November 16 - November 21st, 1881

After breakfast on Wednesday morning, Jenny washed the dishes and did her chores. Around eleven Jo went in search of her, and found Jenny checking the pantry and larder for the mid-week grocery order. "When you're done, are you ready for your first lesson with me?" She asked, holding up ring of small metal keys. "I thought we'd start with some lock picking today, and then work on the self-defense lessons later in the week."

"Makes sense," said Jenny. "I sent a note to our sewing lady yesterday after you told me what Madame said in her note. Mrs Mandelstam'll make you up some practice clothes quick enough. They won't be pretty, but they'll be nice and sturdy. She knows what Madame and me like."

"I don't really know how much I can teach you about self-defence Jenny," Jo said, a little sadly, as Jenny continued her work. "I'm more apt to talk my way out of things then fight my way out."

"Madame wouldn't have said anything if she didn't think you could teach me a fair bit. She's funny like that," Jenny replied easily. She led Jo out of the pantry, and put the shopping list on the kitchen table for later.

"Well, opening locks is fun too," said Jo. "But first we need some to practice on."

Jenny grinned, and led Jo to back to the Housekeeper's room, tucked between the back stairs and the Servant's hall. "Found a couple when we were cleaning up the house after we moved in. Two have keys, and one don't. Keep 'em in here so I can muck around with them if I'm waiting for something to cook."

Jenny showed Jo her finds. All three were heavy iron locks, two with old-fashioned warded keys. Well, Jo allowed, they looked old-fashioned to her, as she was so use to modern 'pin and tumbler' style of lock. The third one would be a bit more of a challenge, and Jo was looking forward to testing her skills. "Have you had any luck with opening them?" asked Jo.

Jenny held up the smallest lock. "I can open this one with one of the spare keys we have, but it takes me a bit of fiddling," she replied. "No luck with the other yet."

Jo took the lock and demonstrated how her picks worked, and how quickly and easily they could open the lock with a little practice. "Which is why better locks, a little harder to pick, are mostly used where I'm from," she explained.

Once they started, Jo found that Jenny was an excellent student. She paid attention, and followed instructions. She was also patient when one of the locks proved more resistant to opening.

The third lock, the one missing its key, had a slightly more sophisticated lock, with a keyhole with a pin in the middle. "Right, now this is a lever lock, and the key for it is hollow," explained Jo. "So you need a different type of pick, called a lever wire. It's still pretty simple though. You need to match the length of the wire hook to the size of the hole, from the pin to the bottom, see? Too short and it won't reach the lever inside, too long and it will jam." Jo demonstrated how to select the hook from her picks, and added, "You can bend a piece of wire to fit too, but that takes a bit of practice. If the wire's too soft or too thin, it will just bend when you try to use it, instead of opening the lock."

They practiced a few time on each of the locks, and then Jo let Jenny keep the picks for now. "We'll need to get you some more locks to practice that on. Next time we'll see what we can do with the doors," said Jo. She was very amused at Jenny's eager nod. She also hoped Madame Vastra knew what she was doing, asking Jo to teach Jenny these skills. Judging by the gleam in Jenny's eye, there soon wouldn't be a lock in the house that was safe from Jenny's curiosity.

On Wednesday afternoon, Jenny went upstairs to tend the small collection of plants and Jo and the Doctor settled in to read the day's papers in the library. A short while later, they were interrupted by a fierce pounding sound. It seemed to come from below their feet.

"What on earth!?" exclaimed Jo.

"I believe someone is demanding entrance at the kitchen door," remarked the Doctor wryly, standing up and leading the way towards the back stairs.

"Doesn't anyone around here knock normally?" asked Jo.

"Here? Not bloody likely," snorted Jenny as she hurried past them down to the kitchen.

The visitor turned out to be young Wiggins, bouncing on his toes with excitement.

"'Ello, Jenny, Doctor, Miss! I found a bit of one of those pods, I did! We'd best go and get it right quick though, 'afore a guard or some else spots it!"

They grabbed coats and cloaks and followed a very impatient Wiggins, without bothering to hail a carriage or cab. Jenny brought a large shopping basket along. Although it discreetly covered with a piece of chequered cloth, there was a loop of rope peeking out, and Jo wondered with amusement what Jenny was up to.

Wiggins led them through a maze of back streets so they wouldn't be seen from the railway lands, and then along a narrow path running parallel to the tracks. Jo realized that they weren't very far from where they'd seen the pods and the guard's ashes before. But they were approaching it from a different angle. There were small, scrubby bushes here, clinging tenaciously to the hard dirt. Most had lost their leaves to the cool autumn weather, and those that remained on the plants were brown and dry. By a dense tangle of bushes, Wiggins stopped and pointed.

Buried deep in the brush and the ground beneath it was what certainly looked like part of a pod. The alien surface was unmistakable. The Doctor squatted down and examined the piece.

"Must be from the one that smashed up when it hit the shed," said Jenny. "Looks like it bounced a few times and dug itself in here."

"Yes, that makes sense," said the Doctor. "Well done Master Wiggins!"

Wiggins made a face. "Just Wiggins, sir. Honest."

Jo saw Jenny slip Wiggins a few coins, and raised an eyebrow. Jenny caught it, and quietly explained. "Madame Vastra pays the local boys and girls if they help us out. She pays a guinea a clue. Mind, Mr Thackeray says the mint hasn't made guineas for years, but the bank's got lots in storage, so Madame buys 'em special. I think she likes the idea of doing something different."

Jo frowned for a moment, trying to remember where she'd heard of a similar arrangement. The Doctor was quicker.

"A guinea a clue? Like the Baker Street Irregulars?" he asked, with a distracted air still concentrating on the piece of the pod.

Jenny look confused. "Never heard of them, Doctor. Do they help out with errands too?"

"You mean like holding horses and running messages?" asked Jo.

Jenny shook her head. "Most any of the youngsters around here'll do that for a few pennies. Wiggins and his lot help Madame Vastra by gathering information and keeping an eye on people. Madame's from up near Baker Street, maybe she knows them."

The Doctor looked up at that, and addressed Jenny. "My dear girl, what year is this again?"

Jenny looked up at him like he was daft, but only said, "It's 1881, sir."

"1881? Really?" he looked thoughtful. "A few years early yet for the Sherlock Holmes stories. But 1881 is the year that Holmes met Watson. What an interesting coincidence."

"Watson?" asked Jenny confused. "Who's Watson?"

"Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson!" crowed the Doctor. "The Great Detective and his chronicler! You keep reading those adventure stories of yours Jenny. In a few years you're in for a real treat!"

Jo just rolled her eyes. Sherlock Holmes was always too full of himself for her taste. Honestly, she was more of a fan of Irene Adler herself. Now there was a Modern Woman!

The pod piece was stuck fast. "We'll need to dig it out," said The Doctor. "Wiggins, see if you can find a spade or…"

Jenny promptly produced a large garden trowel from her basket. "This help?" she asked.

"Just the thing," nodded the Doctor as he took it. "Now maybe we'll start to get somewhere!"

The Doctor and Wiggins started digging, the Doctor digging at the hardened earth with the trowel, and Wiggins scooping aside the loosened dirt. Jenny watched them for a moment but there wasn't much room to work, she'd just get in the way if she tried to help. So she looked around, to see if she would find another bit of pod in the nearby shrubs. She left Jo on lookout for the Railway Guards, and started to search under the nearby bushes.

