Listen to: "In Flight" by Michael Harrison or "Thou Swell" by Bix Beiderbecke

"'Where you tend a rose my lad, a thistle cannot grow'"

Frances Hodgson Burnett from The Secret Garden

Chapter I: A New Gentleman in Town

To say Rose Tyler frequented the matches at the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club was a preposterous falsehood-mostly based on the fact that Rose actually despised everything about them. It was so horribly hot during the summer time, especially during the two week period where they held the Wimbledon Championships. Rose could never claim she enjoyed the sight of a yellow ball being obnoxiously swatted across a thin net over and over and over again for hours upon hours. So, Rose stood with her dad and mum where the audience hovered on the lawn, with her silly, frilly hat blocking the sun from her squinting eyes.

A match was called by the judge, and Rose could not help but sigh and attempt to fan herself with her hand.

"You know, I don't really see all of the fuss about Suzanne Lenglen in my opinion. She's actually hideous," Rose's mum, Jackie, rambled loudly.

Pete Tyler dismissed Jackie with ease, saying: "Sports aren't about appearances, this isn't the theatre. These women aren't actresses; they're athletes. With two past wins under her belt and a golden Olympic trophy, of course there's a fuss."

"Well, I'm just saying, her nose is rather odd," she shrugged in response, beginning to copy Rose in fanning herself, while Rose's father drew out a handkerchief to wipe his brow under his panama hat.

"Maybe it's 'cause she's French, mum," Rose smirked, eying the way Suzanne Lenglen leapt across the court with grace.

Jackie scoffed without any sort of tact. "I've seen many beautiful French women in my years. She's just ugly."

Rose could only roll her eyes at her mother in that moment.

#

"Rose, I want to introduce you to someone you might find very interesting!" Rose heard her mother loudly twang from behind her.

Rose let out a sigh as she let her mother forcefully turn her around by the bend of her arm.

"This is Mr. Jack Harkness. He works in Cardiff!"

Standing beside her mum was a tall gentleman in a very modern suit with pant cuffs. A homburg hat was in his right hand, and Rose noticed he had a quite handsome face with casual brown hair.

Mr. Harkness took Rose's gloved right hand in his left and bent down to gently kiss it, making her sigh inwardly.

Rose was accustomed to her mother bringing suitor upon suitor to her. While she was only nineteen, Jackie took it upon herself to nudge Rose along her path as a future house-wife. Sure, with her dad's fortune from his wireless company she could just simply sit at home with her parents the rest of her life, but it was expected for her, as for any woman, to marry. And, as Jackie and Pete's only child, she would be their only hope for the family tree to keep on.

There was nothing particularly wrong with Mr. Harkness, the more Rose analyzed him. He had almost a blue-grey eye colour that really stood out against his dark hair and suit, and he looked at her with an amused crooked grin that made her feel more at ease with the encounter, yet, just like all of the others, he was certainly not right for her in any way shape or form. He was too built in the shoulders, indicating he actively exercised…something Rose had never understood in people. The way his hair was cut and styled felt almost military in a way, even going towards law enforcement-a big turn-off for Rose seeing as she was raised by a man who never trusted the government or any of its branches. The list could go on for ages: too big of a chin dimple, lips too cold, hands too firm, too charismatic in the face (oh he would be an adulterer, Rose could already tell that).

Jackie Tyler stood with her hand on Mr. Harkness' arm, grinning expectantly at Rose as he almost seductively let Rose's hand glide back down to her side. "Cardiff you say?" Rose asked, feigning any sort of curiosity or interest in the man. "What do you do there?"

"Oh you know," Mr. Harkness shrugged, speaking in a Yankee accent, "this and that mostly. Whatever comes my way." Yes, Rose thought with a raised chin, he is most certainly in a secret government agency, probably only interested in me to get to my dad's finances and ventures, the sly military-man.

"And how is that going? Is what and where something you also do?" Rose quipped in return, making Jackie grow furious with her daughter while Mr. Harkness let out a laugh.

Her face red with embarrassment, Rose's mum hush-whispered: "Rose!"

Still chuckling to himself, he comfortingly patted Mrs. Tyler on the hand. "Yes, it just so happens I do do this and that, and what and where, and it and then."

