‘It’s nothing to do with me,’ he said darkly. ‘This isn’t my fight I just want to say hello to my granddaughter, check your records for Sam and then be on my way.’

Feeling slightly disappointed, Donna nodded. She clambered from her horse, and handed the reins to the guard. ‘Can you have him taken care of, and my armour sent to my chambers?’ she asked.

The guard nodded. If there was any reluctance to do as she’d asked, she couldn’t see it. Perhaps the request would be fulfilled then, instead of being conveniently ‘forgotten’ or sidetracked somehow.

‘Well, Doctor, it looks like you’re going to meet my father after all,’ she said. ‘And, since he wants me immediately, we get to ride.’ She led him through the gatehouse and into the garage behind it, where a small red runabout waited. The Doctor followed her in silence, brooding. She started the electric car, and moved it out into the streets.

She loved New London. She’d never known the old one, of course, but she’d seen pictures and videos of it. Dirty, cramped, and overladen with people. Rebuilding since the end of the Dalek invasion had concentrated on the old City of Westminster, and a great deal of the wreckage had been razed, the ground cleared, and new buildings erected. Most were three storeys or under, since there were far fewer people living in New London. Space wasn’t at a premium yet. Donna regretted that some of the old buildings were gone for ever, but some had been too badly damaged in the fighting to be allowed to stand. There were, though, still some historical treasures left standing. Big Ben had somehow made it, and the restoration of the Houses of Parliament was still progressing. Westminster Abbey remained, somehow untouched by all of the destruction. St Paul’s was gone, destroyed in some battle or other, and then flattened to make room for houses and shops. The South Bank, too, had been regenerated. There was little need for large concert halls these days, or theatres. What little music and drama were performed could barely fill the smaller venues.

There were plenty of people about, most of whom either didn’t know about the battle being fought over at Bexley, or else weren’t worried. They seemed to be untroubled.

‘Lemmings,’ said the Doctor with the faintest trace of a sneer on his face.

‘They’re just trying to live their lives as if nothing were happening, Doctor,’ Donna pointed out. ‘Commerce and industry must go on.’

‘Typical,’ he answered. ‘Banking, and stock markets, too?’

‘Banking, yes,’ Donna answered. ‘There’s always a need for money. But the stock markets are dead. There are no companies to invest in, really. All of the ones in production are owned by the nobility.

‘Nobility?’ The Doctor laughed hollowly. ‘I don’t suppose any of them can trace their pedigrees back more than a couple of generations.’

Donna’s face flushed. ‘No, they can’t,’ she agreed. ‘The royal family was wiped out by the Daleks, as were most of the Lords. The current bunch took their power and titles when reconstruction began.’

‘The biggest thieves and crooks rose to power, no doubt,’ the Doctor said moodily. ‘As is always the case.’

‘My father is one of those thieves and crooks,’ Donna pointed out, irritated by his accusations.

‘Well, you know him better than I do,’ the Doctor said. ‘Is that a good description of him? Or is he an enlightened ruler, a kindly, gentle patron of the arts?’

Donna wished she could lie, but there was something about the Doctor’s manner that assured her that an untruth would be instantly detected.’ We’ve had our… differences,’ Donna admitted. ‘But he’s a lot better than most. And a world away from that bastard Haldoran.’

The Doctor sighed. ‘That’s hardly a recommendation. Look, Donna, this is none of my business, and I don’t intend to stay here once I’ve made my calls. You’re the one who has to live here and deal with this. But don’t you think things could be run on better lines?’

‘Of course they could!’ she snapped. ‘But when in human history could that not be said?’

The Doctor laughed ruefully. ‘Never, I have to admit. And it’s not only in human history. My own people are no better.’

‘Then you can’t talk,’ Donna complained.

‘I can!’ he said, seemingly puzzled. ‘Talking’s what I do best. What differences do you have with your father?’

‘They’re personal,’ she answered roughly ‘And, while I like you, I have no intentions of opening up my private life for your inspection, OK?’

He nodded. ‘Understood. I’ll try to restrain my curiosity and my inclination to meddle and offer advice.’

‘That will help us get along better,’ Donna advised him. She turned the car into the approach. The Doctor raised his eyebrows.

‘The Tower of London?’ he commented. ‘Your father’s taken over that? Why not Buckingham Palace, while he was at it?’

‘The Daleks blew it up,’ she replied tersely.

‘Ah, so it’s now a fixer‐upper.’ The Doctor watched with interest as they halted beside the guard post. ‘Did Daddy appropriate the Crown Jewels as well?’

She shook her head. ’They were evacuated during the occupation, and nobody’s quite sure where they went.’

‘That must have disappointed him,’ the Donor commented. ‘Can’t have a proper coronation without the right headgear, can one?’

Donna glared at him. ‘Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?’ she demanded.

‘No, it’s purely a side effect of my thinking out loud,’ he assured her ‘I always have a problem with authority figures. Do you think your father would make a good king? Or even a mediocre one?’

He had this habit of asking questions she’d rather not answer, and, at the same time, making you feel as if you had to. She ignored him, leaned out of the window, and called to the guard, ‘Hey! What’s taking so long? Have you forgotten what I look like already? I’ve only been gone three days.’

‘We’re on war footing,’ the sentry answered. ‘Security’s a lot tighter.’

‘Really?’ Donna half recognised the man as one who’d given her trouble in the past. ‘Well, since my father wants to see me, I’ll be certain to tell him that you’ve been so astonishingly thorough. And I’ll be sure to spell your name correctly in my report.’

‘I’m only doing my job,’ the man answered, his face darkening.

‘I’m sure my father will commend you, then.’ Donna glared at the man, and he finally opened the barrier for her to pass.

As they drove through, the Doctor observed quietly, ‘You don’t seem to be terribly popular here, which I find rather odd. You’re the Lord’s daughter, and might be stepping up to Princess any day now. It can’t be a smart career move to antagonise you.’

Donna glared at him. ‘I told you, I’m not opening my private life up for your inspection and approval. Let it drop.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded, as if she’d just confirmed something he’d suspected. ‘You’re the black sheep of the family, eh? He’s not too worried about irritating you. Only about annoying your father.’ He frowned. ‘But if you’d been disinherited, Daddy wouldn’t want to see you. Or have you running around in fancy dress.’

‘Let it drop,’ she snarled. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or pleading. For some reason, she was worried about what he would think of her.

He gave her one of his high‐powered grins. It was like having a spotlight shone into her face, almost powerful enough to make her wince. ‘Let’s consider it shelved – for now,’ he suggested. ‘So, where’s your father set up house? The Bloody Tower? It would be appropriate.’

‘The White Tower,’ she replied, pulling into a parking space on what had once been Tower Green. She gestured at the imposing building. She’d grown up here, but the hundred‐foot tower still impressed her. ‘Off we go.’

There were more troops out, and a lot of people hurrying here and there. Most ignored her, and she returned the lack of attention. Warfare always meant activity, though how much of it was actually productive she couldn’t say. The Doctor stayed with her as she hurried up the ramp that led to the main door. There were further guards on duty, but these, at least, didn’t give her a second look. However, they were not so kind to the Doctor.