With a few minutes, she found something, but it wasn't a bit of the pod. Least, she didn't think it was.

There were bits of shredded… well, it wasn't quite cloth to Jenny's eye, it looked sort of like metal. Maybe just a really shiny piece of silver coloured linen, she thought. Like part of a fancy ball dress? She'd heard of such things, but never seen them herself.

She reached for it, and then recollected her standing instructions. 'If I don't know what it is, don't touch it until Madame's looked at it.' Madame had been pretty firm about that one. She'd rapped Jenny's knuckles for it once. Not hard but it had stung. Jenny remembered to call Madame after that.

Or in this case, the Doctor would do, she guessed. She glanced back, and saw that the others had got the pod-piece loose, and were looking it over carefully.

Jenny looked over her own prize for another moment, and then called the adults over.

The Doctor ambled over, reluctant to leave off his investigation of the pod fragment. His attention sharpened though when he saw Jenny's find. He looked it over with interest, and then carefully picked up the scrap of metal cloth with the trowel.

Beneath it was a large bit of bone that looked a bit gnawed, but still disgustingly fresh. There were a lot of dead insects around it. It ended in what looked like it might have been a hand. It seemed to be missing a finger though.

"Ewww!" breathed Jo, leaning away from the grisly object

Jenny just leaned in a bit closer, her curiosity evident.

"Well, that's a stroke of luck…" murmured the Doctor.

"Bad Luck fer him, good luck for us?" asked Jenny.

"Just so," nodded the Doctor. He produced a large handkerchief from his pocket, and using the trowel, placed the bone and several of the insects on it, folded part of the handkerchief over it, placed the scrap of cloth on that, and then folded the rest of the handkerchief around all of it in a neat package.

They placed the shattered piece of the pod into a cloth sack Jenny produced from her basket, packed the trowel back into the basket, added cloth wrapped bone, and then Jenny covered it all with the chequered cloth. Jo was amused to realize that Jenny kept a basket of tools ready in the kitchen for use at a moment's notice. What other adventures had the girl been involved in?

As they walked slowly back to the house, Jo noticed that the Doctor had a distracted look. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm rather worried about those dead insects," explained the Doctor, as he nodded at the basket and sack that he carried. "Until we know what happened, or if these materials are dangerous, I'm rather reluctant to bring them into the house, in case they're contaminated."

"If you like, we could put 'em in one of the rooms over the coach house. They'd be safe, but not in the big house," said Jenny. "There's a workbench and some tools there too, if that might help."

"Excellent. I think would be just the ticket!"

As they walked, Jo Grant kept darting off to look down alleys and into closed gardens along the way. "What are you doing, Miss?" asked Jenny when Jo returned from one of her detours.

"Still looking for the TARDIS, I'm afraid," said Jo.

"This TARDIS thing, does it disappear very often?" asked Jenny.

"Well, yes and no. It's not alive really, as far as I know. Although the Doctor often talks as if it is. But it does seem to have the strangest things happen to it. Once it landed wrong, and fell off a cliff; we barely got out in time. The locals eventually recovered it for us. And another time it was grabbed by a giant hand… well, actually the TARDIS was inside a miniaturization field and so were we and The TARDIS was gumming up the works,. The hand was really normal size…."

Jenny could only look at Miss Jo, and wonder if the woman was not right in the head.

"Hang on, it landed wrong? What does that mean, that it's like a balloon? Thought it was some sort of carriage?"

"It's a time ship, Jenny," said the Doctor. "Miss Grant and I are time travellers. Jo here is from the future."

Jenny was silent for a few minutes, and Jo wondered if the girl was thinking of running away.

"All right, that sort of makes sense," shrugged Jenny. "Explains why you said you were pretty old, Doctor. And some of the other odd things you talk about."

Jo and the Doctor exchanged a glance. The girl was taking it well.

Almost too well. It worried both of them what else Jenny knew about. Especially as Jo recalled that the girl knew at least a little about time paradoxes. That wasn't usually part of the education of Victorian maids, as far as Jo had ever heard.

It was dark by the time they returned to the house, so the Doctor decided to wait until morning to examine their finds. Instead he handed the basket and sack over to Jenny, who locked them up safely in the coach house for the night.

Right after breakfast on Thursday, the Doctor collected a few instruments from Madame Vastra's laboratory, and then disappeared into the coach house. Jenny wasn't too happy about lending out Madame's prized (and as Jenny, who kept their records after all knew full well, very expensive) tools, but she could see the worry on the Doctor's face about bringing the stuff they'd found into the house.

Several hours later, he reappeared, still looking worried. "As I thought," he told Jo and Jenny, "that cloth is not from earth. There are elements in it that simply aren't found here. The remaining flesh on the bone isn't human, either. And there's also a high degree of radiation contamination on the cloth, the body part and the pod."

"Are we in danger?" Jo gave a worried glance at Jenny. Jo had been sick several times during their adventures together from various diseases and radiation poisoning, but always recovered. She suspected that the TARDIS had something to do with it. But the TARDIS wasn't here this time, and they had to protect Jenny as well.

"Not yet," said the Doctor. "Those insects died from a combination of both radiation contamination and exposure; they tried to consume the flesh of course, as part of the normal decomposition process, and it killed them. We've had minimal exposure though, and I intend to keep it that way."

"How?" asked Jo.

"Using a lead-lined box to contain the sample would be easiest. Jenny, where can we buy an old tea-chest around here? They're usually lined with lead foil. Not the healthiest food safety practice, but this time it works in our favour..."

Jenny gave him directions to their tea merchant, where they had an account and who she knew could deliver the chests if needed. Just before he left, Jenny asked if it was safe to have a lesson in the main part of the coach house on the ground floor, and the Doctor reassured them that they'd be fine, so long as they stayed away from the upper room where Jenny had left the sack and the basket.

On Thursday afternoon, Jo found a pair of sturdy brown corduroy trousers and a plain white cotton shirt laid out in her room. Jenny had let Jo know when the clothes arrived just before lunch and when Jo joked about the locals wondering if there was a small man in the house as well, Jenny had reassured her; apparently Madame Vastra's dressmaker was both quick and discrete. Jo grinned at the memory, and then changed and did a few stretches. The clothes were practical and comfortable, just the thing for practicing throwing one's weight around. Or someone else's weight, in this case.

Jo went down to the basement, and found Jenny, already changed, practicing with the locks. She glanced up as Jo entered, looked her over and nodded approvingly. "That looks good on you. Suit you, those do."

"I like skirts and dresses too, but for scrambling madly after the Doctor, nothing beats a trouser suit," grinned Jo. "Luck for me, they're in fashion by my time; most people don't even bat an eye."

Jenny led Jo out to the coach house, and opened the door to the main room, and while Jo looked around, Jenny opened up the shutters so they had more light.

"Oh, look at all the space!" gushed Jo. "It's perfect for a little gymnasium!"

There were several thick leather mats piled against the wall. Jenny dragged them into the centre of the room, and Jo could tell that although Jenny handled them well, the mats were very heavy. They reminded Jo of old ones she'd seen at school, and she knew they were likely stuffed with horsehair. Once Jenny had everything laid out, she took off her shoes and bounced a bit on the mats, settling them into place. Jo kicked off her shoes as well, and joined her on the mats.