While Jackie tried to laugh off her mortification and discomfiture with her daughter, Rose narrowed her eyes at Mr. Harkness while fixing her hat, irritated that he rebounded so quickly to her comment towards him. "Well, I am not allowed to partake in anything of that sort, so how unfortunate for me," she countered.

This time, Jackie loudly exclaimed her name in disapproval of her daughter, instead of bothering to whisper.

All Mr. Harkness responded with was a laugh and a: "Yes, unfortunate indeed", irking Rose further.

#

The car ride back to their large estate in Bromley, a town situated at the most southern tip of Greater London, was a taciturn affair that consisted of Rose sitting in the backseat in between her father and her mother, who took it upon herself to openly glower at Rose, making Pete rather uncomfortable.

"So," Pete started, cutting through the silence of the car, "I take it you're upset with Rose, dear."

"Oh, very," Rose's mum snapped back, crossing her arms.

Her dad nodded, unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. After a few moments, he continued. "Rose, do you have anything you want to say to your mother?"

"Dad, stick your nose somewhere else," Rose said coolly.

"Sure, alright."

At that, any self-control that was holding Jackie Tyler back from spilling her thoughts was lifted as she suddenly burst out: "Rose I cannot believe you humiliated me like that! Mr. Harkness showed genuine interest in you and you treated him like the sole of your boots! You cannot even imagine how embarrassing it was for me to attempt and excuse your behavior to him!"

At around Rose's age of fifteen or sixteen, her mum began the ongoing act of introducing a never-ending supply of suitors to her. At first, Rose was grateful for a mum who was completely comfortable introducing a sixteen year old girl to a man in his mid thirties, but by the tenth suitor after only a few months, she grew tired and irritated. The men never seemed to stop, and they never seemed to diverge from the others. They were all the same to her, and Mr. Harkness was no exception. He was tall, handsome, had a steady (yet suspicious) job-i.e., the perfect man for Rose in Jackie's eyes.

"You know, mum, you wouldn't have to if you just would ever leave me alone! Always introducing me to a new bloke every week-" she fired back. Making her voice all sharp and strident in an attempt to mimic Jackie, Rose continued her tirade with: "-Here, Rose, look at Mr. soandso, isn't he splendid? Oh look, Rose, Mr. whatshisface, he has three cars you know!"

"Oi! I don't sound anything like that!"

Rose huffed, "You're always bothering me about getting married and settling down! But, I'm bloody nineteen years old! I think sometimes you forget that!"

"You know, Rose, when I was your age-" Jackie began, making Rose groan and jiggle her knees in annoyance. "-I was already married and had you. And you're just sitting at home doing nothing with your life."

"Alright, mum! You tell me what I'm supposed to do with my life! What do you want me to do? Huh? I'm listening!"

Her mum straightened her back and held her head up a bit higher, a bit taken aback by Rose's easy submission. "I want you to get married, of course."

Rose huffed cruelly and shook her head, "Well, you better get comfy with me then, because married life is not suited for me-especially to a man who is about as original as the King of England himself."

Appalled and utterly flabbergasted, Jackie Tyler spent the rest of the ride back home fanning herself while Rose sat quite content with herself.

#

When the family friend, Dr. Smith, arrived that afternoon in search of Pete, Rose was propped up on her side on a lounge chair by the pool in the back of the house. Wearing a dark swimsuit with a light robe on top and a patterned head scarf, she flipped through a dated issue of Vogue with a bored look upon her face.

After arriving home, Jackie had promptly left again, presumably to go shopping in London (something she would regularly do when upset about something as unimportant as Rose's love life). This left Rose and her father alone. Her father and she had always had a fairly healthy relationship. Pete often had troubles identifying with his daughter, mostly because her life was so much different than his. He could not discuss politics, economics, work, or anything of the sorts with her because Rose would so easily dismiss his conversation as boring small talk only businessmen like himself participated in. But, whenever he attempted to get into her magazines or music or recent hairdos, she would laugh at him and tell him he was too old to even vaguely understand what "trendy" was. So, as soon as Pete and Rose were left alone, Pete made a hasty excuse and fled the room, leaving her (as always) alone.

