Significant Others

It is amazing who you run into, when you stop off for a drink, after a busy day.

This short story was written for the now out-of-print charity anthology, A Target For Tommy, in 2016. Published in honour of Tommy Donbavand, the creator of the Scream Street, prolific contributor to The Beano, author of the Doctor Who novel, The Shroud of Sorrow, and many, many other book series; Tommy was very ill at the time and sadly passed away in 2019.
Please consider making a donation to a cancer charity of your choice, to honour Tommy’s memory and the spirit in which this story came to be.

“It’s me,” she said

"Excuse me, my dear," said the old gentleman, "Do you mind if I sit here for a moment? It has been a very tiring day." The tavern was buzzing with activity and seating was scarce.  

The young woman looked up from her phone. "No, of course not," she replied. "Are you OK?" 

The old man leant wearily on his walking stick and eased himself onto the stool on the opposite side of the table. He plucked a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his black frockcoat and mopped his brow. "Just a little over-exertion, my dear," he replied, "I shall perfectly fine after taking the weight off my feet for a short while. Good heavens, what a day! Hmmm?" 

"Tell me about it!" said the woman. "Where were you when it was all kicking off?" 

"Hmmm?" said the man, "'Kicking off?' Oh, I see what you mean! Yes! Well, I was over in the parliament building itself. Mediating, you might say. Yes, I was mediating between the Thymblym president and the ambassadors of Volstrox. Do you know, I think that I very much prevented the outbreak of an interplanetary war!" 

The woman noticed that the old gentleman's jacket was rather dusty. He had a smudge of soot on his nose. "You weren't inside when the parliament building when it exploded, were you!?" she gasped. 

The old man chuckled, wiping his face with his handkerchief. "Oh, it looked much worse than it was, my dear," he said. "It only damaged the east wing. No one was seriously hurt; I can assure you." 

"Can I get you a drink?" asked the woman. "My friend has just gone to the bar." 

"No, thank you, my dear," said the man. "I am meeting some friends of my own here and then, I am afraid, we must be on our way." He looked at the young woman, only really noticing her properly for the first time. She was blonde and dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt. "I gather you, like myself, are not a resident of the planet Thymblym either, hmmm?" 

"Nah, I'm just passing through," said the woman. "Helping out on the way. Me and my friend. We were with the local militia earlier; preventing those giant robot insects from reaching the fusion reactor." 

"Gracious!" said the old man, "My dear young woman! You are lucky to be alive! So, it was you who stopped the insects? The Volstrox ambassadors couldn't understand why their robots had suddenly stopped working when they did. That would explain it. How did you stop them?" 

"Well, my friend can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be," said the woman. "He had them eating out of the palm of his hand in the end. To be honest, that communications satellite exploding when it did couldn't have hurt. The robots were cut off from their communications." 

"Quite so," said the man. "Now, that was my friend who destroyed the satellite. He's a space pilot, you see. It was a contingency plan, in case the negotiations failed. It seems it was just as well, hmm?" 

"And they've agreed to help all the refugees?" asked the woman. 

"Oh, yes," said the old man. "I have another friend who was helping out at the refugee camp. She's passing on the good news to everyone now. The dawn of a new era of peace and prosperity between all the peoples of Volstrox and Thymblym. A happy day, wouldn't you say?" 

"I'll drink to that," said the woman. "If he ever gets back with the drinks, that is." 

"There seems to be quite a queue at the bar," said the old man. 

"That never usually stops him," said the woman. "He's probably got distracted. It doesn't take much for him to do that. Are you sure you wouldn't like a drink? I'll phone my friend. Find out what's keeping him." 

The man considered. "Perhaps a glass of water?" he said. 

The young woman put her phone to her ear and tutted as the call went straight through to voicemail. "It's me," she said. "Where are you? If you're still at the bar, can you bring a glass of water back with you too? I'm just chatting with this bloke. Hurry up, will you?" She cut the call. 

