The Watchmaker's Daughter: Chapter Four

[amberfocus]

Title: The Watchmaker's Daughter (4/10)
Author: amberfocus
Characters/Pairings: The Tenth Doctor(John Smith)/Rose Tyler, Pete Tyler, Martha Jones, Joan Redfern, Timothy Lattimer, various original characters
Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, HN/FOB rewrite
Rating: Teen (for now, may go up later)
Betas: amyo67, thetesh
Summary: At the Doomsday wall an unexpected twist of fate sends Rose and Pete Tyler back to 1913 instead of to the parallel universe. While the Doctor and Martha are hiding from the Family of Blood at Farringham School for Boys the Tylers try to make a life for themselves in the nearby village.

Previous Chapters: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/565160.html

Chapter Four: A Visit to Farringham

Martha Jones was about ready to hit the Doctor about the head with a large fish. She giggled to herself as she darted across the courtyard, lantern held high, to the servants’ quarters where she shared a room with Jenny. It hadn’t taken long for the other maid’s colloquialisms to rub off on her. She liked Jenny, who treated her like there were no differences between them. She had known that they were in a hurry running from the family, but there still should have been enough time to ask the TARDIS to take them somewhere where she wouldn’t have been scrubbing floors and looked down on both because of her assumed station in life as well as the color of her skin. Using the chameleon arch hadn’t been a quick process by any means. It had been agonizingly slow.

Maybe she wasn’t being fair. The Doctor didn’t seem to notice things like skin color so it simply might not have occurred to him and they had been in rather a hurry. She’d been attuned to racism all of her life, albeit on a much subtler level than she was receiving here. The Doctor might not notice it, but John Smith certainly did. It would have been helpful if the TARDIS had not made him so different, but she had to admit that this new personality was rapidly curing her of her starry-eyed infatuation with the man.

She had meant to ask the matron if she could borrow one of the medical texts she’d seen in the woman’s office when the maids, grooms, and kitchen staff were undergoing their weekly inspection for head lice. She was curious to know how much medicine had changed in the last century, but the woman had barely spoken to her before retreating to her rooms. Martha had never felt so conspicuous and yet so ignored in her entire life as she did in this set of circumstances.

In the normal course of events, there was a room on the TARDIS where she could go to get her frustrations with the Doctor out. She could kick and punch and hit to her heart’s delight. And swear. But right now all of that was denied her. The TARDIS was dark until the three months were up. It had been seven weeks of biting her tongue and saying yes, sir, and yes, ma’am and keeping her opinions to herself. She just didn’t know how she was going to get through five more.

She heard the bell being rung for curfew for the children and was just about to enter her room when she heard a scraping noise around the side of the building. “Who’s there?”

“Just me,” said the soft voice of one of the students. He came into view and she held the light up to look at him. It was the young boy with haunted eyes who looked like he’d seen the dark side of the universe.

“Timothy? Oh, what have they done now?”

“Just a scrape,” he said, but she could tell by the way he was holding his wrist it was probably a sprain.

“Let me have a look at it,” she said imperiously.

He held out his arm, not even thinking to question her authority. The sleeve of his uniform was torn and dirty and a long bruise purpled the exposed skin. It was swollen. “It’s fine,” the boy insisted.

“If the swelling hasn’t gone down by morning, I want you to go see Matron Redfern.”

“My arm will be fine. It’s the uniform I’m going to have trouble with. I’ve only got one spare and it’s costing everything Mum has to keep me here.”

“I can fix it,” Martha said. “Slip it to me in the morning and I’ll have it washed and mended for you the night after tomorrow. Meet me here just before curfew.”

“You are very kind.”

“I just wish I could do more for you,” Martha said.

“You do enough. I’ve just got to learn to get out of the way faster.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” she said.

“There are a lot of things you shouldn’t have to do, either, Miss Jones. Yet you do them all the same.” He looked directly into her eyes, one of the few people who did so since she’d come here. “I am sorry.”

“About what?” she asked.

“The watchmaker’s daughter. It will always be her.” And with that, he hurried off into the night.



