Before he could wonder any more about it, on the other side of the room the curtain of a dressing cubicle swept back and the Doctor and Yaz emerged in each other’s arms. It took Ryan a moment to realise that they were dancing. The Doctor was leading. She was wearing a jumpsuit in a striking rust colour.

‘Nice togs,’ said Ryan admiringly.

‘I love getting dressed up for a mission,’ the Doctor said. ‘It’s by one of my favourite Zygon designers. No fiddly buttons, but the suckers do leave a mark.’

Yaz was in a long silver dress with a pattern like ripples on a moonlit pond.

‘Ready?’ asked the Doctor.

‘Dip me,’ replied Yaz.

The dancers came out of a turn, the Doctor twirled Yaz, then pulled her close, wrapped one hand firmly round her waist, cradled her neck with the other and gently lowered her to the floor as Yaz hugged the Doctor’s shoulder.

There was a long silence as they stayed like that for several seconds.

‘We should probably go now,’ said Yaz.

‘Yeah,’ agreed the Doctor.

Still dazed from the conversation, Yaz joined the Doctor in the console room. She was alone. Yaz saw by the rise and fall of the time-rotor that they were already underway. The Doctor wasn’t wasting a moment. There she stood over the controls, unaware of the call from Doctor Then or her future self’s instruction not to share it with Doctor Now. Yaz could feel a blush rise to her cheeks – she felt as though she was cheating on her. With her.

‘You okay?’ asked the Doctor.

‘Nothing. I mean, yes. I’m fine. How are you?’