the housekeeper said. 'We've moved Gracie out of the nursery and into the spare room. The other children were obviously upset, but it seemed the best idea.'
'Good idea,' Rose piped up. 'Hopefully that will keep the others from getting sick.'
'It is our fervent hope,' the housekeeper sighed sadly.
The Doctor leaned down to whisper to Rose. 'It's not exactly the best bit of news, that. During this time period, moving a relative into the spare room during illness means they think she's going to die.' Straightening up, he went on, 'And the other children? They haven't shown any odd symptoms?'
'None that have been noticed –'
There was the sound of a bell ringing somewhere.
'Forgive me, I have to go see about that,' the housekeeper apologised. 'It's just down the hall to the left.'
Rose waited until the housekeeper was out of earshot, before whispering, 'Doctor, if... if they're already going to cancel the trip, why do we need to be here?'
'Think about it – once in a lifetime trip, to a new world and a new life. Whatever the girl has would need to be pretty damn serious for the entire family to cancel their trip. Most people desperate enough for a new start – and they must be if Mr Daniels is closing all his accounts – would just drag an unconscious family member on board. Not cancel their plans.'
'I guess... unless it was serious, yeah? Like chicken pox?'
'Mm. Except it's not. Considering they've apparently exhausted every doctor available, yet there's no sign of tuberculosis quarantine or other current epidemics, it must be something different.'
They entered the room that had been indicated to them, and Rose's heart went out to the pale figure beneath the thick feather bed. The girl couldn't have been more than ten.
The Doctor lost no time in kneeling down to examine her, sonic screwdriver outstretched.
'I was right,' he said after a moment. 'Nothing simple in this.'
'D'you know what it is?'
'Haven't the faintest. But whatever it is, it's shutting down her systems one by one.'
'Excuse me, who do you think you are?' someone demanded from the doorway, and before they could stand a woman in taffeta sailed into the room, eyes sparking with fury. 'Get away from my child this instant!'
'Mrs Daniels?' Rose guessed.
'I'm the Doctor,' her companion introduced. 'Come to investigate the case of young Grace Daniels? I suppose the housekeeper didn't inform you yet.'
'No,' Mrs Daniels breathed, a little of the fire going out of her. 'But if that's true, you're in the wrong room. Gracie is...' She trailed off as the Doctor and Rose moved aside and she really looked at the nightgown clad figure on the bed.
The colour in her cheeks disappeared.
'That's not Gracie. That's Carolyn.'
The Doctor and Rose exchanged grim glances as the ramifications of that set in.
'Good thing we got here when we did, then,' the Doctor decided.
After that, everything happened very quickly.
With the two eldest Daniels children ailing, there was no question of the Doctor and Rose leaving – even if Mrs Daniels hadn't insisted they stay.
'Every other doctor we've had since yesterday gave up within a few hours,' she explained. 'They said she must have hit her head, but there's no sign of it anywhere. And the other children say that's not what happened – oh, Doctor, if there's anything you can do...?'
Her voice was pleading, several notches beyond despair.
'I'll do what I can, until the last,' the Doctor answered. 'I can promise you that, if nothing else.'
'Oh, bless you!'
The first thing the Doctor did was order Grace moved back into the nursery so that he could keep an eye on both her and Carolyn. The youngest children, Lawrence and baby Mary, were brought to stay in the spare room. He also rattled off an impressive list of advice with the convincing bluster of an actual doctor, demanding how the children were being fed and cared for up until then. He continued to snap about needing to keep their bodies strong enough to fight whatever was wrong with them. Rose's head spun as he went on about vitamins and minerals and tannins, but something must have gotten through because everything he demanded was procured by the desperate family.
Their willingness to aid the Doctor in any way was encouraging at first, but it soon became evident to Rose that they were hindering more than helping.
Mrs Oswald, the housekeeper, alternated between sitting with the two sick children and looking out for the healthy ones. Meanwhile, Mrs Daniels fretted over the expense in having to cancel their trip on the Titanic. It got to the point where the Doctor turned them out of the nursery, claiming they were agitating the children with their "emotional vapours".
'What are vapours?' Rose wanted to know as the two women grudgingly did as he instructed.
'Nothing more than a handy remnant of the Victorian age,' he grunted. 'About as credible a medical diagnosis as the dreaded lurgi. Could probably blame a murder on vapours with the frequency you lot used to use that excuse.'
'So coming up with an actual, real diagnosis was too much trouble for you?'
'No, cos then they'd inevitably ask questions – not the right questions, but boring questions. At least giving them something they've heard of, less questions being asked and the annoying people leave the room all the quicker. Which is what I wanted, so that I could do this.' He whipped out the sonic which had disappeared when Mrs Daniels first entered the room. 'Couldn't detect any foreign microbes in the air before, but this is a little more precise.'
Rose grinned. 'So there is something you're not perfect at?'
The familiar whirring sound filled the air and the blue light echoed off the faces of the unconscious children. 'Nope. Nothing foreign in the air, not even trace elements.' He grimaced. 'Hear that?'
They were silent a moment, nothing but the slightly laboured breathing of the kids. Rose cocked her head one side, not understanding what he was getting at, before her confusion cleared. 'Their breathing sounds a bit funny.'
'Sounds like the beginnings of pneumonia,' the Doctor confirmed. 'Whatever's sapping their immune system is priming them for infection. Pneumonia's hard enough to beat in your time, but these days?'
'Can you cure them?'
'The pneumonia's a symptom. I can treat it, yeah, but the overall cause won't be affected,' the Doctor answered grimly. 'All I'll be able to do is offer temporary treatments.'
'Guess we need to figure out what's going on then,' Rose resolved.
'Here,' he told her absently, passing something over to her.
She blinked as she realised it was the psychic paper. 'Why're you giving me this?'
'Got a job for you. Reconnaissance, as it were.'
'Meaning?'
'I need to find out more about what's going on here, to narrow down the disease. I told you earlier there's no sign of quarantine?' At her nod, he continued, 'So if it's not contagious or an epidemic, it might narrow our options down a bit. But if there's anyone else in the city suffering from this, it means it's something else again.'
'So you want me to...?'
'Go out there, knock on doors and question people in the street. Find out if anyone else is sick, and if so for how long, where they live – anything like that might help. Use the psychic paper if you get into trouble.'
'Got it.' She headed for the door.
'And Rose?'
'Yeah?' She glanced back, only to find that he was once more intent over the two unconscious children.
'Early twentieth century Southampton might not be the safest city around, but you're jeopardy friendly enough to devastate their crime statistic for generations. Take that housekeeper with you and stay out of the dodgy areas.'
He wasn't looking at her. His tone of voice was the usual mixture of absent and somewhat insulting, but Rose had started recognising the subtext of the Doctor's speech.
'Yeah, well, mysterious disease? You be careful, too,' she told him. His head whipped up, and he looked like he was about to start on one of his lecture about superior biology. 'And try not to get thrown out of here for fraud, yeah?'
'Of the two of us, who's gone to medical school?' he challenged.
'Didn't graduate though, did you?' she shot back with a wink.
She left the room before he could offer a rejoinder.
· ΔΩ ·