nce again Ace wasn't quite sure what was going on in the TARDIS. For the past few days the Doctor had been more than usually sombre, spending a good deal of his time wandering apparently aimlessly up an down the various long and winding corridors which littered the ship. However, no matter how far he went he always managed to find his way back to the control room which always irritated her, for on more than one occasion she had found herself lost down a corridor she had mistaken for another ( a very easy thing to do ) and having to call for rescue.
From what she could tell, the Doctor seemed to spend his wanderings muttering to himself and, most worrying of all, frequently answering himself in a slightly different roles. At times, these 'conversations' would develop into mild arguments as if he were debating something in his mind over and over again.
Much to Ace's relief the debate seemed finally to have ended when one Tuesday (or was it Friday?), as he hung over the TARDIS console, the Doctor announced:
‘We're going on a little trip, Ace.’
‘Where to, Professor?’ she exclaimed, ‘Skaro, Blackpool, Castrovalva...not Iceworld I hope!’
He looked up at her and smiled, ‘No, none of those places, just a small quiet town I happen to be acquainted with and, before you start protesting it isn't Perivale! I just hope you won't be too bored there. Now, if I can just get the co-ordinates right we should be able to make a perfect landing.’
Standing back from the controls after making various minor adjustments to the settings, the Doctor looked contented. ‘There,’ he said, ‘that should be right.’
Ace couldn't be fooled however, and she knew for a fact that he had his fingers crossed behind his back the whole journey and he definitely couldn't hide the look of relief on his face when
