Do the Trains run on time?

This isn’t the story of how I met the Doctor, rather of how I left him.

Stories need a beginning of course, but I shall be brief- it isn’t that important.

It was the year 2207, and I lived on the colony world of Veta. That makes it sound exciting, but since we were just a poor faming community this would be an exaggeration. My grandfather had arrived 40 years before, lived a dull life, then died. My father had been born shortly after he arrived and- though not yet dead- his life was no less dull. I’d been spat out into the world 15 years before the Doctor arrived, and my life was already boring enough that death couldn’t seem to come fast enough.

Of course when the marooned Skeid started killing people off my perspective changed. Whether this was because I genuinely feared death, or simply because I didn’t want to die now life was finally exciting, is anyone’s guess.

You don’t need to know how the Doctor and his companions defeated the Skeid (as I said this isn’t that story) but they did.

The Doctor wanted to depart soon after this. Given how mundane Veta was I couldn’t blame him. Our community had other ideas though, throwing a banquet in his honour which his companions bullied him into attending.

I snuck away from the festivities early. Though he was by far the most interesting fellow I’d ever met, and though his companions were lovelier than any woman I’d encountered thus far in my, admittedly, short life, my curiosity was piqued by his ship, sat in the East meadow.

The ship that had brought my people to this planet had long since been chopped up for parts, but I’d seen enough history tapes to know what a space ship was supposed to look like, and a blue box seemed pretty far from that ideal.

I circled it warily, expecting someone to jump out and ask me what I was doing at any moment. I’d circumnavigated it three times (which didn’t take long) before deciding it was safe to approach.

I nervously touched the outer shell, my fingers pulling back almost immediately as if expecting the surface to be red hot.

It wasn’t, and when I touched it again I held my palm flat against the surface. It was what it appeared to be, a box made out of wood! And so small! I wondered just how cramped it was inside for the three of them.

I was supposed to be glossing over all this wasn’t I?

To cut a long story short I found my way inside. Tegan, as it turned out, had left the door ajar, a mistake for which the Doctor later berated her like an angry schoolmaster while she stifled a smile with limited success.

Once inside everything was a blur: Bigger on the inside/ the Doctor returning/ me hiding/ the TARDIS dematerialising/ me discovered…

This took a while of course, but we don’t have all day.

By the time I was found we were far from Veta, both in time and distance. The Doctor was indignant (and I soon learned that this grumpiness was not a one off) and resolved to take me right back. Tegan folded her arms and scowled at me. Only Nyssa smiled.

Of course our return flight was interrupted when an aberrant time vortex drew the TARDIS off course and deposited us in the scarlet mists of Bux, where we narrowly avoided becoming the supper of a giant toad.

By the time we escaped Peter Tremayne (that’s me) was officially part of the crew.

Except I wasn’t, not really. The Doctor tolerated me, and Tegan barely acknowledged me. It wasn’t that she didn’t like me, I just seemed to remind her of someone, and with that memory came pain and sadness, so she distanced herself from me. Nyssa was friendlier, but even her friendship was tainted with a somewhat clinical edge, as if I were some kind of experiment.

As out of place as I felt though, life in the TARDIS was certainly exiting.

Until the day came when my stint as companion came to an end…

‘Where are we going now?’ Tegan asked in that resigned way of hers.

The Doctor smiled, standing back from the console with his hands in his pockets, jacket pushed back behind him. ‘I have no idea.’

‘But I just saw you set the coordinates,’ interjected Nyssa.

‘That’s true, but I’m just following an anomalous energy reading, I have no idea where it is, or what’s causing it.’

‘So why are we following it?’ I asked, dismayed that I seemed to have picked up Tegan’s whininess.

‘Why not?’ said the Doctor, he took his hand from his pocket and flipped a switch with all the theatrically of a stage magician. A moment later the time rotor stopped moving. We had arrived.

The Doctor scowled. ‘Odd, the viewscreen isn’t working and I get no reading from the yearometer.’

‘Probably a side effect of the localised energy flux,’ said Nyssa. I hoped she understood what she was talking about, because I didn’t.