Rose had never had many mates who she could spend time with. Sure, she had school mates back when she attended, but after school ended most of them got married and moved away, or went on to become nurses or schoolteachers or secretaries (professions identified with women). Rose decided then and there she would never settle for a monotonous job that was catered to privileged white women, who were unable to find husbands. So, she spent her days either following her mother around, or trying to pass the time by looking through magazines or listening to records she had accumulated over the years (her favourite record to listen to at that moment "Ain't We Got Fun", making her family tired of it quickly).

Rose heard light footsteps come out onto the patio, making her raise her eyebrows. "Yes?" she asked.

She heard a man's voice say: "Ms. Tyler?"

Not even bothering to look up from her magazine, she sighed. "Hello, Doctor. I don't know where my dad is. I presume he's left."

"Ah," Rose heard from the Doctor, followed by a pregnant awkward silence.

At this, she decided to look up from her magazine, seeing the ever lanky Dr. Smith (the Doctor of what sort she actually had no idea) with his blue pin-striped suit that was horribly out of fashion, soiled trainers, thin glasses, and wild hair style (he never ever wore hats despite the fact that everybody wore hats) that made him look like a man lost in another world. The more Rose thought about how long she had known the Doctor for, she could not recall him ever changing in a significant way. Well, he used to wear a brown suit, but other than that…well, he hadn't aged. One day, she actually asked him about it and he shrugged it off, assuming it was because he was not married and had no children, living a stress free life as a librarian at the British Museum in central London. Dr. Smith and Rose's dad had met at Oxford University; they had been mates for more than twenty years, so, it could be said that she was used to seeing the Doctor's face around.

"I'm sorry, did you need something?" Rose asked him, confused on why he still stood a few metres away from her, gazing around the backyard with a peculiar look on his face. Jackie's mum had always thought he was completely nutters, something Pete had denied and attempted to explain that he just spent too much time alone by himself, making Jackie nod and reply with 'yes, he is completely bonkers, that bloke.'

Grasping the books he held under his arm a bit tighter, Dr. Smith looked at Rose with a distracted glaze upon himself. "Ah, uhm, no…no, I just wanted to drop by and see how the Wimbledon was, that's all. If your dad isn't here I can come back, perhaps tomorrow…" He squinted a bit and thought long and hard. "Yes, tomorrow would be splendid, I don't have much going on tomorrow, I believe."

The Doctor turned to leave the patio, and Rose bit her lip, contemplating very hard. She was certainly bored out of her mind, and how often did she get an opportunity to talk to someone other than her housekeeper or her mum?..almost never, unless her parents hosted a party or gathering. Rose quickly closed her magazine and sat up in the lounge chair. "I'll tell you how it was…positively miserable."

A smirk escaped the Doctor's mouth while faced away from Rose before he turned around to again look at her. "Oh? Really? Why?"

"It was hot and boring and everyone there talked about things that were unfamiliar to me," she complained, yet secretly enjoying the fact that he was interested in her conversation.

The Doctor grinned kindly at her. "What did they all talk about?"

"Tennis and stuff," Rose shrugged.

"Rose, I believe it was a tennis match, was it not?" an amused Dr. Smith replied.

Teasingly, she rested her head on her hand. "Oh, sod off."

He shrugged and said: "Okay," before turning back around and taking a few steps in the opposite direction.

Rose hurriedly gathered herself, and the ends of her robe, up from the chair and held out her hand in a stopping gesture. "Wait!"

The Doctor froze, and once again smirked, but still did not turn back around.

"What books do you have there?" Rose inquired, nervously playing with the belt on her swimsuit.

"I didn't know you read academics, Ms. Tyler," he stated, turning back around.

Embarrassed then, Rose begun to stutter: "I-uh-no, well, I don't really-"

Laughing, the Doctor walked swiftly towards Rose and pushed the books he had into her empty hands. "Oh, don't be silly, Rose, you know me better than that. What's the fun in reading books that are true when you can read books that aren't?"

Studying the books in her hands, she began to sort through them, looking at the all of titles. The Time Machine, Around the World in 80 Days, and The First Men in the Moon were the books he had had slung underneath his arms carelessly. Face red, Rose softly uttered: "I..I've never heard of any of these. I'm sorry, I wasn't taught-"

"Important things?" he finished for her, adjusting his glasses.

"I was taught how to cook, how to clean, how to raise children ….but I've never read anything other than the Bible or a textbook," she rambled. "How embarrassing is that? A nineteen year old woman who's never read a book for fun."