Onna was more than happy to escort Rose to Farringham the next afternoon, once her chores for Mrs. Jenkins were done for the day. She danced around Rose with youthful anticipation. “I love going there,” she confided in Rose.

“Because you get to see Tim?” asked Rose.

“Well, sometimes, if he’s not busy. And sometimes to bring things to Mrs. Jenkins grandson. He gets homesick easily. They keep the boys awful busy. But it’s the school itself I like to see. You wouldn’t know it to look at it, but it’s beautiful inside. It has grand staircases and once,” she paused and looked around as if there were someone else on the moor who could be listening, “when no one was around ‘cepting one of the maids, I slid down the front bannister!”

“You didn’t,” Rose teased.

“I did. And she winked at me. Told me she’d wanted to do that since the day she’d arrived at Farringham. I keep hoping I can do so again, but someone’s always about.”

“Couldn’t she have got in trouble?” Rose asked.

“I suppose so, but she didn’t seem to care. She’s very brave. I like her. She looks after Tim, too, when some of the other boys—.” She broke off, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“What?” asked Rose.

“I say too much sometimes. You make me forget that you’re a grown up.”

Rose smiled. “I’ve not been one for very long. I won’t tell your secrets, Onna. Anyway, I imagine I should still want to slide down that bannister with you and the maid.”

“Oh, Martha didn’t actually do it. She would have been dismissed if she’d been caught. Headmaster didn’t want to hire her. He only did so because she came with the history teacher. Not that that place couldn’t do with another maid or two, boys make such a mess, but…well, Mum says he’s a man set in his ways and not all of his ways are kind.” Onna blushed. “I’m sorry, that’s gossip, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to gossip.”

Rose didn’t respond to that, because she was learning a lot from Onna’s chattering, instead saying, “Is it much further?” As much as she was enjoying the fresh air, the wind went through her coat a little too strongly for her comfort. She couldn’t wear it properly because of the sling. The exercise helped, but not as much as a wool pullover and thick tights would.

“Just over the rise,” Onna said. “We need to go that way though.” She pointed to the left. “It’s almost time for target practice and some of the boys are rubbish shots. Bullets go wild.”

The school came into sight a few minutes later. It wasn’t terribly impressive, more sort of gray and squat and dismal. It was the sort of place that looked like it squashed dreamers and turned out a hive mind mentality and sorry to those who were individual thinkers. Once inside the main building though, Rose had to admit she was impressed by the highly polished floors and the tremendous staircase. Onna was right. That bannister was nearly irresistible and Rose felt a strong urge to throw caution to the wind, run up the stairs and slide down it. Only her injury kept her from indulging in the impulse.

“Where is everyone?” Rose asked.

“In classes for a little while yet. Come on. I’ll take you to the matron’s rooms.”

Rose followed Onna up the stairs and along a wide landing. “She’s at the end here.” Onna gave a light knock.

A moment later the door opened and Nurse Redfern smiled at them. “You came. Come in, come in.” She seemed genuinely happy to see Rose. They entered a large and tasteful sitting room, green and gold being the predominant colors of the decor. There was a door that was slightly ajar and Rose could see a bed covered with a double wedding ring quilt and a little table with a basin and pitcher atop it.

“Why don’t you sit down, Miss Tyler? It’s a long walk and you don’t look as if you’ve got all your strength back yet. I’ll send down for tea.” She pulled on a golden rope and Rose heard a faint chiming from some distance.

Rose took a seat on the pretty but completely stiff sofa. “I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s no bother. It’s nice to have some female company. I’m quite starved for it, surrounded as I am by the male persuasion.”

She moved over to a highboy and opened a drawer. “I got this for you, dear,” she said to Onna. “It’s for your sketches.”

The little girl opened the brown paper packet and pulled out a journal full of blank paper and a small box of colored pencils. “Oh, oh!” said Onna quite overcome. She threw her arms around Nurse Redfern. “Thank you!”

“Steady, child, it is but a small gift,” she said, but great pleasure showed on her face and she returned the girl’s hug.