The Doctor’s frown was short lived. The man could flit from sullen to overexcited at the tiniest encouragement. ‘Oh well, one way for sure to find out what’s out there.’ He unfolded his hat and placed it on his head. ‘Peter, come with me, you two stay inside for now.’

Tegan muttered something dark at this, Nyssa merely nodded.

I, on the other hand, trembled. Exciting it was, but life in the TARDIS was also scary, because you never knew what was outside that door. What kind of bizarre alien environment was waiting…

The moment we stepped outside my fears were realised, a high-pitched whistle drilled through my brain, and pungent smoke assaulted my nostrils.

I squealed, tried to run back inside the TARDIS. Only the Doctor’s hand on my shoulder halting me.

‘It’s only a train.’

I knew what a train was, had seen them in those history tapes, and as the smoke cleared, and the whistle diminished in volume, I saw the end carriage disappearing off into the distance.

I also noticed for the first time that the TARDIS had landed on the end of a platform, and there were a multitude of people here.

The Doctor looked around him, taking in the station itself- both drab platforms of it- and the people, a motley bunch, all of them children or teenagers, and all dressed in ill-fitting clothing. They looked scared; some huddled together in groups, others alone, cuddling suitcases to their bosom as they might a teddy bear.

‘Curious,’ said the Doctor.

‘Is it?’ I asked. ‘It’s just the past, right?’

He scowled at me. ‘Well it may be the past, the question is when? The past is a rather large place.’

‘Whenever there were steam trains?’ I suggested.

‘Nice idea, but not much help.’

‘Why not?’

He sighed- he did that a lot when I asked questions. ‘The station, the train, their clothing. All of it is consistent with the 1930’s.’

I almost hated to state the obvious. ‘So could it be the 1930’s?’

He shook his head. ‘I doubt it, they didn’t have those back then,’ and he gestured to where several of the children were animatedly talking into mobile phones. ‘And they certainly didn’t have anything like that,’ and he pointed to where a holographic clock hung in midair between the platforms. ‘This is most peculiar.’

He strode off then, with me close behind him. Nobody paid us much heed as we moved amongst them. Well almost nobody.

She did.

She was my age, maybe a year or so older, and even if she hadn’t been staring at me I’d have noticed her. The corn yellow hair, the pale blue eyes…laugh all you want, she was beautiful!

I was about to smile back when a beep sounded, followed by a voice echoing metallically out of several speakers on both platforms.

‘The next train arriving is the 15:35 to Budapest. All passengers for this train please get ready.’

The children became suddenly animated, and I noticed they all held brown paper tickets in their hands. Several of them stood now, and there were some tears and farewell hugs as a dark locomotive trailing three carriages drew up beside the platform.

Somehow I wasn’t surprised that the train was already half full.

The Doctor was ignoring it though; instead he’d spotted a porter; a sickly chap with wire thin limbs. He made straight for him and I followed dumbly behind, even as the 15:35 to Budapest moved off.

‘Hello there,’ said the Doctor brightly.

‘Hello, Sir,’ said the porter dourly. 

‘I was wondering if you could help me.’

‘That’s what I’m here for Sir,’ said the porter.

‘What station is this?’

‘What station, Sir? It’s Penribbon of course.’

‘Of course,’ smiled the Doctor. ‘And what year?’

The porter regarded the Doctor strangely. ‘Are you feeling all right, Sir?’

The Doctor gave another sigh, I was glad this one wasn’t aimed at me. ‘Where are all these children going?’

‘They’re being evacuated, away from the fighting.’

‘Evacuated to where?’

I’m not ashamed to say I lost track of the conversation after this, mainly because the girl with corn yellow hair had sidled up to me, and this close her beauty was magnified tenfold.

‘Hi there,’ she said.

‘Hello,’ I replied, though in truth it was a strangled gasp barely recognisable as a word.

She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. Though her clothes were worn and dirty her face was clean and bright, and her eyes twinkled. At her feet was a battered suitcase. A ticket fluttered in her hand.

‘I’m Megan. I didn’t see you on the coach.’

‘I’m Peter. We just arrived.’

Her brow crinkled. ‘I hadn’t thought anymore coaches were following.’

‘Er…it’s complicated,’ I stammered.

She didn’t press further. ‘Is that your Dad?’ she asked pointing over my shoulder.

