“Anyway,” the Doctor pulled the vicar aside and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, “the thing is, vicar…I’ve got this little…phobia, I suppose you could call it–you know what a phobia is?” Again, the polite but distant stare. “No? Well, it’s…an odd little quirk, I guess, one would say. Anyway, the thing is, I don’t like just walking through curtains unannounced. Not sure why…childhood nightmares, perhaps? Strict Timeloard upbringing?” The Doctor beamed at the vicar, “So I thought, well, that you might want to be a good chap and go through first, eh?”

With that, the Doctor stepped back and motioned to the vicar to go ahead of him. The vicar started to walk forward, then stopped and inclined his head. “You know, I don’t believe you’ve mentioned your name.” The Doctor gave a faint smile and said, “Oh, yes, where are my manners–my companions are forever going on at me about my manners—I’m the Doctor. And you are?” The vicar suddenly got a queer expression on his face, as if he were listening to something the Doctor could not hear. The Doctor cocked his head in thoughtful curiosity, and frowned. The Vicar snapped out of it, suddenly. He cleared his throat. “Actually, Doctor, I’m late for an appointment with one of my flock. I’m sorry, but I’ve only just remembered.”

With a knowing grin, the Doctor replied. “Do you now? Yes, one’s memory tends to wander more as one gets older, sometimes, ey?” He winked mischievously. “Well, don’t tell anyone, but I tend to be a bit forgetful sometimes, myself. For instance,” he rummaged through his pocket, “I sometimes forget where I put my watch. Could I trouble you for the time?” The vicar looked like he was about to refuse, then changed his mind. “Certainly, Doctor.” He fished a gold pocket watch out of his pocket. “That’s a nice watch,” the Doctor said. The vicar smiled, “A gift from a friend.” The Doctor held it up and admired it, swinging it back and forth in front of the vicar’s face. “Very nice, beautiful workmanship.” He continued softly, “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it vicar, nice soft, rainy day, so calm and serene, so…peaceful, restful.”

The vicar’s features quickly relaxed and became blank. “It’s a nice day, isn’t it vicar, a nice sunny day, not a cloud in the sky…” “Yes.” the vicar said in a monotone. “Right then,” spoke the Doctor in his most authoritarian voice, “what’s really behind that curtain, eh, vicar?”