Death of the Doctor by Gary Russell

Chapter One
    Very bad news
    It was a fairly normal weekend in Bannerman Road. So far.
    Of course, normal can mean different things to different people. To Haresh Chandra, “normal” meant it was a good day to go outside, and wash the rather smart car that he drove. Gita, his wife, was inside their home, going through invoices and bills relating to Bloomin’ Lovely. That was the name of the florist business she ran from a small shop on the Parade, up near Park Vale station. Although, Haresh had noted more than once, she seemed to run it from their kitchen table more often than not. The kitchen was Haresh’s domain – he loved cooking and after a hard day being headmaster at Park Vale Comprehensive School, there was nothing he liked more than to come home, turn the oven on and whip up something exceptional for Gita and their seventeen-year-old daughter Rani.
    But when Gita was in “bills and invoices” mode, the kitchen was lost to him for the day, so the open air, a hosepipe of water and a soft sponge to shine up his car always seemed the best option. As for Rani, she was where she always was when not studying for her exams. She was over with their neighbour and friend, Sarah Jane Smith. Haresh often wondered why Sarah Jane took such an interest in Rani and her friend Clyde. Haresh was never sure he quite trusted Clyde - he was a bit of a joker at school. Haresh had to acknowledge that Clyde had never actually done anything to upset his daughter, so he opted to keep quiet, but always kept an eye on the boy.
    Haresh glanced over at Sarah Jane’s big corner house, number 13. The little green car she drove was in the driveway so he knew they hadn’t gone anywhere, but she had been in there quite some time. Then he remembered it was Saturday afternoon – of course, it was the regular Saturday afternoon call from Sarah Jane’s son, and Haresh’s former star pupil, Luke. He was at Oxford University a year early – yes, he was that brainy – and would soon be home for a long weekend. But in the meantime, he was always the dutiful son and got in touch. Poor Sarah Jane missed him dreadfully, but at least they were in regular contact.
    With a smile at Luke’s success, Haresh went back to washing dirt and stuff off the front of his car.
    Over the road, in the attic of that big house, Sarah Jane, Rani and Clyde were, as Haresh had guessed, grouped around a laptop, talking to Luke over the webcam. If Haresh had been with them, he might, however, have been alarmed and surprised to see that the attic also played host to a number of alien artefacts and devices Sarah Jane had accumulated over the years that she had spent either travelling in time and space with her old friend the Doctor, or since she had taken up her unofficial role as defender of Earth. From an attic. In Ealing. With Rani, Luke and Clyde. And Mr Smith, the huge, sentient alien supercomputer built into the chimney stack.
    Mr Smith had actually been the topic of the initial conversation with Luke. He and his robot dog, K-9, had suggested some new upgrades to Mr Smith’s software, but Mr Smith wasn’t convinced they were necessary. Sarah Jane reckoned this was more because his old sparring partner K-9 had suggested them, but she wasn’t going to press the point. And when the one-liners between Mr Smith and K-9 had got just a little bit beyond witty one-upmanship, she had changed the subject.
    ‘Well, I hope you’ve finished all your coursework,’ Sarah Jane said to Luke.
    Luke clapped delightedly from his small study in Oxford. ‘Ha! Sanjay owes me five quid,’ he laughed. ‘Cos I bet him you’d say that!’
    Sarah Jane smiled tightly. ‘I see.’
    But Clyde leaned towards the screen. ‘And who is Sanjay?’
    Luke paused for a second, as if thinking how best to describe his friend. ‘Well, he’s in a room just down the hall. He’s brilliant, we just clicked right away. He’s studying biology and he’s so clever, he’s like my best mate.’
    Rani