On the corner of threadneedle street and potters lane stands a small sweet shop. Opposite is a small cafe, and on the cafe's corners there used to stand a tall blue police box. (Now don't interrupt me cause It's a kind of story.) All the kids used to call it the magic box, and so did the man who owned it. My great great grandmother remembers him as a small white haired old man who came in one day with a recipe for jelly babies. "It was on one of those foggy nights, a real pea-souper" She used to say. "There was this enormous racket and this blue box appeared on the corner. Funny it was, never seen one before then but it just fit right in. As if it belonged there." Great, great gran used to love telling us the story of how she met the man who called himself the Doctor. Great gran, however, only remembers 'im as a jolly man with dark hair and a little tin whistle. He played it for my mum, and the kids used to crowd around the shop when he was there. He used to play for them too, then he'd buy everyone a small bag of great granny's famous jelly babies and bumble off with the special box. The special box, as great, great gran called it, was packed to the gunnels with her secret recipe jelly babies. Everyone else just got the ordinary jelly babies, but granny always gave the Doctor the special box. I remember stealing one when I was five. Mum gave me such a hiding, but it had definitely been worth it. I got an orange one that had escaped into a corner, while great granny (great, great granny was too old to do the box by then) and granny filled it to bursting. Mum caught me sneaking out the kitchen with it, but she let me have it anyway. "They has to be perfect fer the Doctor." She said, then gave me a hiding that had me still wincing from the bruises the day after. It was worth it though. The Doctor turned up for great, great granny's funeral. I remember, 'cause I was eight at the time. This time he was very tall, had white hair, a velvet jacket and a sparkle in his eye. I was crying, 'cause granny had died. He picked me up and looked me in the eye with that sparkle of his. "Don' cry. She had a wonderful time and not everyone gets to be a hundred and twenty you know." Then he gave me the most mischievous wink I'd ever seen (Not even Johnny Wilkins at number twenty two could do that wink) and popped one of great, great granny's jelly babies in my mouth. It was weird, all the grown ups were crying but all of a sudden I felt really happy. He disappeared after that, but turned up again for great granny, and granny's funerals. They'd been caught out visiting a friend in north London when the blitz started. He hadn't changed much, still tall with his shock of blinding white hair and that wonderful smile that just said "Everything will be fine." I remember the blitz, I was too young to be drafted but too old to be sent away, so me and mum just kept making sweets in our little sweet shop. Heaven knows how we survived. Sugar was rationed, eggs were rationed everything! We even had a visit from the police 'cause they thought we were smuggling sugar and stuff to make sweets. That was a day. Mum showed them the store pantry where all of our sweet ingredients were kept. The place was bare! I remember distinctly the sergeant wandering around the pantry, picking up the one bag of sugar, the little box of powdered eggs, the tiny box of gelatine and walking out the front door thoroughly disgusted. The little bell tinkling behind him, and all our shelves full of home-made, cut price, sweets. I remember asking mum, "How?" And she just gave me a wink, and said "That's great, great, great granny's best kept secret son. When you're old enough to start making sweets, you'll know all about it." That was her last word on the subject. We saw the Doctor a few times during the war. It popped in occasionally to pick up a new box of jelly babies, and check to see how mum was. When mum was ill in 1945, he sat down and showed me a magic trick. With, of course, a jelly baby. Mum was fine the next day. She said that the Doctor had given her a magic pill which made her bronchitis go away. He did things like that. When I asked him about it one day he just turned to me and said. "Just giving time a helping hand. Oh, and don't go out next Tuesday morning. " Then he and his magic blue box disappeared. I remember that Tuesday. "Always listen to what the Doctor has to say" Mum always said. So I did. I'd been planning on going down to the dairy to fetch some milk for the chocolates but I stayed in and helped mum to make some rock instead. The blast from the unexploded bomb shook all the windows from the houses in the street, except ours. Odd that, come to think about it. 'Cause we were at the other end of the street and practically opposite the diary. We had those big windows, and they didn't even crack. Suppose I shouldn't think about it really. Anyway, saved my life he did. Even though there was only only one injury, and that was a sprained ankle. Now where's that tea? Ah, thankyou. Anyways, next time I saw the Doctor he was a tall man with brown curly hair, the longest scarf you've ever seen. Oh, and a metal dog and he had a woman with him as well. That was, ooh, 1963. Tele had just started, and the Americans said they was going to land a man on the moon. They did too. Anyway, this woman in the skimpiest leotard you've ever seen leaps in through the front door brandishing this huge knife. Poor mum nearly had a fit! The kids who were in the shop scattered, as this woman (Can't remember her name) crouched on the floor snarling at everyone. Then in strides the Doctor (You know its 'im 'cause he has that glint in his eye) as if nothings going on! Mum recognises him immediately of course, and rushes into the back room for one of the box's she'd made only that morning. Just after that another Doctor walks in. This one's half the tall one's size and has another woman with him wearing a leather jacket with, what was it now arse? No, oh well, anyway mum wasn't half in a tiz, two of him at the same time! Anyway she hands over the second box, calm as you please. The Doctor is having a quick chat with himself, the kids have rushed out and the two women and the dog (I think it was a dog) just stood there eyeing each other like they was about to have a fight or something. Well, the Doctor shakes hands with himself, and then we waits for five minutes while they try to lead each other out the door. Just as the little one leaves, he had a funny little brolly with him if I remember with a question mark as the handle, he says stay out the back until (He flip's open a little pocket watch) about five. Well, it's about nine in the morning, but we knows to listen to the Doctor. Just as well we did. There was such a din! And then all these army men come around asking us if we saw anything. "Out the back making sweets." Says our mum. "Didn't hear a thing." So they left, just like that. Humph. He turned up to my wedding, young he was, with blonde hair and a sprig of celery in his lapel. Had a nice Australian with him, but he said he was "Just dashing through, thought I'd wish you luck." He pumped my hand up and down and left. Doris found a beautiful little flower on the front porch when we got back, with a little note that said "Congratulations. From the Doctor." It's over there on the window shelf. Flowers all year round you know. There's always a new flower to replace one that died, been like that for forty years now. Doris loved it, and the smell. It was on her bedside cabinet when she died. Ah well. Now it's time to pass the flag to you dear, take care of the Doctor won't you. He'll see you right in this world. He's due tomorrow around nine. He's not usually late, and it'll probably be the one with the bad dress sense and the nice young American lady. Always listen to what he says, and whatever else you do don't lose that recipe. Just make sure you keep making those Jelly babies, its tradition.