“Not to me.” Onna let go of the older woman and walked over to a table and small chair. She busied herself with her presents.

“That was very kind of you,” Rose said.

“That one needs to have her dreams encouraged. She’s very intelligent. It’s a shame she had to leave school.”

A very pretty maid appeared in the doorway just then. She had bright, intelligent brown eyes, warm brown skin, and a demeanor that radiated quiet strength. In her uniform, she looked as out of place in this time period as Rose felt. “Yes, ma’am?” she asked.

“Ah, Martha, if you could, I’d like some refreshments brought up from the kitchen for my guests,” Nurse Redfern said.

“Martha!” Onna abandoned her sketchbook and pencils and hurled herself across the room, throwing herself at the maid.

“Onna!” said Nurse Redfern reprovingly, “Comport yourself like a lady! Hugging the maid! Whatever will Miss Tyler think of you?”

Martha’s arms came around the girl protectively and her eyes flashed fire for a moment before she swallowed whatever it was she had wanted to say.

“Miss Tyler thinks that perhaps young Onna and Martha are great friends,” Rose spoke up mildly, amusement in her voice. She smiled brightly at the maid. “Hello.”

Martha gave her a puzzled look, but smiled and returned the greeting. “Hello.” She looked over at Onna and her eyes sparkled. “We are great friends, aren’t we Miss?” she said to the little girl. “Would you like to come down to the kitchen with me? A certain brother of yours is playing taster for Cook. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“Oh, may I, Miss Tyler? I know I’m supposed to stay with you because of your arm, but it’s Tim. I so seldom get to see him and—.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Just return for me in an hour. That should give Nurse Redfern and me a good visit.”

Onna smiled and after a curtsey from Martha, followed the maid out of the room.

“You’ll spoil the child,” Nurse Redfern said.

“I am of the opinion that sometimes children need a bit of spoiling. Besides, Martha seems a good sort for her to go off with,” Rose said.

“I’m not sure of that,” the other woman said. “She’s awfully familiar and outspoken. The servants should know their place.”

“Do you mean Martha? Or Onna?” Rose asked directly and with a little bit of heat. “Technically Onna’s a servant, too.”

Nurse Redfern sighed. “I am afraid, Miss Tyler, that we are getting off on the wrong foot and I had hoped that we could become friends.”

“Of course we can,” Rose said. She swallowed the rest of her sentence. She didn’t think Nurse Redfern would like it much if she had added that she’d just as easily see herself becoming friends with someone like Martha. Even with the times being what they were, she thought she’d have far more in common with the young woman.

Still, she recognized the loneliness in Nurse Redfern and hoped that maybe she could ease it. After all, she understood loneliness. Despite the fact that she had barely been alone for more than a few waking hours since arriving in 1913 she still felt hauntingly lonely. Of course it wouldn’t matter how many friends she made. The loneliness in her heart would be filled by one man and one man only.

“Why don’t we go through my selection of books?” the matron said. “What interests you the most?” Rose allowed the subject to be changed, but hoped that later on she might be able to have a word with the maid. Determinedly she pushed all thoughts of the Doctor from her head. She’d think about him again later, after Pete had had some time to work on the teleport.



After an hour, Rose felt much more at ease with Nurse Redfern. The other woman had done some travelling in her life and they were able to talk about the sights of Paris and Rome. It would be an odd friendship, but Rose thought it would be one and she was glad of it. Visiting would give her something to do while her arm healed. She felt rather useless. She wasn’t used to being unable to pull her own weight.

Martha arrived with Onna in tow and retrieved the remnants of their refreshments to take back down to the kitchen. They talked for a little bit longer while Onna gathered up her journal and pencils and tied them back into a package for easy carrying.

Before they left, the matron checked Rose’s shoulder and then repeated her earlier advice of keeping it in a sling. Then with a smile she added, “You must come back and visit again.”

Rose smiled. “When would you like?”

“In a week? Same time?”

“Yes, and that should give me time to read these.” She gestured to the three books she’d picked out sitting in a small basket that the other woman had loaned her to make carrying them easier.

