Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Donna and Ten - The Inbetweens and backstories ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Chiswick, London .

 

Christmas Day, 2007.

 

 

'Thanks then, Donna. Good luck. And just . . . be magnificent,' the Doctor said from the doorway of the TARDIS.

 

'I think I will . . . yeah,' she replied. The Doctor went back into the TARDIS and closed the door. 'Doctor?' She called.

 

'Oh, what is it now?' he asked, feigning annoyance, but smiling at her.

 

'That friend of yours . . . what was her name?' She realised that his missing friend was probably the one who used to tell him when enough was enough.

 

'Her name was Rose.' He went back inside, and the noise of the time rotor started. Donna watched with a smile as the TARDIS started to fade, and then it shot up into the air and disappeared.

 

'Hah! Flash git,' she said with a laugh. She turned around and went back into the house, where her parents, Geoff and Sylvia were waiting.

 

'How are you bearing up Sweetheart?' her father asked as she walked into the living room. 'Not quite the day you'd planned, was it?' He enveloped her in a hug.

 

'Nah,' she said as she accepted his comforting embrace.

 

'About that Donna, the disappearing trick in the church, those robot Santa's, the exploding Christmas tree decorations, was it all a practical joke that went wrong?' Geoff asked her.

 

'I bet it was that Nerys. It wouldn't have happened at all if you'd have taken that job at Chowdry Photocopiers like I said,' her mother, Sylvia said.

 

'Mum, leave it!' Donna said sharply.

 

'Sylvia! Our daughter has just had what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life ruined,' Geoff said. 'As well as seeing her fiancé killed, and being left with her life in ruins . . . I don't think she needs an "I told you so".'

 

Sylvia didn't reply, she couldn't, she'd been told off, and he was right, she loved her only daughter, but sometimes it seemed as though she brought these things on herself.

 

'Look, let's just try and put it behind us, yeah? I don't know about you, but I'm starvin', and nobody does a Christmas dinner like yer mum,' Donna said with a smile.

 

Sylvia reluctantly smiled at her daughter's resilience, and took that as a Christmas armistice on their differing points of view. 'Okay, Geoff, can set the table, and Donna can help me serve.'

 

Geoff smiled fondly at his wife, she might have a quick temper and a sharp tongue, but she meant well, and he loved her dearly. And where he was willing to let his daughter find her own way in the world, Sylvia was more critical of her, wanting her to do something proper and conventional.

 

They eventually sat down to enjoy their turkey dinner, whilst watching the Eastenders Christmas special, which had the usual mix of family joviality and jeopardy. Christmas pudding was accompanied by the animated, plasticine Wallace and Grommit, which lightened everyone's mood.

 

'So what happened to that strange man then?' Sylvia asked. 'That  Doctor?'

 

Donna had a far away look in her eyes. 'He left,' she told her.

 

'I didn't get to meet him or thank him for bringing you back,' Geoff said.

 

'Thank him?' Sylvia said. 'It was probably all his fault; I mean, how could he know what was going on if he didn't have something to do with it. Were those his special effects that went wrong?'

 

Donna rolled her eyes. 'Oh Mum, stop it! It's because he knew what was going on that he was able to save us.'

 

'Well all I'm saying is that our life was quite ordinary until he turned up and then all sorts of weird things started to happen. You said yourself that he had something to do with that big thing in the sky last Christmas, and those robots battling it out over the Isle of Dogs.'

 

'Ah, come on though, it doesn't mean HE was responsible for causing the trouble now, does it?' Geoff said.

 

Donna smiled warmly at her father; it was just like him to see the other point of view. Where she and her mother would jump to conclusions and cast accusations, her father would listen to the arguments, weigh up the evidence, and come to an informed decision.

 

She rolled her eyes and gave a goofy smile. 'This is bonkers! Listen to us, talkin' about lights in the sky and battling robots like it's an everyday occurrence.'

 

'It might well be soon,' Geoff said seriously. 'Your granddad's been looking for ufo's for years now, with that telescope of his up on the allotment.'

