Wilf gave his daughter a hug. ‘We’ll get through all this, love.’

‘We have to, don’t we? For Donna, I mean.’

‘And for the Doctor.’

‘Who looks out for us now, Dad?’ Sylvia suddenly said.

‘I mean, I never liked the man, but even I know when I’m wrong. He saved the world, he made Donna happy. He kept us alive more than once. But if she’s not with him, his link to this planet, what makes him come back here, to care about us?’

‘Because he’s good like that,’ Wilf said. ‘Because he’s the Doctor and when we need him, he’ll be there. It’s what he does.’

‘But what if he isn’t? I mean, I felt safe before. I didn’t know about Sontarans and Mandragora and Daleks. Not

knowing kept us all safe. But now we all know the universe is so much bigger than us. Than you, or me. Or even Donna.’

Wilf looked up at the stars again, just in case that marvellous old TARDIS flew past.

Nothing.

‘Well, there’ll always be someone.’

He opened the letter.

Sylvia stood up. ‘I’ll go get you another thermos, OK.

Back soon.’ And Sylvia reached down to kiss his cheek, but instead gave him a massive, and frankly too tight, hug.

‘I love you, Dad,’ she said quietly.

Then she was gone.

Donna wasn’t the only one the Doctor had changed, Wilf thought a little sadly and, at the same time, a little happily. Sylvia Noble was a more stable person, all told, these days. So what was in this letter that had made her so… touchy-feely tonight, then?

He reached into his bag and got out a little halogen torch he used to read his astrology books by when he was out at night.

He recognised the writing, of course.

Donna’s.

His lovely, clever, brave, beautiful Donna’s.

Dear Mum

You asked me what I do. What the Doctor and I do.

And I lied. I’m sorry. I told you he was a fixer, that we nipped around the country and fixed things. That I was his PA. Not true. Well, of course it isn’t and I’m not sure you believed me anyway, you’re my old mum, you’re sharper

than that. Remember what Nanna Mott always said? You can’t hide secrets, cos there’s no such thing. Someone always knows – otherwise who told you the secret in the first place? So true.

Well, a couple of years ago, I was drifting. Job to job, place to place – thank God I took that job at H.C.

Clements. Thank God I let you nag me into it (even if it wasn’t actually the job you wanted me to do) – not that I told you that then of course, oh no. That would’ve let you off the hook too easily.

But I am glad you did, Mum. Cos that’s how I met the most fantastic man (and no, not poor Lance. One day, promise, I’ll tell you the true story of him).

I met the Doctor. He’s an alien, Mum. But I think you guessed that. I’m not sure why you don’t like him much, but I often wonder if it’s cos he took me away, and I think there’s part of you that can’t accept that he’s the one who really changed me. Made me happy. Made me a better person.

I’m sorry, that came out wrong, I’m not blaming you.

You gave me the best life. Really you did. But he shows me there’s more.

You asked how long I plan on staying with him. For Ever. Which, in his line of work, could mean anything. But I’m not coming home any time soon. I promise I’ll visit more and write more cards. I’ll try and phone more often, too. You wouldn’t believe what he’s done to my mobile –makes the rest of them look like tin cans and a bit of string.

No, we’re not a ‘couple’ – there’s nothing romantic in

him. He’s my friend. He’s my best friend. I hope I’m explaining this to you properly. I couldn’t say it to your face, I had to write it down.

I was going to do it as a speech but then thought as you like letters, I’d actually write one. First time I’ve written a letter that didn’t end ‘yours faithfully’ since Auntie Maureen’s Christmas blouse. What was I, 14? And you know how that turned out – don’t think I’ve written this much since then!

He looks after me, Mum. You have to trust him. I do.

And I hope that if I trust him, you will too. Granddad does. He knows – and please don’t yell at him, it was me who made him promise not to tell you what we do.

Because you’d worry.

Oh Mum – you should see what I see. We’ve been to places, to worlds, to futures and pasts you could only dream about. I think half of them I dreamed up cos they can’t be real. But they are. And everywhere we go, we make a difference. We put things right, we make people happier. That’s what the Doctor is all about. He finds a way for the universe to make sense. And I love him for it.

Because he’s selfless, and I think that’s rubbed off on me a bit but clearly not enough because I should’ve known how much you were hurting. I should’ve known that just coming home for Dad’s anniversary wasn’t enough.

You need me, but he needs me even more.

And that is awful because I love you, Mum, and not being able to be there for you is wrong, but I need you to understand the reason I’m not there more often.

I am going to keep travelling with the Doctor to other

planets, other worlds, and meet aliens and stuff, good ones and a few bad ones, because I’m finally living my life. All these years, I waited for someone like him and I never realised it. But now I know I’m doing the right thing. I feel alive.

And he’ll look after me as much as I look after him.

Trust me when I say I’m safe and I’ll always be safe. And if anything does happen to me (and it better not cos I’ll come back and haunt his skinny little life for ever) I know he won’t leave you wondering. He’ll tell you no matter how hard that would be for him. Because he understands being alone and how wrong that is and I don’t think my little spaceman would wish that on anyone.

I love you, Mum, and by the time you get this (assuming Lukas does what he’s asked) I’ll be long gone again. But that’s the joy of being with the Doctor. I could be back before you know it. Six weeks might have gone for me, six minutes for you.

Take care of Granddad. And that lovely Netty – she’s good for him, and I think you know that now. She’s not trying to be a replacement for Nanna Eileen, she’s an alternative. And it gives him something else to do other than sit in damp allotments all night.

I love you so much and I’ll see you soon.

D

xxx

After reading it twice more, Wilf kissed the signature and carefully put the letter back in the envelope.

He thought about the Doctor, what Donna had said about loneliness. And remembered that sad – so, so sad –

look on his face in the rain that night.

He had brought her home. He had faced them, just as Donna had known he would.

Sylvia had a point, too, though. Without Donna to bring him back here, what guarantee was there that he would save Earth next time?

It was too easy to just say ‘Oh well, someone’ll do it’.

Maybe someone else had to stand up, and be ready to be counted.

So Wilf stood up and stared into the stars, feeling the rain beat against his face.

He saluted the night sky.

‘Dunno if you’re out there, Doctor, watching over us.

But I reckon you are. Because I reckon that’s what you do for everyone, on every world, everywhere. But I think we also need to learn to stand on our own two feet, too. Not take you for granted.’

He wiped rain from his eyes – at least, he decided to say it was rain. If anyone asked.

And Wilfred Mott glanced back down from the allotment across West London below, lit up at night.