Clara shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Same here,’ said the Doctor. ‘No Astrid.’

‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’ asked Mae. ‘That means it’s gone back down that hole thing?’

‘Or come out completely,’ said the Doctor. He fired the sonic again, this time using it to sweep around the office.

The news floor was deserted when they arrived. Mae had found Jim, the young sports reporter, sobbing on the stairs as the face of his father yelled abuse at him from the carpet. The Doctor had thrown Jim’s jacket over the head and held it in place with his screwdriver long enough for Clara to lead the boy outside. They knew the Shroud was likely to capture his mind again before long, but at least they’d given him a brief respite from his sadness.

‘Where is everyone?’ Clara asked. ‘I thought newspaper offices were supposed to be busy.’

‘It usually is,’ said Mae. ‘Even when there’s a big story, like yesterday, there’s always someone here.’

‘Unless they’ve all been scared away,’ said the Doctor, swinging the sonic round again. ‘There!’ he hissed. ‘Can you hear that?’

‘No,’ said Clara.

Mae shook her head. ‘Me neither.’

The Doctor double tapped the handle of the screwdriver and turned up the volume. The sound immediately became clear.

‘Someone’s crying,’ said Clara.

‘Correction,’ said the Doctor. ‘Someone is crying in here.’

They followed the sound between the desks towards the editor’s office. Inside, Ben Parsons was kneeling on the floor, his eyes red with tears. But Ben wasn’t alone. Kneeling beside him was a woman. She wore a pale blue dress with a veil across her face that obscured her eyes.

‘Ben!’ cried Mae, darting forward – but the Doctor grabbed her arm and held her back.

‘Don’t go near!’

‘He’s my editor,’ said Mae, pulling against the Doctor’s grip. ‘My friend.’

The Doctor held her firm. ‘But she isn’t,’ he said, gesturing to the woman beside Ben.

‘Well, who is she?’ asked Clara.

‘Any number of people,’ said the Doctor. ‘Grandma Betty, Uncle Reuben, Astrid Peth. At the moment, I’d imagine she’s whoever Ben doesn’t want to see.’

Clara gasped. ‘That’s the Shroud?’

‘One of them at least,’ said the Doctor.

‘That’s why it wasn’t in the stain on my desk,’ said Mae. ‘It’s out!’

‘The next stage of the Shroud’s attack,’ said the Doctor. ‘This must be what they become once they’re inside your memories. Stay back.’ He released his grip on Mae’s arm and crept into the office. Crouching next to the woman, he scanned her with the sonic. ‘Basic humanoid biology,’ he said, checking the reading. ‘With one exception …’ He grabbed the end of the veil and raised it.

The woman had sparkling brown eyes; bright, inquisitive – but not at all human.

‘They … They look like a dog’s eyes!’ cried Mae.

‘A collie by the look of them,’ said the Doctor. ‘Could be that Ben saw a dog in the stain where you saw your grandma.’

‘But why is she … it holding his hand?’ asked Clara.

‘It’s gone deeper,’ explained the Doctor. ‘Gone inside his mind.’ He leaned over and looked at the woman’s hand, tightly gripping Ben’s. The fingers were long and slender, tipped with nails polished a dark, sparkling blue.

‘Then get her out!’ cried Mae. ‘Pull them apart!’ She made to step into the office again, and the Doctor jumped up to stop her.

‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what damage it would do to Ben if I severed the physical link. It could release him, but it could just as easily kill him.’

‘Then what can we do?’

‘We do nothing,’ said the Doctor, slipping his screwdriver away. ‘This is down to me.’ He stepped up to Ben and realised he was muttering something under his ragged breaths. ‘This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.’

‘Hang on,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m coming to help.’ He turned to Mae. ‘Tell me about him.’

Mae thought hard, suddenly on the spot. ‘He’s, er … he’s called Benjamin Parsons, although he prefers ‘Ben’. He’s 44, no wait – 45 years old. He’s married to Jane, and he’s been editor here for almost seven years.’

‘Thank you,’ said the Doctor, kneeling on the other side of Ben to the blue-veiled woman. ‘That could be useful.’

‘Wait!’ said Clara, firmly. ‘You’d better not do what I think you’re going to do.’

‘That depends,’ said the Doctor. ‘You might be thinking that I’m about to boil an egg. In which case, you’d be completely wrong.’

‘Don’t get clever with me,’ snapped Clara, ignoring the Doctor’s instructions about staying away and striding into the office to glare up at him. ‘You’re going in there, aren’t you? Inside Ben’s mind.’

‘Just for a quick look around,’ said the Doctor. ‘It could give me the answer to stopping the Shroud from feeding on him.’

‘And if it doesn’t? If you get stuck in there?’

‘Well, at least I won’t be lonely,’ smiled the Doctor. ‘There’ll be three of us – at least!’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Mae as Clara re-joined her in the doorway. ‘He’s going inside Ben’s mind? What does that mean?’

‘It means,’ said Clara, ‘that he’s going to do everything he can to save him.’

They watched as the Doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he took hold of Ben’s free hand and quietly spoke a single word.

‘Geronimo.’

20 August 1929

‘Now, you can either be a man about it and help me find a pleasant shady spot for Tess’s final resting place,’ said Benjy’s father, ‘or you cry like a baby and run home to your momma. Which is it to be?’

Tess began to lick the tears from Benjy’s cheeks.

‘Well, boy?’

‘Could I possibly add a third option?’ said a voice. ‘Leave this man’s memories and never return.’

Mr Parsons spun round. ‘Just who in the hell are you?’

‘I’ve been called many names,’ said the newcomer as he bent to tickle Tess under the chin. ‘Theta Sigma, the Oncoming Storm and, for one rather embarrassing weekend, Mable.’ He stood and faced Mr Parsons. ‘But most people just call me Doctor.’

‘Well, Doctor. Would you care to tell me what you’re doing on my land?’

‘Now, you see, that’s where we hit a bit of a problem,’ said the Doctor. ‘This isn’t your land, you see. This isn’t any land at all, in fact.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Oh, it feels like it,’ said the Doctor. He jumped up and down a few times, his boots clumping against the dirt. ‘I’ll give you that. But actually we’re inside a memory.’ He turned to smile down at Benjy. ‘Your memory.’

‘My memory?’ asked Benjy. ‘You mean I’m dreaming?’

‘Sort of,’ said the Doctor. ‘But not the sort of dream you or I usually have. Actually, not the sort of dream I have at all. You want to stay clear of those unless you fancy being chased across Metebelis Three by giant sticks of celery. No, there’s an alien in your mind, Ben. An alien called the Shroud that wants to feed on your grief.’

Mr Parsons raised his shotgun and aimed it at the Doctor. ‘You’d better shut your mouth if you know what’s good for you.’

‘I wouldn’t fire that in here, if I were you,’ the Doctor warned. ‘Who knows what damage you could do to Ben’s memories? You might get lucky and just wipe out his 7th birthday party, but then maybe you’ll hit one of his bad experiences. And you want those intact, don’t you?’

‘I … I don’t understand what’s happening!’ said Benjy.

The Doctor rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. That’s just the effect of the Shroud. It’s distorting what really happened in your past to try and upset you.’

Mr Parsons released the safety catch on his gun. ‘That is enough,’ he snarled. ‘Whoever you are, you have until the count of ten to turn around and walk away from my son.’

‘And there we come to our second problem,’ said the Doctor, fixing Mr Parsons with a hard stare. ‘One – you’re not really his father and, two – I don’t do ultimatums.’ He pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and aimed a blast at the gun. The weapon dissolved into atoms.