 

'So what are you going to do now then?' Sylvia asked her daughter, trying to bring the conversation back to "real life", and attempting to sympathise with her plight.

 

Donna smiled, realising that her mum was trying to be kind. 'Well, I've still got the tickets for two weeks in Egypt, it was supposed to be my honeymoon, might as well make it a holiday.'

 

'What, you're still going?' Sylvia asked incredulously.

 

'Too right I am,' Donna said. 'It'll give me time to come to terms with what's happened, and to think about what I'm going to do next . . . talking of which Dad, I was wondering if I could move back into my old room for a bit. With old man Clements being killed, the company has shut down, and I'm out of a job.'

'Of course you can Sweetheart,' Geoff said, as Sylvia rolled her eyes and huffed.

 

 

West Ham United Boleyn Ground Stadium, East London .

 

Wednesday 30th January, 2008 .

 

 

Geoff Noble reached for his flask of hot tea to warm him up during the halftime break. His team, West Ham had held Liverpool to a goalless draw into the break, and were looking confident to make some headway in the second half. It had been nine years since they had beaten the Merseyside team, and both sides were not going to give in easily.

 

A tall man in a long brown coat, with a claret and blue scarf wrapped around his neck, edged past him, presumably heading back from the toilets.

 

'Excuse me, is your name Noble?' the man asked Geoff. 'Are you Donna's dad?'

 

Geoff looked up from his steaming tea, to see a man with sticky up hair smiling at him. 'Yes, that's right, Geoff Noble, Donna's dad.'

 

'Oh brilliant! Thought I recognised you . . . I'm a friend of hers, I was at the wedding . . . Well, the almost wedding . . . Well . . .' He let the sentence trail off.

 

Geoff vaguely remembered seeing the man before, but that day was a bit chaotic and disastrous, and he didn't have time to remember everyone who was there. The tall, thin man in the brown coat and with the sticky up hair, saw Geoff looking at him expectantly.

 

'Oh, sorry, John . . . John Smith.' He held out his hand and Geoff shook it, just as he wobbled and nearly fainted.

 

'Are you alright?' Geoff asked him with concern.

 

'Mmm, low blood sugar,' he replied as he slumped into the empty chair next to him. 'I've had nothing to eat today . . . upset stomach earlier on. I'm fine now, and was going to have a burger from one of the vendors outside, but found I was a pound short.'

 

'Oh here you are,' Geoff said, leaning over so that he could reach into his trouser pocket. He pulled out a handful of loose change and sorted out a pound coin. 'There you are, have it. Go and get you something to eat, have it on me.'

 

John Smith gave him such a smile, that you could only call it proud. 'You'd do that for a stranger?'

 

'Well, you're not really a stranger if you know Donna, are you?'

 

'Amazing!' he said with a grin and holding out his hand again. 'Thank you Geoff Noble, you're a good man.' After shaking hands again, he stood and made his way to the end of the aisle, before turning and calling back to him. 'And don't forget to tell that daughter of yours that you love her now and again, you never know when it will be too late.'

 

Geoff gave him a puzzled look, before nodding and waving. The man in the brown pin striped suit and long brown coat, with a claret and blue scarf, and sticky up hair, made his way to 2010 to buy a lottery ticket.

 

It was around ten o'clock at night when Geoff got home from the match, and both Sylvia and Donna could tell he was happy.

 

'Veni, vidi, vici,' he said, beaming a smile. 'One nil, one nil! A penalty in extra time and you'll never guess who scored.'

 

West Ham was Donna's team as well, naturally, as Geoff had taken her to the matches when she was little. 'Go on Dad, who was it?'

 

'It was a Noble!'

 

'Wha?! Mark Noble?' she asked, mouth open wide. 'Brilliant!'

 

'Oh, I met a friend of yours there, what was his name? John . . . that was it.'

 

Donna frowned, trying to think of which friend it could be. 'What'd he look like?'