They warmed up a little bit with some stretches. Then Jo determined that Jenny already knew how to fall safely on the hard mats, and some basics on unarmed fighting. And who taught her that, wondered Jo. Surely it wasn't the girl's mistress! She asked Jenny, who quickly assured her that Madame Vastra really was her teacher!

They reviewed a few basic moves first. And Jo made sure Jenny knew what the 'safe' word was. Sometimes in Jo's training, it had been a slap on the mat. In others, a verbal command was needed. Jo made sure Jenny knew both. Jenny said that when She and Madame Vastra practiced, 'Stop' was the word. They practiced for a bit, one or the other calling out the command, and then began the real lesson.

"All right, as soon as someone touches you or it's clear you can't get away, shout loudly, something like "Back Off!" and push back at him. That's to both signal for help and it lets the attacker know you're not an easy target," said Jo.

Jenny nodded. Madame Vastra had told her the same thing, and Jenny had done it herself as well. They practiced that a few times, with Jenny pushing Jo. Jo was quite ready for the shouting and pushing. What Jo wasn't ready for was how aggressive Jenny was, even in practice. When they'd spared a little bit during their warm-up, just shadow-boxing, Jo had noticed that Jenny seemed to have trouble pulling her punches as well.

"Jenny, this is just practice. I'd rather you not knock me out, please. It hurts, and it upsets the Doctor terribly."

"Sorry, miss. Use to rough-housing with the boys. Can't be gentle with them, they get the idea I'm weak and there'll be no end of trouble. And Madame Vastra's pretty thick-skinned as well. I'll be more mindful of it, promise."

Jo nodded in understanding.

"All right, now what's important to remember if someone grabs you, or you end up in a fight?" asked Jo.

Jenny grinned fiercely. "Don't stop. Keep hitting them. Even if you get loose, don't stop fighting." A wave of sadness passed over her face. "Da taught me that."

"Right," said Jo. "Keep attacking until your opponent is unable to fight back or threaten you in any way." She kept talking, trying to get Jenny past her funk. "The only thing worse than not defending yourself is defending yourself poorly or half-way." Jo smiled ruefully, "That's my problem; I don't have that instinct to attack. I'm a lover, not a fighter."

Jenny grinned back at her. "I'm a fighter," she said. "I'm still a bit young to be a lover, right?"

They spent a fun but exhausting hour reviewing some of the self-defence moves that Jo had learned in her UNIT training. Fun for Jenny that was, and exhausting for Jo. She hadn't realized how out of practice she was. Being with the Doctor mostly involved being able to sneak, hide and run very, very fast. Screaming was usually an option as well, although Jo was trying to get out of that habit; it never seemed to help very much. And honestly, she couldn't see Jenny as much of a screamer. The girl was so quiet!

Near the end of the lesson, Jenny asked Jo, "Can you show me that throw you used at St. Paul's? The one when the bloke grabbed you from behind and you tossed him like a dustman's sack?"

Jo laughed. "The Shoulder Knee Throw? Alright, but let's take it gently. I don't want either of us getting hurt!" Jenny nodded happily.

"Now, a stranglehold attack from behind would certainly take you by surprise," said Jo. "But keep as calm as possible and you should have no difficulty getting out of it."

Jo slipped behind Jenny, and slid her arm around Jenny's neck and grabbed her shoulder, while grabbing the back of Jenny's collar with her other hand. Jenny blinked, surprised at both the grip, and the warmth of Jo's body pressing against her. She swallowed nervously, but tried to pay attention.

"Lean backwards on to the attacker, grasping his sleeve with your right hand. At the same time grasp his wrist with your left hand."

Jenny grabbed Jo's wrist and her sleeve. "A bit higher Jenny," said Jo, "You want a bit more leverage for this. And don't be afraid to lean back, you want to knock your attacker off balance." Jenny nodded and changed her grip, leaning back against Jo.

"Slide your right leg firmly back against his right leg, at the same time dropping your right knee to the ground. As you drop, pull his right arm sharply down over you; thrust your hips back hard as you can against over his right leg, and continue throwing your body forward as you pull his arm down, hard."

Jenny pulled and dropped, and Jo Grant went sailing over her shoulder. Jo, experienced in being tossed around like a sack of potatoes by her much larger trainers, kept her body relaxed, and slapped the mat with her hands and forearms to absorb her momentum.

"This will completely break his balance, and throw him heavily to the ground, at which point you are free to run for it, or stay and face him, depending how far you've progressed with your training," concluded Jo, as she bounced up to face Jenny.

"But really, the best advice I can give is for you to not get into a fight in the first place," Jo reminded Jenny as they finished up the lesson for the day.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" asked Jenny with a wicked grin.

They walked back to the main house, and Jo settled at the kitchen table while Jenny put the kettle on the stove. Jenny bustled around getting a tea pot and cup for Jo, and her own battered tin mug. At last she sat and eyed Jo thoughtfully, then cocked her head. "So the two of you travel back and forth in time?" asked Jenny. "Is that what the TARDIS does?"

"Yes and it travels in space as well," said Jo. "The Doctor, well, he was stranded in one place for a while by his people. That's how I met him; he works with UNIT as a Scientific Advisor, and I'm his assistant. His people damaged the TARDIS so he couldn't leave. But from time to time, they needed his help, so they'd repair it and let him loose, but they'd always exile him back to my time again afterwards. Then after a few years of this, they had a really big problem, and they had to get the Doctor to fix it. All three of him. I helped a little bit too. After that, they gave him the piece he needed to fix the TARDIS and let him go. We've been travelling since then.

"All three of him?"

"It's a bit complicated…"

Jenny gave her gently sceptical look that clearly said she thought Jo was pulling her leg. Jo did her best to look innocent. She wasn't sure though if Jenny believed her or not.

Jenny stood, ready to go change back to her usual clothes. She regarded Jo for a long moment and then said uncertainly "Ah, Miss, I have lessons tomorrow morning, you remember?"

Jo nodded. "You certainly do like learning new things, don't you?"

Jenny shrugged. "Depends on the lesson. The locks and the fighting, that's really interesting. Lessons on religion and morals, like what we had in school, maybe not so much. Hard to take that very serious when the young ones are hungry and Ma and Da are looking worried, or worse."

Jo grimaced in sympathy and nodded. Jenny had barely mentioned her family before now. Was this why? Had she left home so there was one less mouth to feed?

"Anyway, reason I'm asking is,"Jenny continued, "do you maybe want me to ask tomorrow if you can come too next week? My teachers' club be a bit funny about having women around, but Mr Parker and Mr Taylor are pretty good sorts. If you're interested, I can maybe sneak you in?"

"Why are they 'a bit funny' about women? You said you were having lessons with Mr Parker. But if you're not having riding lessons, what are you learning?"

"Shooting, miss. How to use a rifle. Been told not to call it a gun. Mr Taylor, he's my other teacher, he says we're not learning to shoot cannon, blast it!" Jenny grinned at the joke. "He's an American, so he talks a little strange, but he's pretty nice most of the time. I think he spooks Madame a bit though. Don't know why." Jenny shrugged. "He's the one who started teaching Madame and me, but Madame wants Mr Parker or one of the other Greenjackets there as well. To keep an eye on things, I guess."