"'Bloke'?" said the old man, arching his eyebrows. "My dear young woman, unless I am very much mistaken; it sounds to me that you may very well be from the planet Earth?" 

"I am," she said. "Is that where you're from?" 

"Well, in a roundabout sort of a way," said the man, with a dismissive wave. "Tell me, how do you come to be here, on the planet Thymblym in the fourth universe? The Earth people have not yet reached this area of space, have they?" 

The young woman gave a weary smile. "It's a long story," she sighed. "I am from Earth. From London. The man I'm travelling with, he's from somewhere else. It's quite hard to explain. My name's Rose. Rose Tyler." She held out her hand and the old man shook it gently. 

"Enchanted, Miss Tyler," said the man. "So, this person with whom you are travelling is not human, you say? Is he Thymblymian? Or perhaps a Volstroxi?" 

"No," said Rose, "like I said, it's more complicated than that." She paused for a moment and looked at the old man. He glanced back at her with inquisitive eyes. There was something disconcerting in the stranger's gaze; unnerving in its familiarity. 

"I was abandoned here," said Rose, a touch of anger creeping into her tone. "I come from Earth, but it's an Earth in a different universe." 

"Abandoned, you say?" said the old man, scandalised. "Oh, my dear child. Who would do such a dreadful thing?" 

"Someone I trusted completely," said Rose. "He left me holding the baby. Sloped off without a word. Trapped me here just because he couldn't cope with the responsibility." She paused and furrowed her brow. "Why am I telling you all this?" 

"I am so sorry, my dear," said the man. "I did not mean to pry. I am afraid that I am insatiably curious by nature. Please, forgive me." 

"No, no, it's fine," said Rose. "You're not prying. You're just making conversation. I don't know why I've started moaning on at you to be honest. We've just stopped an interplanetary war, haven't we? We should be celebrating!" 

"Indeed, we should, Miss Tyler," the old man agreed. 

"Call me 'Rose'," said Rose. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name..." 

"It's you!" boomed a new voice, startling Rose and the old gentleman. 

"You took your time," said Rose to the newcomer. 

"Yeah, I had to get a round in for the whole militia," he replied, plonking down two pewter goblets, filled with a cloudy, white liqueur in front of Rose, and a glass of water in front of the old man. 

"I can't believe it's you," said the newcomer to the old gentleman. "How long has it been? A couple of eons at least!" 

"I beg your pardon?" said the old man. "I think you are very much mistaken, sir." 

The newcomer was a tall, black man dressed entirely in white. His white hair was woven into neat cornrows and his broad smile was framed with a white goatee. He grabbed a vacant stool and joined them both at the table. "This is my friend I was telling you about," said Rose, " This is Theo Possible. Theo, this is..." 

"We've already met, Rose," said Theo. "We studied together, back in the day." 

"'Studied'?" said the old man. 

"Martial arts?" said Theo, giving the table a gentle karate chop. "On Venus. You remember?" 

"Venus?" said the old man, his memory beginning to clear. 

"I had a big afro?" said Theo, miming the size of his previous hairstyle. Rose laughed, took a sip of her drink and winced at the potency. 

"Theo Possible," stated the old gentleman, his face hardening at the recollection. "The Ahequ Seminary on Venus! It's you!" 

"The very same! So, how have you been?" said Theo. Then, noticing the walking stick in the old man's hand, he exclaimed; "You've still got one of the old Venusian battle staves! That's great!" 

The old gentleman levelled his gaze at Possible and lifted his stick. "I sometimes need to walk with a stick," he explained. "I was never quite the same, after the injuries I sustained on Venus."  Possible sipped his drink, "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "It is a contact sport, though, I suppose." 

"Theo," said Rose, experimentally smacking her lips, "what is this I'm drinking?" Possible took another swig of his own drink and swilled it around his mouth before swallowing. "I can't remember what it's called," he said. "All the locals are drinking it. It's quite frisky isn't it?" 