The Doctor suddenly grew excited and jittering jumping up and down and smiling widely at Rose. "Never read a book for fun? How incredible! Just think, Rose! I've read every book in the entire world!"

"Every book in the whole world?" Rose interjected in disbelief.

Ignoring her, he continued: "I've read all of those books in your hands, Rose, and I will never get to read those books ever again for the first time. I know how they all end, and you don't! How wonderful it is to be you! You get to learn how they all end for the first time!"

Confused at his enthusiasm, Rose nervously laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess."

Growing quite serious, he held out his hands and sternly demanded: "Now, give those back right quick."

Having forgotten she was holding the books, Rose looked down at her arms, seeing the jumble of books in them. She had assumed he was going to let her borrow them, but obviously he did not believe she was capable of reading the kinds of things a smart, doctor read. Bowing her head and blinking back tears she mumbled: "Oh, right, sorry, I forgot I had them, Doctor." She jutted out the books towards him. "Here."

The Doctor smacked his hand onto his forehead roughly after he noticed Rose's long face, making her jump-startled by the loud noise. "Oh, I'm so rude, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you that I'm going to get you better books." He snatched the books from her hands and made a point of tossing them behind him, leaving them scattered on the cemented patio. "You don't want those, those are my picks. You'll have your own picks: books that speak to you."

At this, Rose's shoulders immediately perked back up. "Really? You'll bring me books?"

"Sure! Maybe someday you can come to the library and pick out your own!"

Rose clasped her hands together and grinned wide. "That sounds like something I've never done before! What kinds of books do you have?"

"Rose Tyler, I had everything you can dream of: action, essays, adventure, romance, comedy, erotica, historical, textbooks, biographies, dictionaries, science fiction, fantasy, crime, horror, fairytales, thrillers, encyclopedias, periodicals…" Dr. Smith relayed to a liberated Rose who was jubilated at the thought of doing something different during her long days. "Rose Tyler," he continued on, "I should warn you-you're gonna read about all sorts of things. Ghosts of the past. Aliens of the future. The day the Earth died in a ball of flame…"

"You know, Doctor, instead of warning me, I really should be warning you," Rose advised him, taking a slow step forward.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, now baffled. "Of what?" he asked, eying her suspiciously.

Rose let out a laugh-a good giggle that stuck her tongue in-between her teeth-and then she pointed to his books that still lay on the patio. "Your books?" she chuckled as he whirled around and hastily picked them up off the cement, checking to make sure they were alright.

"I was making a point, Rose Tyler," he exclaimed, breathy. "It's gonna be a trip of a lifetime, you see. Reading can take you anywhere."

Rose grinned and wrapped her robe tighter around her figure, noticing the way Dr. Smith's attention quickly went from her face down to where her hands tugged on the material. "Then you better come back with my books then."

"But what are you interested in reading?" he inquired, his eyes going back up to meet hers.

Rose walked a few steps back and slowly sat down on the edge of the lounge chair, crossing her legs. She rested her head on her palm and looked up at his face marked by uncertainty. "I want the journey of a lifetime."

#

The next few days at the library in the museum were very difficult for the Doctor, for the fact that he could not figure out what would please Ms. Tyler the most. Any appropriate man, who did not spend his nights remembering that Ms. Tyler was in fact his best mate's daughter, would have found a few books for her in about twenty minutes and that would have been the end of it. But, as days went by, he felt an itching to pick out the books that would have the most effect on her. He didn't want to choose books that he thought she would like; he wanted to give her books that contained her dreams.

This task was unimaginably difficult and after the fourth day's closing, the Doctor grew frustrated, and began to tear through the circular dome, throwing books off the shelves as he eliminated their chance of pleasing Ms. Tyler in his mind. He plucked one book off of the shelf and bent his arm to throw it over his shoulder, but caught the sight of the title and his arm froze, bringing it back to in front of him.

The Secret Garden

Frances Hodgson Burnett

The library began carrying the book solely because of Burnett's other novel's successes, but, it was on the slate to be removed because of the fact that hardly no one every checked the book out. This book was children's literature, which made the Doctor unsure of how Ms. Tyler would respond to him giving her a book meant for little boys and girls. Would it come off as an insult to her comprehensibility? But, he had read this book before, and he felt in love with it by the very first line of the work:

When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen.

