‘That’s awful,’ said Rory.

She nodded. ‘I thought I could earn lots of money in London. Then I could find the stranger somehow and buy Max back. Instead I got... lost. I never saw Max again. I hope he was happy.’ Tears ran down her cheeks again and this time she didn’t brush them away.

Rory gave her a few moments with her long-ago grief. Then he asked, ‘What happened then? What went on when you got to London?’ She didn’t answer. ‘Please,’ he tried again. ‘I have to know. The Doctor’s counting on me to find out.’

‘The Doctor?’ said Mrs Hooper at last. ‘I think I met a doctor. Back then. Back in the dream.’

‘No,’ said Rory. ‘This isn’t a doctor – it’s the Doctor. Not someone you see when you’re ill.’

‘I thought he was mad,’ she said, not taking any notice. ‘Him and the red-haired girl. Both of them, mad.’ She sighed. ‘They were the last people I saw before I was lost.’

Rory didn’t like the sound of that at all. A mad doctor and a mad red-headed girl. That just had to be the Doctor and Amy. That meant that the young Amber Reynolds was still out there somewhere. She hadn’t been sent back in time yet.

Whatever the Doctor was up to, it seemed as though his plan was doomed to fail.

Miss Leake came out into the garden. She had a folded magazine under one arm and was carrying a cup. ‘I wondered where you were!’ she said. ‘All of you out here, now mind you don’t catch the sun.’ She handed the cup to Rory. ‘I just knew you’d like a nice cup of tea.’

Rory thanked her, even though he didn’t want a cup of tea

‘See, they’re fine this morning after a good night’s sleep,’ Miss Leake carried on. She didn’t seem to mind that the people she was talking about were in front of her. Waving the magazine at the two women, she said, ‘Look, that nice Sammy Star’s going to be on TV soon!’ She turned back to Rory. ‘They’ll enjoy that. It’ll make up for all the silly upset at the show yesterday.’

Rory didn’t agree, but he nodded. He wanted her to leave so he could find out more from Mrs Hooper. Then, as she tucked the magazine back under her arm, he noticed a photo on the open page. It showed Sammy Star in front of a gravestone, holding an apple. ‘Could I just have a look at that, please?’ he asked, taking it from her before she could answer.

He read the first few lines. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘Now we’re really in trouble.’

Chapter Seven

THE DOCTOR HAD rooted through the TARDIS wardrobe for costumes. He was now wearing a frilly white shirt with ruffles, and a long floppy black bow-tie. He’d swapped his tweed jacket for a velvet one. Over the top he wore a black cape with red satin lining and arm-hole slits. ‘Do I look like a magician?’ he asked Amy as he posed in front of a mirror.

‘Very magic,’ she said. ‘The trousers are a bit long, though.’

‘Well, I was quite a lot taller when I last wore this outfit,’ he said. ‘Now come on, try yours on.’

Amy held up the sparkly silver one-piece catsuit. ‘I think it’s a bit small for me,’ she said.

‘Nonsense! You’ll just have to show your ankles,’ the Doctor told her. ‘It’s perfect for Amy Pond, the magician’s helper.’

Amy went behind a screen and began to change. ‘Yeah, why do I have to be the helper?’ she said. ‘Why can’t I do the magic?’

‘All right,’ said the Doctor, rather to her surprise. ‘You do the magic then.’ He paused. ‘How many magic tricks do you know?’

Amy popped her head round the screen. ‘None,’ she said, ‘as you’re well aware. How many tricks do you know?’

The Doctor produced a large bunch of silk flowers from up one sleeve and handed it to her. ‘Loads!’

‘OK,’ she said in a mock-grumpy voice. ‘You win. You do the magic.’ She emerged from behind the screen and did a twirl.

The Doctor picked up a dark wig and plonked it on her head. ‘There. Perfect.’

‘Should we come up with a plan?’ Amy asked the Doctor. ‘Are we just going to go on stage and make it up as we go along?’

‘Making things up as we go along is what I do best,’ said the Doctor. ‘Oh, all right, we’ll plan ahead. Just this once.’ He searched through a pile of stuff and came up with a large carpet bag. ‘OK, let’s collect up all the things we need. Chains, sack, handcuffs, large wooden box...’

It took about half an hour, but in the end they found all the things the Doctor wanted. ‘They’ll never fit in that bag,’ Amy said, looking at the man-size wooden cabinet. The Doctor told her that the bag was bigger on the inside than the outside, and pushed the things in one by one. Once all the items were inside, even the cabinet, he shut the clasp of the carpet bag with a loud snap.

‘I’m glad I got this back from Mary Poppins,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Hang on,’ said Amy, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got another bag like that, have you? Handbag-sized. You know what it’s like, lipstick, hankie, sunglasses, keys and then there’s no room for the kitchen sink.’

The Doctor delved into the heap of things again, then handed her a tiny shoulder bag.

‘Ooh, silver to match,’ she said. She put her sunglasses and sun lotion into the bag. Then the Doctor’s bunch of silk flowers, and a silk scarf. Then she tried to fit in a hat stand but couldn’t manage it. ‘Oh well, you can’t have it all,’ she said with a shrug.

‘Ready now?’ asked the Doctor, pretending to look at a watch.

Amy grinned. ‘Yes, I’m ready!’

‘Well, then, come along, Pond – let’s make magic!’

The queue was already halfway round Trafalgar Square when the Doctor and Amy arrived. People of all shapes, sizes and ages were waiting to get in. Some were dressed in normal clothes. Some wore top hats or spangly outfits. One wore a tiger costume.

They joined the end of the line. In front of them, a man in glasses was working on card tricks. Next to him, a girl was trying to keep hold of a squirming rabbit.

‘What’s your act, then, mate?’ asked a man with a top hat on his head.

‘I escape,’ said the Doctor.

The man sniffed. ‘Been at it long?’

‘Hmm.’ The Doctor thought about it for a second. ‘About a thousand years. Give or take a century or so. Escape, capture, escape, capture, pretty much the story of my lives.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean, mate,’ the top-hatted man agreed.

By the time the theatre opened its doors, the end of the queue was out of sight. ‘I hope we’re not out here too long,’ Amy said, popping on her sunglasses. ‘I’m cooking like a Christmas turkey in tinfoil in this silver get-up. The wig’s making my head sweat, too.’

‘Thanks for sharing that,’ said the Doctor. Amy wrinkled her nose at him.

People started to go into the theatre through one door. After about ten minutes, the first people left again by another door. They all looked upset. The man in the tiger suit was crying.

‘Get a life!’ Amy whispered to the Doctor. ‘Crying because you don’t get on a TV show, that’s pretty sad.’

‘Be kind,’ said the Doctor. ‘Some people don’t know there’s a whole universe out there.’

‘Well, they should try finding out,’ said Amy.

It was some time before the Doctor and Amy got to the doors of the theatre. A guard was standing outside, stopping people getting in before they were wanted. To Amy’s relief, it wasn’t the guard they’d met the night before. She wasn’t sure their disguises were really good enough to fool anyone. People tended not to forget the Doctor.

After a few more minutes, the guard waved them into the foyer.

A man with a clipboard came up to them. He handed them a piece of card with a number on it. ‘You will be shown into the theatre. When your number is called you will go on the stage. The judges and Sammy Star will be sitting in the front row. You may begin when they tell you to. Your act should take no more than three minutes. The judges may stop you and ask you to leave at any point. Got that?’