‘Oh … Sorry.’ Chantelle could have kicked herself for asking such a stupid question. To her relief, Ryan was smart enough to sense her unease.

‘It’s OK. It can be dangerous, hanging with the Doctor. Reckon you’ve seen some of that yourself …’

‘Yeah.’ Chantelle nodded. ‘Enough to scare me witless when I was a kid.’

‘But you know she always tries to make it right, yeah?’

‘So Dorothy used to tell me.’

Ryan frowned. ‘You don’t believe her?

‘I think the Doctor screwed her up. She’s not said as much, but I can tell. It broke her somehow. Life with him …’

‘What about you?’

‘Me?’ Chantelle looked at him in surprise. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Really?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘I dunno.’ Ryan shrugged. ‘You’ve got this crazy jet-setting life, but you seem sad somehow. Like none of it really matters to you.’

‘Of course it matters.’ Chantelle felt herself bristle. ‘I’m rich, I’m famous.’

Ryan just looked at her.

‘Oh, OK …’ Chantelle sighed. ‘You’re right. I’m sick of it. Sick of what it almost turned me into, sick of the never-ending parade of weirdoes that come crawling after me …’

‘I hope you don’t include me in that?’

‘You’re better than most.’ Chantelle grinned. ‘But you still hang around with the Doctor, so that makes you a bit weird.’

‘Fair enough,’ Ryan said. ‘Talking of weird – oh, my days! I still can’t believe that the Doctor used to be a he. What was he like?’

Chantelle shrugged. ‘Not much to look at, really. Little bloke in a straw hat wearing a stupid jumper.’

‘Well, the clothes sense hasn’t changed much!’ Ryan gave a guffaw. ‘Perhaps you could give her some fashion tips …’

Ryan’s amusement was infectious, and Chantelle found herself chuckling too. The stress of the day had taken its toll, and soon the two of them were helpless with laughter.

‘I think we need that drink,’ she said wiping tears from her eyes, ‘and something a bit stronger than tea.’

‘Whatever you say,’ said Ryan, his smile brilliant. ‘I’m going to need it if I’ve got to splash some of this stuff on me too.’ He pulled the bottle of mucus from his pocket.

‘Oh, God. Do we have to? It’ll stink the place up!’

‘Well, you must have some air freshener or something?’

‘I’ve got better than that. My mum bought me some scented candles!’

Chantelle clambered from her seat and pulled half a dozen candles down from a shelf, lighting each one in turn. Soon the flat was full of the scent of Madagascan Vanilla.

‘Right, that should help disguise the smell.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ said Ryan, his nose wrinkling as he removed the top from the bottle. ‘This stuff’s pretty strong.’

‘Here. Let me help you.’ She took the bottle and dipped in her finger. ‘Lovely. Just pretend it’s massage oil.’