"The owner of a cab livery company is teaching you riflery?" Jo asked, surprised.

Jenny nodded. "Mr Parker and Mr Taylor and their friends, they all use to be soldiers, you see. Special soldiers, called sharpshooters. They're all really good shots! And they say I'm pretty good too."

'Good Grief!' thought Jo. 'She's being trained by a group of former snipers! If they're willing to teach a young girl, she must be rather better than "pretty good!"'

But all Jo said was, "Do you enjoy those lessons?"

"To be honest, I like learning to shoot even though it makes my ears ring, but I like close up fighting better. Makes me feel... more alive somehow."

"Well, even if they are skittish about teaching me," said Jo, "I'd certainly like to at least watch you practice, and perhaps meet your other teacher." 'And make sure these men aren't setting you up to take advantage of you later,' thought Jo.

Jenny nodded happily. She was pretty sure she could arrange that much a least.

Mr Dawes was a man considered to be a natural leader amongst the business elite of the City of London. Despite his acknowledged position of power though, he felt a great deal of trepidation as he approached the Guildhall for the new Lord Mayor's first official Dinner and Ball since his swearing in on the previous Saturday. Although primarily a business function, Dawes knew full well that the Prince of Wales, who took a practical view of the world of commerce, and consulted some of the finer financial minds of the time on his business affairs, was going to visit later in the evening.

Dawes was dreading it. He had no wish to repeat the humiliation of their previous meeting, especially in front of witnesses who were far more likely to remember it that the general populace on an early Saturday morning. But his discreet enquiries had turned up nothing to explain the Prince's behaviour.

Seated with his fellows, Mr Dawes ate the magnificent dinner, and drank the expensive wine, and they tasted like ashes in his mouth.

The buzz in the Guildhall increased when the Prince arrived. Dawes knew he only had a few minutes grace before he was noticed. As the Prince drew closer and closer, Dawes felt his stomach drop, but he kept his stiff upper lip firmly in place, ready to deal with whatever insults he had to endure.

Inevitably, he was spotted. Dawes took a steadying breath, trying to keep his heart from racing.

"Ah Dawes!" The Prince exclaimed, striding towards him. "Good to see you again!"

Dawes felt faint, but held on manfully. Apparently, he needn't have worried. He was confused as all blazes, of course, but it seemed as if for this evening at least, his honor was going to survive intact.

And for the rest of the evening, the Prince acted as if the incident had never happened.

Later that evening, Dawes overheard a startling conversation:

"Your Highness," asked one of the men surrounding the Prince, "How's the game been this fall?"

"Excellent, replied the Prince. "I've been out of town for most of the week, of course. Caught the Lord Mayor's show on the ninth, and celebrated my Fortieth with a few friends, then went to Sandringham for a long weekend with some people. Had several very good days of shooting!" The prince, a noted sportsman, beamed happily.

Dawes felt stunned. Why was the Prince lying about where he'd been. Perhaps he'd given Dawes a cut so that he wouldn't speak about seeing him in London when he claimed to be at his country house.

But why lie? What was the Prince of Wales attempting to hide? Another one of his many affairs? Or was it something more sinister?

On Friday morning, Jenny took the shopping list and made her rounds, placing her orders for food for the next few days. Lots of bacon and eggs, of course, those kept well, Jenny thought, and they made a good breakfast. More vegetables, especially root vegetables, than usual. They'd keep well, and both the Doctor and Miss Grant liked to eat them, and weren't too fussy about what was served to them. Jenny had found a slim cookbook in the kitchen ages ago and was now trying out some of the soups, which they found pretty tasty. O'course, ordering more greens brought its own troubles…

Mrs Crawford, the grocer, took Jenny's list, read it through, and then raised her eyes and looked over it at Jenny. "The guests are still at the house then?" she asked. "They seem to be settling in for a long stay. When's Madame Vastra coming back?"

Jenny scowled and looked down. "Hell if I know, she ain't said," she muttered, then looked up stricken. "Sorry, Mrs. C! I just... she's didn't…" Jenny sighed. "She's got a pretty big case out in Egypt, and I'm scared she'll miss something important, and get into trouble if I'm not there to help her out."

"Really?" drawled Mrs. Crawford. Jenny had been moping around since Madame Vastra left. And of course, she'd been left with that strange Doctor Garrett. A woman doctor indeed! What self-respecting person had ever heard of such a thing!

And now these strangers. Mrs Brown had looked them over when they visited The Gin Palace, and said that they seemed nice enough, and Mrs. Crawford's own boy George delivered a regular order every few days, and then reported back to his mother, but still it all seemed very havey-cavey to her.

Jenny sighed. "Sure. Keep Madame fed, don't I, on stuff that's good fer her and won't get her in trouble. And I keep her notes, and tell her about people. She's not real good with people, you see. Mind you, she's gettin' better."

Mrs Crawford simply raised an eyebrow. Vastra had been a complete recluse for the few months she'd lived in the area before Jenny arrived. The young girl then pretty well took over Vastra's small household. And while the woman was now the mysterious widow of Paternoster Row, at least she had a title, a place in the pecking order, and a young maid of all work to keep her life, well, at least something resembling organized. Mrs Crawford, and several of the local merchants, had become rather fond of Jenny, and by extension her reclusive mistress. They were (usually) polite, paid their bills promptly, and if a hint or two was dropped to Jenny or her shrouded lady, the most dangerous of the local human trash tended to miraculously disappear.

Still, strangers who took advantage were not to be coddled. Mrs Crawford probed what Jenny thought about her long-term tenants with a slight sneer, "Guests and fish stink after…"

But Jenny shook her head. "No, it's all right. Madame Vastra knows they're here, and sent them a note when she wrote me back. The young miss ain't bad, she's even offered to help with the chores. Told her 'no' of course, but Madame asked her to help me with some lessons on things like how to lay out the plates proper and such." Jenny knew not to mention the other, far more interesting, lessons that Miss Jo was teaching her now.

Mrs. Crawford made a vaguely disapproving noise. "Fine then. I don't mind the business of course, but strangers are never good news."

Jenny grinned at her. "Madame and me are still pretty new round here. Ain't we strangers too?"

Mrs Crawford tried to look stern. "Good customers are never strangers for long." It didn't last, as Mrs Crawford slid into a half-smile. "One either learns to overlook all their little quirks, or at some point, if they remain a little strange, they become that wonderful British Institution, an Eccentric."

Jenny laughed out loud. "Need to be flush to be 'centric. Guess that's Madame though, right enough! A wealthy 'centric widow!"

'And her feisty little cockney maid,' thought Mrs Crawford, with a fond smile at Jenny. Certainly the two are quite the pair! And they certainly provided a wonderful supply for friendly gossip and speculation with their growing reputation for madcap adventures amongst the locals who were 'in the Know.'

Her visit with Mrs Crawford cheered Jenny up, and she was in a better mood as she approached the house on Paternoster Row. She was almost to the area steps down to the kitchen, when she was hailed by a loud voice. "Jenny Flint!" She glanced across the street and just groaned.

Constable Lestrade was striding towards her. "What are you up to, you little devil?" he demanded.

