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“I hadn’t expected so many people, or so much noise,” said Victoria as she followed close behind the Doctor and Jamie, letting them part the crowd before her. “This place is like London.”
“Oh, yes, Victoria, Constantinople was quite the London of its time,” the Doctor replied over his shoulder. “The capital of the Byzantine Empire, you know, which at the current time rivals the height of the Roman Empire, and it is yet to peak for another four hundred years. This city is the hub of trade and diplomacy between Europe and Asia and the centre of the Greek Orthodox Church, so it attracts travellers, merchants, and pilgrims from the world over. It is crowded and noisy and stinking, but also cultured and rich and beautiful.”
“And lively,” she added as she dodged a train of children chasing after each other. “That’s never how it is in the history books. It’s always old men in togas orating at other old men in togas. I don’t think I’ve ever read any mention of women or children.”
“That’s why I say ye shouldnae read at all,” said Jamie. “Books, pfah! Ye cannae trust them. Ye have to come see it all fer yourself.”
“I couldn’t very well have done that before I met the Doctor, now could I? All I’ve ever had are books and I think they’re…” She trailed off as she saw Jamie’s big fond grin. She slapped him on the arm. “Oh, you!”
Jamie coaxed her to walk between him and the Doctor as they entered a wide colonnaded arcade of shops. “Of course ye should read, and I thank ye for teaching me.”
She flashed a smile at him, then turned to the Doctor. “It’s nothing at all like they say in the books. When you suggested this dress for me and that tunic for Jamie, I thought we’d stand out with all these colors. I thought they all wore white.”
“That is a common misconception,” said the Doctor. “People look at the plain marble statues in the museums and think that the clothes must have been white then, too, but even the statues were once painted with realistic colours. The buildings as well.” He gestured at the colourful buildings around them and then at the Hagia Sophia in the distance, just visible through one of the arches. “Not just gray limestone like the British Museum.”
Victoria strayed off to the side to look at the wares displayed in front of a clothing shop. “It’s all so beautiful,” she breathed as she sorted through a rack of belts of all kinds, from dyed cords to multicoloured knits to sashes.
A young boy, slightly younger than Victoria herself and probably the owner’s son, appeared in front of her. “These sashes are silk, just come from Persia. This one here is perfect for your dress. You will be the talk of Constantinople.”
Victoria stepped backward, bumping into Jamie. “Oh, no, I’m just looking, thank you.”
The boy held out the indicated sash across Victoria’s dress and nodded at Jamie. “Does this not make her even more beautiful?”
As Victoria blushed, Jamie agreed and urged her over her shoulder, “Ye should buy it. It’ll remind ye of our visit here.”
“Oh, no, I can’t,” she replied. “I don’t have any money, and besides...” She pointed at one of the knitted belts, striped with all manner of greens, blues, reds, and tans. “I would rather get that one. I like it better.”
“That’s made right here.” The boy thumbed at the shop behind him. “The best local wool, and we dye, spin, and knit it. My sister Kalla made that one. Real quality, will last you forever.”
“Would ye trade, say, fer these boots?” Jamie asked, holding his right foot out, and the boy bent to inspect them.
“No, Jamie,” Victoria said. “Let me.” She thought for a moment, then took off her crystal earrings and held them out. “How about for these? They’re silver and glass.”
The way in which the boy immediately said, “Sold!” and exchanged the belt for them told Jamie that Victoria had overpaid by a large amount, but the delighted shine in her eyes made up for it. Holding the belt up draped across both hands, she gazed at it, enchanted by the colours and the weave, then tied it around herself, just above the plain cord belt she’d chosen in the TARDIS wardrobe. “I love it,” she breathed.
“Very good, Victoria,” the Doctor said. “It’s quite fetching, and I think it will always bring back wonderful memories for you.”
. _ . _ . _ . _ .
“Yes, yes, Jamie, I know,” the Doctor said as they strode down the corridor together. “It’s not a pleasant task, but it must be done, or I’m liable to put it off for centuries. And two pairs of hands make for fast work.”
Jamie had nothing to say.
“You weren’t quite this contrary with Ben’s and Polly’s rooms.” He eyed Jamie. “Leaving Victoria’s room as it is isn’t going to bring her back, you know.”
Jamie continued to fume silently.
“And we’re not going to destroy the room. Just like with Ben and Polly, we’re just going to tidy it a bit so that the TARDIS can archive it. You can still visit it any time you want.”
