Zoe shook her head, and the corner of her mouth lifted in something that was either amusement or distress. 'If you want the truth, Ms Watkins, I honestly don't remember.'
'Isobel. Please.' She looked more closely at Zoe, and saw that her first assessment had been too hasty. Zoe was not much older than she had been when Isobel had last seen her, but she had changed. There was a certain worried vagueness that had not been there in the swinging sixties.
'If I were to say that I've forgotten a lot of things, and many other things were what people from your period might call odd, what would you say? How much do I have to explain to you? How much do you know?'
Isobel laughed. 'I probably know enough. I heard all sorts of strange things from my uncle, and I believed a lot of them.'
Zoe brightened. 'Your uncle - yes, I remember about your uncle. Better than -'
'Me?'
'No. I remember you quite well. You used to write things on the wall.'
'I still do, sometimes,' Isobel confessed.
'But what I don't remember is why I know you and where your uncle came into it, and why I was here at all. And clearly I was.' She picked up a print and studied it closely, tilting it this way and that as if expecting the picture to move.
'You came with the Doctor,' Isobel said, watching Zoe's face carefully for any signs of recognition. 'And Jamie.'
Zoe nodded. 'That's what other people have told me. I don't remember either of them. Do you have pictures?'
'A couple. Not as many as I have of you.'
'Could you -' Suddenly, Zoe stiffened, then scrambled to her feet. 'Quick. Run!'
A flash of white fire, sweeping just over Zoe's shoulder and igniting a bag of coffee beans, emphasised her point.
It had been fifteen years. And her shoes had not been made with running in mind. Nevertheless, what Isobel lacked in speed compared to Zoe she made up for in local knowledge. There wasn't a street in this area she hadn't scouted for photograph locations. 'This way!' she gasped.
Seven corners, two bridges, and goodness knew how much alleyway further on, they stopped to get their breath back. 'I think we've lost them, for the moment,' Isobel said.
'I'm very sorry about this,' Zoe said.
'They're after you?'
Zoe shrugged her shoulders. 'Somebody seems very keen that I don't remember anything about the Doctor. Which makes me very keen to find out who they are, and what they don't want me to know, and why.'
'If I knew,' Isobel said, 'I'd tell you.'
From somewhere not far enough away, there came the sound of running footsteps, and the smell of burning.
'And since I don't,' she added, 'I'm going to help you find out.' She looked left and right. This road looked like a dead end, but if they could only get over the top of that wall then she was pretty sure, they could drop down to the canal.
'Really?' Zoe looked relieved.
'Really. It'll be just like old times, won't it?'
Zoe grinned ruefully. 'I'm just going to have to take your word on that.'
no subject
But she had to admit to herself that Zoe looked like she'd stepped out of one of the fifteen-year-old photographs that lay on the café table between them.
Zoe shook her head, and the corner of her mouth lifted in something that was either amusement or distress. 'If you want the truth, Ms Watkins, I honestly don't remember.'
'Isobel. Please.' She looked more closely at Zoe, and saw that her first assessment had been too hasty. Zoe was not much older than she had been when Isobel had last seen her, but she had changed. There was a certain worried vagueness that had not been there in the swinging sixties.
'If I were to say that I've forgotten a lot of things, and many other things were what people from your period might call odd, what would you say? How much do I have to explain to you? How much do you know?'
Isobel laughed. 'I probably know enough. I heard all sorts of strange things from my uncle, and I believed a lot of them.'
Zoe brightened. 'Your uncle - yes, I remember about your uncle. Better than -'
'Me?'
'No. I remember you quite well. You used to write things on the wall.'
'I still do, sometimes,' Isobel confessed.
'But what I don't remember is why I know you and where your uncle came into it, and why I was here at all. And clearly I was.' She picked up a print and studied it closely, tilting it this way and that as if expecting the picture to move.
'You came with the Doctor,' Isobel said, watching Zoe's face carefully for any signs of recognition. 'And Jamie.'
Zoe nodded. 'That's what other people have told me. I don't remember either of them. Do you have pictures?'
'A couple. Not as many as I have of you.'
'Could you -' Suddenly, Zoe stiffened, then scrambled to her feet. 'Quick. Run!'
A flash of white fire, sweeping just over Zoe's shoulder and igniting a bag of coffee beans, emphasised her point.
It had been fifteen years. And her shoes had not been made with running in mind. Nevertheless, what Isobel lacked in speed compared to Zoe she made up for in local knowledge. There wasn't a street in this area she hadn't scouted for photograph locations. 'This way!' she gasped.
Seven corners, two bridges, and goodness knew how much alleyway further on, they stopped to get their breath back. 'I think we've lost them, for the moment,' Isobel said.
'I'm very sorry about this,' Zoe said.
'They're after you?'
Zoe shrugged her shoulders. 'Somebody seems very keen that I don't remember anything about the Doctor. Which makes me very keen to find out who they are, and what they don't want me to know, and why.'
'If I knew,' Isobel said, 'I'd tell you.'
From somewhere not far enough away, there came the sound of running footsteps, and the smell of burning.
'And since I don't,' she added, 'I'm going to help you find out.' She looked left and right. This road looked like a dead end, but if they could only get over the top of that wall then she was pretty sure, they could drop down to the canal.
'Really?' Zoe looked relieved.
'Really. It'll be just like old times, won't it?'
Zoe grinned ruefully. 'I'm just going to have to take your word on that.'