"Shopping," said Jenny shortly. "Got to feed the guests, now don't I?"

"So they are still here!" sneered Lestrade, looming over Jenny. "I saw that brat Wiggins mucking around near the tracks yesterday, and you and your 'guests' were with him! Any more wild stories? More killer pigs or falling stars?"

Jenny stood her ground, trying hard to hang on to her temper. This arse was almost as bad as the former Inspector Peaslin, but he had pull in the area, and could make her life miserable if he wanted to. "Ask 'em yerself, if you want. You know I won't blab about Madame's guests!"

"Maybe I'll do just…"

"Constable Lestrade, isn't it?" broke in a new voice. Posh, female and extremely annoyed.

Lestrade straightened up. Jenny glanced over her shoulder to see Miss Jo standing at the top of the front steps, wrapped in her nice warm cloak, glaring at the constable and looking for all the world like a beautiful avenging angel.

Jo Grant had spent the last several years of her life around soldiers. She'd seen how Sergeant Benton kept discipline with his men, and how the Brigadier had kept discipline over officers and men alike. She didn't always like it, and she didn't always agree with the methods, but she'd learned a great deal from watching them.

And a Victorian policeman with a tendency to bully young girls was NOT going to be tolerated. Not on her watch!

"Jenny," Jo addressed the girl, glancing at her for a moment, and then settling her eyes back on the bobby. "Go to the kitchen. We have lessons soon."

Jenny scampered down the front area steps to the basement entrance. Jo kept her eyes on the constable, as she heard the door open and shut again.

"Lessons?" asked Lestrade, who though deprived of his quarry, tried to regain control of the encounter. "Sewing and cooking and girl stuff?" he asked with a slight sneer.

Jo held his eyes calmly and waited, looking down at him. The man was tall, but the stairs put Jo, small as she was, just above his eye level. She simply stared him down, drawing on the dignity that she'd needed to pass as The Princess of Tardis. Only women of royalty were allowed in the throne room on the distant world of Peladon, so it was a case of 'carry it off or die.' She'd carried it off so well, the young King had proposed marriage. She'd turned him down, of course. A lie was never a good foundation for a relationship.

Constable Lestrade never had a chance at winning this battle of wills against this particular young woman of the 'Quality', as Jo calmly waited for him to catch on and address her properly. "Ah, Lessons, Miss?" he finally asked, a tad more respectfully.

"Advanced lessons in etiquette befitting a household such as this, of course, since Jenny has a decent grounding in basic manners..." Jo paused and left, 'unlike you' hanging in the air as she eyed the man for a beat. "Among other more … advanced… subjects," Jo continued. "Jenny is young, and she will benefit from a little polish, but her heart is good. There's certainly no reason for you behaving like such a great ogre!"

"She's got a bunch of the young toughs round here dancin' to her tune…"

"Yes, I've seen that several of the young men are earning honest money by running errands on Jenny's instructions, and helping in Doctor's investigation. A case that you yourself are both aware of and demanded to be included it. So, what have you heard since we last spoke?" Jo shifted the subject and used Lestrade's insistence in being in on the case to deflect him.

Lestrade blustered and muttered about 'official business' until Jo cut him off.

"I certainly don't want to waste your time if you are not interested in the case, and the others certainly won't tolerate the presence of someone who is actively undermining the investigation. So you need to decide where you stand."

"Now, as it happens," Jo continued, "The Doctor has an update for Inspector Abernathy and Constable Palmer, and it's related to what Wiggins discovered the other day. Do you want to be here for that discussion? Because if so you need to behave in a civil manner to Jenny. She is responsible for this household while Madame Vastra is away, and you should be making sure she can do that."

Lestrade flushed, but the young woman wasn't shouting or making a scene, just being firm with him. "Think it would be best if I know what's happening on my beat, miss."

"Fine then. I'll speak with the Doctor to make sure you're included when we meet. However, from now on, you will speak politely to Jenny because she works in a respectable household, and deserves to be treated with respect herself."

Jo Grant fixed Constable Lestrade with a stern gaze. "You need to protect this house, just as you protect your entire beat. If Jenny's boys commit a crime, of course you must arrest them. That's quite reasonable. But this habit of assuming that they are up to no good, and that Jenny is somehow involved, smacks of either obsession or jealousy."

"You're a decent man, I believe. I can tell that you take your work seriously; but you need to focus less on a few children, and more on incidents that require the skills and training of a professional police officer. "

Lestrade flushed again, but nodded stiffly.

"Constable Lestrade, I expect that this will be the last occasion when anyone needs to speak with you about how a City of London policeman should interact with any young servant of a household on his beat. Agreed?" Jo still didn't break eye contact. Lestrade squirmed a little, but nodded.

"Then carry on, Constable," Jo said at her most regal. Lestrade, thoroughly chastised by this slip of a woman, and then built back up to the right attitude, touched his helmet, and departed.

Jo Grant watched the constable walk down the street at a brisk pace while trying to conceal his retreat. She turned and walked calmly back to the half-open doorway, then stopped, and without looking said in a carrying voice.

"Jenny! Show's over! Inside, Now!" and she stepped back into the house and closed the front door.

From her hiding place under the stairs, Jenny started in surprise, and dove for the kitchen door, impressed. Miss Grant had just known that she was there, she hadn't even turned around! Now that was really brilliant!

And the Doctor, unnoticed by all in the shadows as he watched the entire scene though the library window, hurried back to the desk where he'd been reading, and tried to look casual.

Jo Grant swept in, followed by Jenny carrying a tray of biscuits, and a teapot.

"Thought you might like some tea before lessons, Miss Jo, Doctor," Jenny addressed them both.

Jo nodded. "Thank you, Jenny."

The Doctor and Jenny Flint gazed at her in fascination, as Jo Grant calmly seated herself, picked up a cup of tea and took an elegant sip, and after gazing back at the pair of them regally for a moment, broke down in a fit of laughter. "Goodness, I can't believe that really worked!" said Jo.

Both the Doctor and Jenny Flint were united in the same thought: Josephine Grant really was a wonderful young woman!

And, Jenny decided again, Miss Grant was awfully pretty too!

On Saturday, Wiggins whistled happily as he walked along on his way to the Police Station on Old Jewry near the Bank of England. He carried a note from The Doctor, and enough coins that he could take an omnibus over to Scotland Yard to deliver one to Inspector Abernathy as well. And Jenny promised a hot dinner if he came and answered any questions the men asked when they met that afternoon. And he'd still be paid too! Wiggins liked his freedom, but he had to admit, having a honest source of a few pence here and there made things lots easier for him.

He gave the note to Constable Palmer, who read it, and simply said, "Yes, I'll be there." Wiggins nodded, and headed out for his stop. He was trying to choose if he should take the omnibus and save his shoes, or walk and save the pennies, when he saw a man leaning against a nearby street-lamp. For some reason, the man raised Wiggins' street-wise hackles.

Wiggins frowned but kept walking. Wiggins was good with faces; that was one reason why he was useful to Jenny's mistress. And he was clever in his ways; he'd learned over his short life not to attract too much attention. So he turned away, walking slowly, but kept thinking. The man looked familiar, and not in a good way. One of the bully boys from the area? No, too well dressed for that. Had he pinched something from the man when he was younger? No, he didn't think that was it…. One of the shop owners…?