Jamie stayed quiet until they’d entered Victoria’s room and he spied the books lying open on the small table in the corner. “Those are mine. She was teaching me with them.”
The Doctor clapped his hands together. “You see? Already found something worth saving. Go ahead and pile them by the door so you can take them back to your room.” He spun around on his heel to take a quick survey of the rest of the room. “Not much to be done here. Victoria kept this place well, and she took what she needed to the Harrises.”
Jamie checked the en suite whilst the Doctor searched through the wardrobe and the chest of drawers, and they found them mostly empty, all the personal items gone and only general things like towels and bedclothes left behind.
“Jamie, come here,” the Doctor called as he opened the last drawer at the foot of the wardrobe.
Jamie found the Doctor pulling out an extremely long but unfinished striped scarf, perhaps a foot wide and so far at least six feet long, the rest still nestled in the drawer. The Doctor held the working edge, the needles, and the trailing ball of yarn under his arm as he gently lifted more and more scarf out. The scarf’s stripes were uneven, crafted of all manner of greens, purples, reds, and tans and looking very much like…
“Och! That looks like that belt!” Jamie exclaimed.
“From Constantinople.” The Doctor nodded as he continued to pull out more scarf, and Jamie stepped forward to help. “I thought as much as well. Did you know she was making this?”
“Nay, not at all. Where did she get the yarn?”
“TARDIS stores, I’m sure. I don’t know half of what’s in there.” The end, fringed with yarns of the same colours, finally emerged. All that remained in the drawer were half-used skeins. “Ah, there it is. Let’s see the whole thing.”
The Doctor and Jamie, each with an end in hand, stretched it across the entire length of the room, backing into the opposite walls to pull it to its full extent. “What do you think?” the Doctor asked. “Twelve feet?”
“If it’s a yard.” Jamie laid his end down and walked the length of the scarf as he looked it over. “Nice even stitching. But it’s nae right, is it? It’s nae a copy.”
“No, not exactly. She didn’t like the blues, remember? She said she wished it was purple, but they couldn’t have used purple because that was reserved for royalty.” He knelt down and ran a hand over a purple stripe. “So now she has her purple.”
“Why dinnae she take it with her?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps she wanted us to remember her by it.” The Doctor looked up at him. “Do you want it?”
Jamie seemed to be biting something back. “Aye,” he finally said.
“Very good.” The Doctor jumped up and started folding the scarf up. “I’ll just finish it right where it is, add the fringe, then stretch it. I expect it will top eighteen feet.”
“Ye can knit?”
“A bit. Enough to cast off. Come on.”
After the Doctor bundled up the scarf, Jamie loaded his arms with extra skeins then grabbed his books, and they returned to their own rooms with their prizes.
. _ . _ . _ . _ .
“I hope you’re satisfied, Lethbridge-Stewart,” the Doctor muttered to himself as he strode down the corridor, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Meet an alien race and all you can think to do is blow it up. They were intelligent! They could have been allies! Yes, yes, I know the government are scared, but that isn’t the answer. One day, you’ll meet a race that you can’t blow up, and then what will you do?”
He stopped in front of a door and continued his lecture with it as his target. “Well. I suppose that if you’re busy with your little guns and bombs, perhaps that will keep you out of my hair and I can get some actual work done.
The Doctor grasped the doorknob, then froze in apprehension. This never got any easier, and this one was the hardest yet, because the room would be full, all the items and memories in it forgotten. He took a deep breath. “Best to man up and get it over with.” He twisted the knob and threw the door open.
The first thing in the room that the Doctor saw were the bagpipes on the bed, their location demonstrating that Jamie had continued to practice and play them all through their travels. However, the item just above them stole his attention away. Jamie had draped Victoria’s ridiculously long scarf on pegs mounted on the wall above the bed. In his mind’s eye, the Doctor imagined Jamie gazing at the scarf whilst playing his pipes in memory of his dear friend.
“Oh, Victoria.” Moving the bagpipes to the shelf, the Doctor climbed up on the bed and lifted the scarf down. “I hope you don’t mind if I take this. Now it’s only me to remember you both, you and Jamie.” He folded the scarf up, then jumped down and gazed at it in his hands.
“And I do remember. People think I don’t, but I do. Perhaps someday I’ll wear this, when I’m someone else. But for now, I think it will remain a cherished memory.” He nodded to Jamie’s room and once more to his bagpipes, then stepped out into the corridor and closed the door.