‘God no,’ I replied with a nervous laugh. ‘He’s my…he’s my doctor.’

‘Are you ill?’ she asked.

‘No, I’m in perfect health.’

She laughed again. ‘You’re a strange one, but handsome I’ll say that.’ I felt myself start to blush. ‘And…’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know, just something about you. You’ve still got life in your eyes. Don’t see that much anymore.’

‘You’ve got it,’ I observed.

Megan nodded. ‘Yeah, Lord knows why but I always see the bright side of any situation. Like now.’

‘Like now?’

‘Well here I am about to leave my home forever, and I meet you.’

Could I have blushed more? I was actually pleased when the Doctor reappeared by my side. He was scowling over his shoulder. Following his gaze I saw the porter walking off down the platform.

‘Man’s a blithering idiot, can’t even answer a simple question.’ He noticed Megan for the first time now and extended a hand. ‘Hello, I’m the Doctor.’

‘I’m Megan.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Megan. So tell me, where are you being evacuated to?’

‘Edinburgh.’

He smiled, jabbing his hands back into his pockets. ‘Finally someone with some brains.’

She reddened at this- oddly I was jealous.

‘Now Megan, this might be a curious question, but what’s the date?’

‘September first,’ she answered. ‘That’s not curious. It’s hard to keep track these days.’

‘Harder than you can imagine,’ said the Doctor. ‘What year is it?’

The look on her face said she did find this curious. ‘It’s year seven,’ she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Year Seven of?’

‘Year Seven of the Graven Calendar.’

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Is that the Graven Calendar pre or post the Framlexx conflict?’

‘Excuse me?’

The Doctor smiled. ‘That’ll be pre then.’ He looked around at the station then with new eyes. ‘Suddenly this all makes more sense.’

The claxon sounded again. ‘The next train arriving will be the 15:49 to Paris.’  

As the train pulled into view the Doctor shook Megan’s hand again and thanked her. ‘Come on Peter, let’s go tell the others it’s safe to stick their heads out.’

My gaze met hers. There was a hint of a plea in her eyes. ‘Can I wait here?’ I asked.

He looked at Megan, then smiled at me. ‘Of course you can. I’ll be right back.’

Megan smiled coyly. ‘Thought I’d lost you for a minute there.’

I shook my head vigorously. ‘Not a chance.’

And then it happened.

‘Apologies,’ came the announcement. ‘The train at platform one is actually the 16:10 to Edinburgh.’

There were a torrent of groans at this, and several children had to get off the train whilst others had to hastily grab their belongings and run for the nearest carriage.

And Megan was amongst them. ‘It’s my train!’ she yelped, reaching down to grab her suitcase. The handle snapped in her hand, and I saw tears begin to form in her lovely eyes.

‘Don’t worry,’ I said, snatching up her bag in both hands. ‘Go! I’m right behind you.’

I wasn’t even thinking that I’d never see her again, I just wanted to ensure she got safely on the train, and had no more need to cry.  We bundled our way through the throng and she clambered onboard. I was ready to pass the case to her but she didn’t reach back to get it.

Looking closer I saw the inside of the train was packed almost solid. The only way to get her case to her was to climb aboard myself.

I didn’t even pause, using the case as a battering ram to force my way on board.

‘Megan!’ I shouted, spotting her several yards away trying to get to her feet, which wasn’t easy as she had little room to maneuver.

It was then that something struck me on the head- later I’d learn it was an unsecured valise- and I fell to the floor. I wasn’t knocked unconscious, but I was dazed long enough for the doors to be slammed shut and the train to move off. 

As I recall this tale now, I am just shy of my 50th birthday. It is the year 1645, and I sit in a dirty- but exceptionally clean for the time- tenement in Edinburgh.

Megan died last year, taken by the plague. I miss her terribly, but find comfort in the 35 good years we shared.

I never saw the Doctor again, don’t know if he searched for me or not. I like to think that he did.

Arriving in 1610 was a shock- Megan at least had been prepared- and it took years before I accepted the reality of my situation. I was born on a distant planet in the 23^rd century, but would die on Earth in the 17^th. I don’t mind now, I just long to be reunited in the next world with Megan.

But sometimes I still hope to see the Doctor again…one more time.