 

'Tall thin chap with dark hair.' That description would fit half the male population.

 

'Oh, right . . . could be anybody,' she said, trying to think of who it could be. 'Anyway, I'm off to bed, got to be down the Job Centre early in the mornin'.' She had been back from Egypt for two weeks, and in that time she had been looking for a permanent job.

 

She'd had that one day with the Doctor, and she was going to change. She was going to do so much. Then she woke up the next morning, and it was the same old life; as though he'd never been there. And she tried. She went to Egypt, to go barefoot and everything. But it was all bus trips and guidebooks and don't drink the water, and two weeks later she was back home.

 

'Okay Sweetheart,' Geoff said, and then thought about what John had said. 'I love you Sweetheart, and I'm very proud of you.'

 

Donna looked a bit puzzled. 'I love you too Dad.' She kissed him on the cheek as she went past and headed for bed.

 

'What was all that about?' Sylvia asked, looking as puzzled as her daughter.

 

'Oh, it was just something her friend said . . . and you know I love you, don't you?'

 

Sylvia walked over to him and stroked his cheek. 'Of course I do.' She kissed him tenderly on the lips. 'Come on you, take me to bed.'

 

Geoff grinned and waggled his eyebrows, taking her hand and leading her out of the living room. That night, he had a bout of heartburn that wouldn't go away, and got steadily worse. In the early hours of the morning, Sylvia was so worried, that she dialled 999 and called for an ambulance.

 

The next morning in the Cardiac Ward of the hospital, Geoff Noble was told that his chronic heart failure had become worse. He would have to take early retirement and take things easy from now on.

 

 

Brookside Road .

 

Friday 15th May 2008 .

 

 

Sylvia and Donna were running on autopilot after the funeral at the Crematorium, saying hello to friends and relatives, thanking them for coming, as they helped themselves to sandwiches and drinks in the dining room.

 

Wilf was in his black suit, with his medals proudly displayed on his chest. 'It was a good send off Gal,' he said to his daughter. 'He'd have been pleased with that.'

 

'Yeah, thanks Dad,' Sylvia said quietly. 'I don't know what I'm going to do without him.'

 

Tears started to well in her eyes, and Donna reached for her hand, squeezing it in support. They rarely saw eye to eye or agreed on anything, they were too alike, with their fiery tempers and sharp tongues, but they were united in their grief, and knew that the house wouldn't be the same without Geoff.

 

People were wandering between the dining room and the living room, standing in little groups with their paper plates of food, saying what a lovely man Geoff Noble had been. They remembered him with amusing anecdotes, and with stories that told of his strength of character which brought laughter and tears.

 

The afternoon passed into evening, and when everyone had paid their respects and offered their sympathy, they started to leave the new house that they now called home. After her disastrous wedding and slightly less disastrous trip to Egypt, her parents had moved from their terraced house where Donna had grown up into this new semi.

 

It had been an upheaval, compounded as it was by Donna not having a job and Wilf originally being cross because he thought he'd have to leave his astronomer buddies behind. As it turned out, of course, the allotments were easier to get to from the new house, so he was happy after all.

 

But Donna's dad hadn't been well for a long time, and in many ways the move had been his idea, his desire to find somewhere new to be, to give him a bit of challenge. He'd got bored in the old house. He'd built all the cupboards, shelved all the walls, painted all the ceilings he was ever able to do, and he needed something new to keep him active since his illness had made him take early retirement.

 

Doing up the new place to Mum's quite stringent specifications would be exactly the right challenge. They had been there three months before Dad passed. Donna and Wilf had taken on the mantle of doing all those odd jobs Dad had been going to do, but they were never quite right, they were never "how your dad would have done it".

 

It wasn't altogether surprising - after all, Wilf was twenty-odd years older, and Donna had never lifted a paintbrush or hammer in her life before. And now, sitting in silence around the kitchen table, each of them looking silently into their cups of tea, none of it seemed to matter anymore.