And then Wiggins placed him. He was one of the men from the cart that had taken the pods. The one who had offered up the beer to the workers.

What was he doing around here? He seemed to be just hanging about….

As if he was waiting for someone. Or watching for someone.

Someone at the Police Station? Or for someone to visit the police?

Wiggins didn't feel good all of a sudden. Jenny often came by here to visit the Bank or see Constable Palmer, maybe they were looking for her? Of maybe for Miss Jo? They hadn't seen Jenny, he was pretty sure, and even if they had, they'd just think she was a maid. But they'd seen Miss Jo. And they'd seen him too, come to think on it.

Wiggins stopped at a nearby shop window and pretended to admire the display, while glancing back at the leaning man. After a minute or so, a second man joined him, handed him a steaming mug, and started to sip one himself. There must be a tea or coffee seller nearby, Wiggins thought. He cocked his head, and listened carefully. Old Jewry was fairly quiet, so he could hear snatches of what the men were saying.

"You've been at this off and on for over a week now, and no sign of them. Give it up."

"You might be right. But that Bobby's the only lead we have to those snoopers."

They were watching Constable Palmer! Even though he was a blue bottle, he was friends with Jenny so Wiggins decided there and then that he didn't like these blokes. He wandered a little more down the street, and then turned casually into one of the many back lanes that made London interesting to get around. Another turn or two, and he came up on the big street that connected the police station to the rear entrance to the Bank of England. And sure enough, there was a tea seller with her handcart and its barrel brazier. She eyed him with suspicion, but he held up a ha'penny and looked hopeful, and she handed him a chipped mug half full of warm tea in exchange. He made sure not to wander off with the cup, but leaned against the wall near her cart. Right around the corner from the two men, where he could hear them, but they couldn't see him. Jenny'd taught him that trick, and it was a good one.

"Do we take care of the Policeman?" One of them asked. "The busybodies never found anything, and the dockers shut their mouths quick enough. Marvelous how well the threat of a hungry winter works, especially if they've got a parcel of brats." Both men chuckled. Wiggins scowled. Buggers! Laughin' 'bout a thing like that!

"As for the Bobby, maybe we do, maybe we don't," the other one replied. "I don't think he knows about the goods. If he doesn't, we'll let him be. No use arousing suspicion if he thinks those two are just a couple of cranks."

Wiggins finished his tea, returned the mug, and took a back route to The Mansion House Underground station. He could warn Palmer at the meeting about the men. But he wanted to get his second note delivered fast, hang the expense, and then get get back to Paternoster Row and warn Jenny that her guests were being hunted.

Late in the afternoon, three police officers, the Doctor, Jo Grant, and Jenny assembled in Madame Vastra's Drawing Room. There was plenty of tea and a plate of sandwiches (good hearty ones, Jo was amused to see, none of your dainty quartered tea sandwiches for these people.) Everyone had their notebooks out; Police and Jenny alike. The Doctor brought them up to date: their search at the docks which had been cut short; his analysis of the memory potion; which was inconclusive, and Wiggins finding a piece of the pod and the alien body part. And how it was now contained.

Wiggins had arrived just minutes before the men, out of breath from running, but he managed to wheeze out that he had something important to tell Constable Palmer and Jenny during the meeting. He was in the kitchen; like Tom he wasn't very comfortable in the main part of the house, so Jenny'd left him with a nice big sandwich and a mug of tea and let him catch his breath.

The police could add little the information they'd discovered so far. Abernathy apologized for his distraction from the case; the Disraeli imposter had been spotted a few more time, nothing serious yet, but he'd been seen around Whitehall, and again at the palace of Westminster, and Abernathy was run ragged trying to find out what was going on. Palmer had kept his ears and eyes opened, but it was fairly quiet in the area that encompassed his beat. Lestrade added that there had been no additional action around the railway tracks, except for Wiggins' explorations, and their retrieval of the pod piece.

Constable Lestrade behaved himself, and simply took notes. He didn't argue, and he managed to not pick a fight with Jenny. Jo Grant was rather please that he'd listened to her.

But overall the update was rather frustrating. There was no sign of the alien, and they still weren't sure what the other men from the pods even looked like. Unless Tom or the match girls turned up something more from the Docks, they were at a standstill.

Then Jenny remembered that Wiggins had something important to tell Palmer. So she fetched him up from the kitchen.

Wiggins then proceeded to kick their standstill investigation back into high gear, with his announcement of the two men looking for 'a couple of cranks,' and trailing Palmer to find them.

"Being stalked like a tooler's mark, am I?" growled Constable Palmer. "Wait till I get my hands on those two!"

Arrangements were quickly made for Wiggins to identify the two men to Palmer. Jenny listened, and simply made note of when the others would meet. She needed to go up to the bank next week anyway; both to see Mr Thackeray and to withdraw some extra funds to cover her guests expenses. She wouldn't mind getting a good look at these two fellows herself.

After the others left, Jenny went down to make supper, and then finished up her letter to Madame Vastra.

November 19, 1881

We've had some good luck and some bad trying to find the missing pods. Tom, Tucker and the match girls was able to dig up some chatter about strange goings on at the West India Docks out by Greenwich, and was trying to chase it down. But the Doctor sort of scuttled things by showing up in his fancy clothes and poking around. He must a'been spotted by some cove who could put a squeeze on the dockers, Now Tom says no one's talking much at all.

Jenny went on to write about Wiggins finding the piece of a pod and the unsettling but useful discovery of the body part. She also thought Madame might be interested in the Doctor's notes from the beer samples, so she added those as well. She'd copied the notes carefully into her notebook a few evenings after the Doctor had done his tests. It was only fair; he wrote them on her old schoolroom slate!

Jenny told Madame Vastra about the lessons with Miss Grant, and Jo's rebuke of Constable Lestrade in Jenny's defence as well. Then she folded up the thin paper, and tucked it into an envelope. Jenny addressed it and then frowned, weighing the thick letter a little in her hand. She shrugged and put an extra stamp on it for the trip.

And then ran to catch the last mail pick-up of the day. Jenny was worried she'd miss it, but the bouncing postman was there just as she arrived, and she turned the letter over to him with a sigh of relief. And the postage must be right, because he only said, "Making sure it gets there eh? Don't you worry, it'll be there quick as a wink."

On Sunday it was pouring rain when Jo Grant came downstairs. Jenny had obviously been up for a while, and there was a fine breakfast waiting in the Dining Room. As she ate, Jo glanced out the window, watching the water teaming down the panes, and made an off-hand comment about going to church, just for something to do.

Jenny's head whipped around, and Jo could see the anger in the girl's eyes. "I don't think…" Jenny started, and then stopped short and drew a breath. "Sorry, Miss Jo, that was really rude o' me. I'll get your cloak and me coat when you're done."

Jo suddenly remembered that Jenny had been weeping during church the previous Sunday. No way was she going to drag the poor girl out in weather like this to something that upset her just because Jo was bored.

"Jenny, it's fine! I'm not a big church goer myself. It's not important, just something to do. We can spend the day reading and practicing with the locks instead. Honest!"

Jenny looked Jo for a long moment and then nodded. "I think there's a game of dominos around somewhere," she murmured, ashamed of herself for snapping at Madame's guest. "Maybe we can have a go at that as well."

