There was a dull whumph near her head, and she glanced up to see the Doctor had made it across the stream without even getting wet. Of course he had. But he also had a long branch in his hand that he thrust into the water.
‘Grab it!’
‘I’ll pull you in.’
‘No you won’t,’ he insisted.
Swimming against the torrent, she got hold of the Doctor’s lifeline, grasping it with both hands. The Doctor pulled back, slipped and toppled into the water with a splash.
The branch slipped from her fingers and washed away. The Doctor was floundering in the water ahead of her, all arms and legs. Some rescue attempt.
Something whacked her on the side. It was a large rock, standing firm in the water, the torrent gushing around it.
She grabbed it and held on tight. The Doctor rushed by and she snatched at him, grasping his jacket.
Her fingers slipped on the wet stone, and she thought they would be dragged away again, but her grip held. Spitting water from his mouth, the Doctor took hold of the rock and, ignoring the pain from the fish that were literally making a meal of their extremities, they helped each other out of the water and onto the bank.
The Doctor rolled on his back, gulping for air.
‘No time for that,’ she gasped, using a tree to clamber to her feet.
‘No time to breathe?’ the Doctor asked.
‘You need to learn to multi-task.’
He pushed himself up, pointing across the fast-running water. The steep bank was empty. ‘We’re fine. The Boggarts are gone. At least for now.’
‘I guess you were right,’ she admitted.
He leant on his knees, still fighting to breathe. ‘Music to my ears. Although, it won’t put them off for long,’ he admitted. ‘They’re tenacious beasties. They’ll be finding another way around the stream as we speak.’
‘Then what are we waiting for?’ she asked, brushing down the sleeves of her fleece. That was weird. They were already dry … and they were gold!
Her entire uniform; her skirt, vest, fleece and shirt had been dyed a brilliant yellow.
‘What the hell?’
The Doctor was appraising his own wardrobe: both his jacket and trousers had a similar gleaming hue. ‘Golden thread. John Dee would love that. Instant alchemy.’
She pulled up her sleeve, checking her arms. ‘But what will it do to my skin?’
‘You probably won’t need fake tan for a while.’
‘It’s not funny,’ she told him. ‘We’ve no idea what this place is doing to us, what we’re breathing in. You’ve seen the mushrooms.’
‘I told you. I’ve been here before, and I’m just fine.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion.’
‘Granted, I was in a different body back then.’
‘Do you ever make sense?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ He pulled an old-fashioned fobwatch out of his pocket, and shook it against his ear to check if it was still working.
Schofield was boiling. The water hadn’t been cold as she expected, but warm, like a hot bath. She felt like she was burning up and hoped it had nothing to do with her new colour scheme. Peeling off her vest and fleece, she watched the Doctor flip open his watch. It didn’t have a clock face, but a digital compass which whirled around like a Russian dancer.
She tied the sleeves of her fleece around her waist like a belt. ‘So where are we heading?’
‘That’s a good question.’
‘I know. That’s why I asked it. You’re the one who’s been here before. I’m relying on you.’
He snapped the watch shut. ‘Multiple poles. The compass doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going.’
‘But you do?’
He pointed at the rushing stream. ‘This world runs differently to yours, but there are a lot of similarities.’
‘You could have fooled me.’
‘The terrain is largely the same. We’re standing in the Invisible’s version of Boggle wood.’
‘Then why didn’t we arrive in the middle of a fairy building site?’
‘Because they don’t have buildings here, at least not how we understand them. We were in the same spot, but how it looked long before Huckensall village popped up, before humanity started encroaching on ultra-terrestrial territory.’ He licked his finger and held it up to the air. ‘Luckily I have an unerring sense of direction …’
‘And an ego to match,’ Schofield muttered.
‘Oh no, that’s far more developed.’ He pointed ahead, away from the stream. ‘This way.’ He started through the trees, taking Schofield by surprise.
‘This way, where?’ she asked, catching up with him.
He pulled a key on a long chain out of his pocket, and dangled it in front of him as if he was about to hypnotise someone. It was a normal Yale key, the kind Schofield had seen on countless keyrings, with one major exception. This one was glowing. It was only faint, but the metal was pulsing, like a heartbeat.
‘What is it?’ she said, as he stepped over a fallen branch.
‘The key to my TARDIS. She’s waiting, back in the Visible. And before you ask, the TARDIS is my ship and really rather clever and would take too long to explain right now.’
‘I believe you.’
‘If we can reach her location, then perhaps I can persuade the old girl to jump the grooves and pick us up.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Well, actually it sounded like complete nonsense, but it was all she had to work with.
The Doctor smiled at her, displaying what looked suspiciously like genuine warmth. ‘I like you, PC Schofield. When you’re not about to arrest me.’
‘Jane.’
He stopped tramping ahead. ‘Sorry?’
‘Jane. It’s my name.’
The Doctor smiled and held out his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Jane.’
‘Good to meet you too, John.’
He pulled his hand away. ‘John?’
‘That’s your name, isn’t it? John Smith.’
‘Ah yes,’ he said, continuing to follow his key. ‘About that.’
She sighed. ‘You’re not called John.’
‘I had to shut you up somehow.’
‘So you lied?’
‘Not exactly. It’s a name I use from time to time.’
‘But not actually yours.’
He laughed. ‘Not even close,’ and then, as if realising that she might find this a tad annoying, added a hurried apology: ‘Sorry, Jane.’
She stomped ahead to take the lead. ‘You can call me PC Schofield.’
‘You don’t know where you’re going,’ he called after her.
‘I’m sure you’ll delight in telling me.’
A howl rang out through the trees; far away, but not far enough. The Boggarts were back.
‘Which way?’ she asked, their squabble forgotten.
The Doctor pointed straight ahead. ‘Run.’
She did, not waiting for him to catch up. The Doctor ran behind, barking directions as they pelted through the forest. Left. Right. Over the log. Mind the branch. Down the slope. Up the rise.
She kept her eyes ahead, knowing that the Doctor kept glancing behind. He’d tell her if he saw the monsters. Probably. She thought she trusted him; hoped that she could, even if he wasn’t really called John.
What other choice did she have? He was her only way out of here.
‘Left at that big tree.’
‘They’re all big.’
‘The really big one!’
The Boggarts were closer now. She could hear them crashing through the underground, leathery feet pounding, teeth gnashing together.
She scrambled to the left, following the Doctor’s instructions and charging forwards.
‘That’s it. She’s just ahead. Carry on.’
Jane Schofield ran as she had never run before. She had no idea what she was running towards, what this mystical TARDIS actually was, but she couldn’t hear the Boggarts any more. Maybe they had lost them. Maybe they could get out of this alive.
She allowed herself to glance back, seeing the Doctor running full pelt, arms and legs not quite working in harmony. But the light from the key was intense now. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.
She never saw the arm reach down to wrap around her waist, never realised the danger she was in, until she was pulled up high into the air.