Such a strong voice for a children's author, it reminded him of Ms. Tyler.

Yes, he would present her with this, he decided, and hoped she would like it.

#

Rose Tyler sat on the sofa in the sitting room, lit by electric lighting, as one of the house keepers hurried to finish the dusting. She sighed and twiddled with her thumbs.

"Sophia?" Rose asked, rolling her head back in forth in boredom.

"Yes, Miss?" the house keeper answered, not ceasing her work.

Turning to gaze out of the large windows, Rose noticed how pitch dark it had become. Dinner was usually held much earlier, during the long days of the summer. "When will dinner be ready? It's already half eight."

Sophia was now dusting the clock that sat above the fireplace. "I was told we were waiting for our guest, who's scheduled to arrive at nine."

Her heart nearly soared out of her chest as the Doctor immediately crossed her mind. She had not seen him or heard of him since earlier that week, when he had promised her he would bring her books to read. But, a part of her mind advised her that of course he had not come, he was a grown man with a job and a life of his own. He hardly spent his time fussing over her. Before a few days ago, he had rarely even spoken to Rose. Sure, they both had previously known each other. Rose had known Dr. Smith since practically birth, she would say. He was always around spending time with her father, whether it be golfing or tennis or racquetball. Afterwards, Dr. Smith would usually stay for dinner, always sitting across from little Rose. He would discuss his work at the museum, interesting herself and Pete, but leaving her mother thinking little of his monotonous "little-people" job.

"Do you know who the guest is?" Rose straightened her back and leaned in with interest.

Sophia turned around and shook her head. "No, Miss. Mrs. Tyler has not told any of the staff. She plans on it being a surprise, I believe," she conveyed before swiftly walking out of the room and heading for the kitchens.

Rose's smile faltered and she stood up from the coach, fixing the rumples of her skirt. She prepared herself for the ultimate showdown between her and her mother over dinner with the inevitable: Mr. Harkness.

#

Mr. Harkness sat across from Rose while Mr. and Mrs. Tyler each sat at the heads of the table. Pete read the newspaper as he left his peas untouched, while Jackie laughed and clapped her hands at each and every elaborate story Mr. Harkness told the table.

Rose chose not to respond to his stories at all, sitting perfectly straight and stoic while she ate her dinner and tried to tune out the obnoxious aggravation that was her newest suitor and her mother.

"And then," Mr. Harkness continued with wild hand gestures and a flashy smile, "We whizzed off in the airplane narrowly escaping the cliff's edge!"

Once again, clapping her hands with a wide grin upon her face, Jackie continued to stroke his ego. "I cannot believe the war was so perilous!" She turned to Rose, who, noticeably, was avoiding the table's conversation while fingering her long pearled necklace. "Rose, tell him what a miracle of God that was."

Plastering on her best faux smile she could muster, she flipped her head around to look at Mr. Harkness. "What a miracle of God that was, Mr. Harkness. I would applaud you for your service," she said through narrowed eyes and cruelly scrunched nose. Turning to her mother, she continued with: "But, it appears my mother already did."

Pete smirked as he flipped the newspaper page, doing a good job at avoiding being pulled into the tension between the two women.

Her mother opened her mouth to defensively respond, but Mr. Harkness interrupted, turning the conversation's focus onto Rose. "So Rose, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?" he asked, taking a sip of his brandy. After swallowing: "Do you like to sew or cross-stitch? My mate's wife loves to cross-stitch."

"Actually, I do not sew or cross-stitch, nor do I clean or cook or knit or raise children, Mr. Harkness. I usually partake in reading magazines, listening to records, or blankly staring at a wall because, frankly, that's all I'm good for."

The table grew painfully silent as Mr. Harkness slowly set down his glass, Jackie Tyler was rendered thankfully speechless, and Pete Tyler looked up from his newspaper, choosing to instead proudly grin at his daughter's flushed face.

The noise of wood pushing across the rug was heard as Rose stood from her chair, placing her napkin on her empty plate. "If you will excuse me, I have some flowered wallpaper to admire." She gave one last tightly-lipped smile before curtly departing, not bothering to push her chair back in.

After a few moments passed Pete let out a laugh, garnering an icy glare from his wife. "Oh boy," he chuckled as he resumed his reading, "she's just made a fool of us all."