Jo Grant soon realized why the Victorian middle class loved music and games so much: there was, to Jo's mind at least, simply nothing much else to do in one's spare time. No television, no radio, no cinema, no records. There are plays and lectures, of course, Jo knew. But many people worked until late at night just to feed themselves the next morning. Jenny, for instance, was always working on something around the house, cooking or cleaning or making sure the rooms had coal and kindling for their fires.

Still, it would be nice to do something different. Jo wondered if perhaps she could talk the Doctor into seeing a play some evening. They'd take Jenny too, of course!

Later that morning the Doctor approached his bedroom to fetch a book he'd forgotten, when he heard a rustling noise. He peeked around the corner to find Jenny bundling up the sheets on his bed. Fresh sheets lay ready on the chair nearby. As Jenny picked up the the first one, the Doctor walked into the room and said, "Let me help you with that." Although Jenny protested, the Doctor gently took the sheet, and with a snap and wave of his two long arms, sent the sheet billowing up and over the bed, letting it spread itself smoothly. After that, it was just a matter of tugging it around a little and neatly folding the corners.

Jenny tried, but she mostly crammed the corners under the mattress. "I was showed when we were at an inn last summer how to do proper corners, but I got out of practice after Madame left," she explained sheepishly.

The Doctor chuckled and called out, "Jo!" When she appeared he asked, "Do you know how to do that hospital tuck thing with bed sheets?"

Jo nodded and showed Jenny, who paid attention, happy to relearn the forgotten knack. The Doctor stood ready with the second sheet. When the bottom sheet was all tucked in neatly, he repeated the trick of billowing the sheet and after it too was tucked in he added the blanket and the bed was quickly and neatly made. "It's the height," he told Jenny, "it lets the sheet spread out nicely, as you saw. I can be useful for something, right?"

"Goodness, Jenny, do you wash all these sheets by yourself?" Jo asked, looking at the pile, and mentally adding in her own and Jenny's.

"No miss. Madame said it's a waste of my time, so I only do laundry once a month or so to keep my hand in. We have a laundry woman do the rest; she's the widow of one of Mr Parker's drivers what died in an accident last year. She takes in washing to get by. Works out well for both of us; she gets decent work, and I get more time to work on Madame's cases, or work on my lessons. I'll send them over to her tomorrow."

Jenny bundled up the sheets carried the used sheets to the back stairs. There she opened a panel in the central shaft. Inside was an enclosed shelf with a pair of ropes running up one side inside the open shaft.

"Oh, it's a dumb-waiter!" said Jo. "I haven't seen one of those in years!"

The Doctor examined the small lift, as Jenny put the sheets into a basket, and then using the rope pulls at the side, she lowered it down to the basement. There were other sheets already in the basket and the Doctor guessed that Jenny had already changed her sheets and Jo's as well.

"That's handy," said Jo approvingly. "Saves you carrying everything up and down the stairs."

"It's good for the sheets and light stuff," said Jenny. "Not as much for the coal and the water. They're too heavy and it's hard for me to control the ropes. I'm getting better though as I get stronger."

"It's not counterweighted enough," said the Doctor as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "and I think I'll have a look at how the brake tackles works. See if I can improve it a bit."

"Doctor that's' awful kind but…."

"Let him have a look Jenny," advised Jo. "He's very good with things like this. and he'll make sure he puts it back together properly, won't he." She said to the Doctor sternly.

The Doctor nodded absently, his head already half in the shaft as he looked it over. He even pulled out his light cylinder and shone it up and down the ropes.

"What is that, anyway?" asked Jenny.

"An electric torch," said Jo.

"Never seen something like that. Usually if the lift's jammed up I need to use candle or a lamp to see anything."

"Well, it's at least twenty year early for now," said the Doctor. "It is very handy though."

Jenny shook her head, and left the Doctor muttering to himself, while she went to make sure the water pitchers were full.

The Monday morning post brought a letter for Jenny. She read it and then went to find the Doctor and Jo.

"Doctor Garrett-Anderson's back from Edinburgh," Jenny told them. "She's going to drop by at tea-time to meet you." It was clear from Jenny's grin that refusal simply was not an option.

Jo nodded. Jenny had told her a bit about Doctor Garrett during their daily lessons. Before the Doctor and Jo wandered into her life on Guy Fawkes Night, and while Madame Vastra was away, Jenny spent the previous few weeks studying with Doctor Garrett. Jenny said they'd met the lady doctor and her husband on pretty bad evening in July when they'd found a dying girl, and Jenny and Doctor Garrett had tried to help her, but the girl had died anyway. Jo was pretty sure Jenny had left out most of that story. But the upshot was that Doctor Garrett had stayed in touch with the Paternoster household.

Jenny shrugged. "Likely Doctor Garrett wants to make sure I'm treating you proper as well. She knows I'm still pretty new at this sort of thing. Madame's not too fussy, but guests are something else again. I'd best take care of the sheets and then make sure the house is ready." She bustled off, muttering a list of chores to herself.

"We're going to be inspected, Jo," the Doctor said with a smile. "See if we pass muster and that Jenny's safe with us."

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" Jo asked as she started to straighten up the newspapers in the library. "We've been here two weeks already."

"No time like the present," chuckled the Doctor, as he gave his long chin a tug, and then started re-shelving some of the scattered books as well.

While she bundled up the sheets to go to the laundry, and inventoried the kitchen for what she could serve for tea, Jenny mulled over Dr Garrett-Anderson and her husband and their curious friendship with Jenny and Vastra.

When Jenny and Madame Vastra finally visited Doctor Garrett in August, shortly after they moved into Paternoster Row, she'd asked if Jenny was interested in learning medicine. The woman was impressed with how steady Jenny was when handling the woman who'd been attacked, and thought she'd would make a good nurse, or perhaps even a doctor if she could obtain the right education.

Jenny wasn't sure she wanted to do that. She had too many bad memories of those last few days when her brother and sister were sick, and those last terrible and bloody hours with her Ma. She knew she'd be alright helping out and patching someone up right enough, and even taking care of them. But if she had to do it for a living, she thought she'd likely go mad. Jenny considered herself pretty tough, but it took a different kind of toughness to look after the sick and dying every day. Especially to do it without losing all feeling.

But when Madame Vastra was asked to go overseas by the government, and Jenny had to stay behind, Madame thought it was a good chance for Jenny to learn more medical skills, even if it was only enough to patch themselves up in an emergency. It occurred to Jenny at that moment that if Madame was ever hurt, she couldn't simply call a local doctor; they'd have no idea what to do. And she doubted that Madame would be pleased if she called a zookeeper instead.

So while Madame Vastra was away, Jenny stayed at the Anderson household during the week, and returned home on Saturday and Sunday to make sure the house was kept up properly. It wasn't bad for Jenny. The family had two children, Louisa and Alan, who were eight and six, and they decided that Jenny was their new big sister. That was a bit fun, but it still made Jenny feel lonely sometimes, knowing that she'd never see her own family again. Least not the ones who she knew had always loved her, and had never put her life in danger for a drink.