Onna picked it up and slipped her package inside, then looped the basket over her arm. The two women said their good-byes. As they made their way down the stairs, the loud chiming of a bell rang from somewhere overhead.

“Oh, let’s hurry,” said Onna. “Before all the boys are out of their classes.”

“What? Why?” Rose asked.

“No, really, we must!” she insisted, looking up the stairs and then quickly away again.

“Onna, what’s the matter?”

Onna didn’t answer, but her hand slipped into Rose’s and she pulled a little anxiously. They made it outside before too many of the boys were about and headed to the moor. “What was that all about?” Rose asked.

“Nothing,” said Onna.

“It must be something. You seemed afraid,” Rose said. Onna remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Did someone at that school hurt you?” she asked, her mind jumping to conclusions.

“Of course not!” Onna said. “Sorry, that’s not polite. I mean, no ma’am. It’s just that...well, he’s not meant to see you, Tim says. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“Who’s not meant to see me?” Rose asked in confusion. “Onna, what’s going on?”

The little girl looked miserable for the first time since Rose had known her. “It’s a secret. I know you said you’d keep mine, but I can’t tell you this one.”

“That’s all right,” Rose said, fighting down her innate curiosity. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Silence settled between them.

A few minutes later Rose heard a noise behind them and turned to look. The maid Martha was following them. “Hello again,” she said.

“Hello, Miss Tyler,” Martha replied. “Do you mind if I walk with you and Onna?”

“Of course not,” Rose said with a smile. “Company always makes things more enjoyable. What brings you to the village?”

“I need to get some cloth and a needle and thread,” Martha said somewhat guardedly. “And Cook wants me to pick up her extra shipment of spices.”

“What happened to the ones she had?” asked Onna.

“Rochester and Baines,” Martha said as if that were all the explanation that was needed. Onna nodded seriously.

“Who are Rochester and Baines?” Rose asked.

“A couple of spoiled brats,” Martha said, sounding like she couldn’t help herself and then looking horrified that the words had slipped out of her mouth. “I beg your pardon, Miss.”

“You need do nothing of the kind,” Rose said gently. “I have often found that children of the gentry can be awful little beasts.” She was quoting a character on one or the other of the television series she had grown up watching with her mother.

Martha gave her a startled half smile, almost as if she recognized the words. She couldn’t of course, so Rose tried to encourage the expression by returning a full smile of her own.

“Supper a week and a half ago, they dumped everything into the main course,” explained Martha. “And poor Cook was sick with a cold that ruined her senses of taste and smell. The Headmaster raved for hours.”

“I can imagine. My mum once made a curry that about burned off our taste buds. She’d dropped half a bottle of red pepper flakes in it and didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Martha laughed and seemed to relax after that. They chatted easily until reaching the village. Rose stopped Martha in front of the Jenkins’ shop before she could go on. “Would you like to come to tea sometime?” she asked impulsively.

Martha looked extremely startled. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, Miss.”

“Oh, bother what’s appropriate,” Rose said. “I like you and I don’t know anyone near my age. We’ve just moved here. If you would like to come, I would like to have you.”

“I have Saturday off, but…”

“Then Saturday. About half three?” Rose asked. “If you’re worried about walking back after dark, I’m sure my father would escort you.”

“I’m not. If…if you’re sure,” Martha said seeming very uncertain.

“I’m very sure.”

“Where should I come?”

“Here,” Rose said gesturing to the shop. “My father took a job working for Mr. Jenkins repairing watches. We live upstairs.”

“You,” Martha said, the word coming out on a gasp.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry, Miss Tyler, but I really should be getting on to the grocer and the haberdashery before they close.”

“But you will come?”

“On Saturday,” said Martha edging away. “Half three.”

“See you then.”

They parted then, calling good-byes to each other. Rose stared after Martha for a long moment before Onna pulled her around to the back of the shop and up the stairs to Rose’s rooms.

Ch. 5: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/566494.html

Comments

[susanb03.livejournal.com]

Uhoh, I let myself get behind...now I have two to read!

[amberfocus.livejournal.com]

Well, that's always nice, to have more to read, right?