The old gentleman stared contemptuously at Possible. Theo shifted in his seat. Rose sensed the tension and attempted to calm the atmosphere. "I was just explaining about us with the militia, Theo," she said, "The robot insects and everything." 

"Yes, what a nightmare," said Possible. "Busy day. What brings you to Thymblym?" 

"I was brokering a peace treaty," said the old man. 

"Oh, that was you, was it?" said Possible. "Great work. I was going to get to it straight after we saved the fusion reactor. Thanks for the back-up. What are you up to these days? Still freelancing?" 

"I am investigating the universe," the old man replied. 

"Nice," said Theo. "Do you see any of the old class? Noventa? And whassername, that nice technosapien lady..." 

"I cannot recall," said the man. "My memory is not what it was. But then, of course, I didn't graduate, did I? After my injury, hmmm? Although, I did go back to Venus for a funeral recently. I didn't meet anyone from the old school. But never mind all that, Possible. What about you two, hmm? Miss Tyler, how did you and... this person... meet?" 

"Oh, it's not like that," said Rose, shaking her head vigorously. 

"No, no, no," said Theo, "The age difference is geochronological for a start. No, no, Rose is my employee. My personal assistant. It's all above board. We've signed contracts and everything." 

"Yep," said Rose. "Remember, I was telling you about how I was abandoned here? Well, Theo helped me out. I've signed a temporary contract to work as his PA. I'm only working for him while we travel back to my own universe." 

"You'd never believe what the last bloke she travelled with did to her," said Theo. "He only left her here, in the Fourth Universe, with some hideous, reject biological experiment. Can you believe it? He expected Rose to look after this awful thing he had created!" 

"The scoundrel!" said the old gentleman. "What happened to this creature?" 

"Oh, he's moping about somewhere," said Rose. "Last time I saw him he was living in a cave, trying to fuel his homemade time machine with the power of self-pity alone. It's pathetic really." 

The old man narrowed his eyes. Something in Rose's last sentence had struck a nerve. She took a large swig from her goblet in order to wash down the painful memory. 

Theo sipped his drink innocently. 

Over at the bar, the militia began a drunken, celebratory sing-song. The melody slowly spread across the tavern's patrons. Rose, Theo and the old gentlemen didn't know the words, but became caught up in the reverie and joined in with the hand claps and cheers. For a moment the tension was forgotten, and they shared smiles with all the celebrating locals. 

Then, in the doorway of the tavern, a dashing young man and an elfin, teenaged girl appeared. They scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. Spying the couple, the old gentleman called out and waved. Spotting him, the pair waved back. "They're here," said the old man, climbing to his feet. "My friends, Steven and Vicki are just over there. I must bid the two of you farewell. Miss Tyler, it has been a pleasure. Do not let this Possible person give you any trouble, hmm?" 

"I won't," said Rose, shaking his hand. "Once bitten, twice shy." 

"Possible," said the old man, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. "You behave yourself, understand? You're not as clever as you think you are, you know. Or funny. You're not at all canonical! But that said; you did good work today. So, for that I congratulate you. But I must now bid you adieu." With a short bow, the old gentlemen turned swiftly and shuffled off through the crowd. He joined his friends in the doorway and left the tavern without a backward glance. 

Rose felt a pang of déjà vu as he ducked through the doors and disappeared. 

"Well, that could have been a lot more embarrassing than it was," said Possible, draining his drink. "Your round, Tyler," he said, pushing his empty goblet towards Rose. Rose knocked back the last of her drink and stood up to head to the bar. "Your mate was an old charmer," she said, "What did he mean by, 'You're not canonical?'" 

"Just a slip of the tongue," said Theo. "He was always doing that. I think he meant to say 'comical'" 

"Who was he anyway?" said Rose. 

"Who indeed," said Possible.