And Doctor Garrett made sure she learned other things too. One of Doctor Garrett grumbles about her own education when she was young was the lack of science and maths instruction, both from her governess and later from the boarding school she attended. Jenny found that there were all sorts of science and business books in the Garrett-Anderson household, and she was encouraged to ask questions and 'make full use' of her time with them. Dr Garrett's books, naturally, tended to focus on medicine and biology, and Mr Anderson's on business, and Jenny found them interesting, but she really liked to get her hands on anything that was about machinery even more. Lucky for her Mr Anderson also had a few books on steamships and steam engines, so Jenny read those as well. She'd always like working with tools, and machines didn't have a tendency to die if you did something wrong.

The thing she really liked about Dr Garrett though was that she had the same sort of velvet steeliness that Madame Vastra had. Neither of them put up with much nonsense from people, and tended to do things despite what others thought, especially clueless people who couldn't tell a hamstring from a ham-hock.

And now Dr Garrett was going to meet the Doctor and Miss Grant. Jenny grinned to herself, wondering what her various eccentric teachers would think of each other. This was going to be quite the show.

The Andersons arrived just as the clock struck four o'clock, in a large, well-maintained carriage. Jenny opened the front door as soon as they knocked, and executed a little bob-curtsey. Jo and the Doctor welcomed them politely, and the four adults adjourned to the front drawing room on the first floor, while Jenny nipped down to the kitchen to fetch the tea.

Jo soon felt a bit overwhelmed. Dr Elizabeth Garrett-Anderson and her husband James George Skelton Anderson were both well-mannered, well-born and fiercely intelligent. And of course they were very curious as to how the Doctor, and by extension Jo herself, knew Madame Vastra.

Jo was able to be quite honest with them; she'd never met her absent hostess, and was most delighted and impressed with the wonderful hospitality they'd enjoyed, and all the help and care Jenny had given them. Her honesty earned her high marks in the eyes of the Andersons.

The Doctor, however, came in for sharper questioning. Jo was impressed by his ability to stick to the 'old friends' line, and reach new heights of 'vague' about the specifics of their relationship. The Andersons were surprised to learn that it was Jenny who'd insisted on taking them in, as opposed to their asking for shelter. Standing near the door, ready to respond to any instructions from the adults, Jenny explained that she had standing 'orders' from Madame Vastra to assist the Doctor in any way that she could, and Madame herself had praised her for remembering her instructions.

As Doctor Garrett tried to pin down which medical school the Doctor graduated from, they started discussing current medicine. Listening to them, Jo found it hard not to blurt out things that she shouldn't know about. Such as penicillin, anaesthetic, or even aspirin! It was daunting to Jo to realize that the standard first aid training that all UNIT agents received through St. John's Ambulance put her almost on par with some of the medical professionals of the nineteenth century. Some of them didn't even believe in germs or the vaccine against smallpox! Dr Garrett, however, seemed to be a more modern sort of doctor.

Out of desperation, Jo turned to Mr. Anderson, and managed to get him talking about his beloved shipping line, the Orient Steamship Company, which had the mail route to Alexandria, Egypt. Although he was a partner in the firm, Mr Anderson was full of praise for the firm's managing director, Thomas Sutherland. To Jo's fascination, the company was also making runs to Australia, and their new ship, The Orient, could make the trip to Adelaide in just less than forty days! Jo didn't have the heart to tell him that by her time, London to Sydney only took about 40 hours!

Part way through the conversation, Jo heard the Doctor asked Dr Garrett if she would examine 'the bone and tissue sample' they found, as he'd 'would very much like to hear her opinion on it.'

Dr Garrett simply shook her head as she demurred. '"Doctor, with all due respect, I'm an obstetrician, not a coroner! I don't think I could be of much help to you at all."

That evening, as the temperature dropped again, and fires were lit, a 'London Particular' started to cloak the city. More London smog than London fog, the smoke of hundreds and thousands of coal fires, collected in the breezeless air. And in the slowly gathering shadows there was new trouble.

At the gates to Buckingham Palace, the watchful guardsmen on duty were surprised by a man appearing out of the drifting shadows.

"Who goes there?" challenged the lance corporal.

The man strode forward into the dim light of the watch lanterns on the sentry boxes.

"I demand to enter. I am the Prime Minister…"

But the regiments of the Guard had been warned to be on the lookout. They'd not been told exactly what to watch for, but there had been rumours of ghosts. This however, was a pretty solid looking ghost.

"Call out the Guard!" sang out the lance corporal, as he and his partner leveled their rifles at the intruder.

"Obey me. I am the Prime Minister…"

Or if not a ghost, then more likely...

"Mr Gladstone's the Prime Minister. You're an imposter," snarled the second guardsman.

"I am Benjamin Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield, The Prime..."

"He's dead you fool, and if you move, you will be too."

Both Guardsmen covered him, but the imposter began to advance towards the gate.

The Guardsmen aimed their weapons, but the man raised his hand and what seemed like a bolt of lightning flashed out and struck the lance corporal. He dropped to the ground, his eyes wide and staring, with a smoking hole in his body. The second guardsman let out a shout of rage, and fired at the murderer. He saw him stagger but not fall, and quickly worked the bolt of his rifle to reload, knowing that his death could come at any moment.

But then a large patrol of Guardsmen arrived and leveled their rifles at the intruder. There was a guttural shout from the shadows outside the palace gate; words that made no sense and didn't sound human, but the intruder immediately turned and fled in a strangely stiff manner. But still far faster than any of the Guards had ever seen a man run before.

"I hit him," muttered the shaken Guard, still standing by the lance corporal's body. "I swear I saw it strike the devil in the chest!"

The lieutenant in command looked around, and as one of the others knelt by the dead man reaching out to close his eyes, he snapped, "Don't touch him! The police will need to see the body."

Ignoring the murmurs of "Sir?" around him, the lieutenant barked out more orders. "Corporal, send a runner to Scotland Yard, I want one of their inspectors here now! You two, get Williams inside," the officer pointed to the second Guardsman, who'd just seen the lance-corporal murdered. "The police will want to interview him no doubt, and find out what happened," he finished.

The young officer turned and stared back to where the killer had vanished, as his sergeant came up beside him. "What the blazes was that thing?" he muttered.

"No idea, sir," said the sergeant. "Never seen anything move like that before in me life."

"Or kill like that either," replied the lieutenant, staring down at the ragged hole in the lance corporal's body.

Author's notes:

Jo's instruction to Jenny on the 'Shoulder Knee Throw' come from ''Honor Blackman's Book of Self-Defence" published in 1965. I wanted instructions and a throw that might match Jo Grant's UNIT training in the 1970's. Honor Blackman, who has a black belt in Judo, played 'Cathy Gale' in 'The Avengers' (1962 - 1964), and 'Pussy Galore' in the 1964 James Bond film 'Goldfinger.' She also is heard in the Doctor Who audio drama The Children of Seth, (released in 2011) in which she plays the role of Anahita. When Blackman left 'The Avengers' in 1964, she was replaced by Mrs Emma Peel, played by Diana Rigg.

"...the company was also making runs to Australia, and their new ship, The Orient, could make the trip to Adelaide in just less than forty days! Jo didn't have the heart to tell him that by her time, London to Sydney only took about 40 hours!" And today, the fastest flight from Adelaide Australia to London takes about 30 hours. In 100 years between Jenny's time and Jo's they chopped off about 38 days in travel time, in the next forty years they chopped off another 10 hours.