There are moments, thought Romana, when I positively loathe that man. How dare he look so cheerful when he's been trapped the far side of that shell with a huge ravening what-ever-it-is? How dare he appear looking as if he's just returned from a five-mile hike, when, by the rules that govern the Universe, he should have been torn limb from limb or squashed flatter than a crepe suzette by a million tons of green blob?

'I'm afraid I can't think in billions,' said Romana. 'I can only think of Adric - alone and a prisoner in this Tower. You go to the TARDIS, I'll join you as soon as I can.'

So it seemed that her apprenticeship was, indeed, finally over. The Doctor smiled; she would be better than good, she would be superb.

The Doctor lifted his head from the book, staring into nowhere, allowing the bitter-sweet memories to wash over him. His days as a fugitive from the Time Lords were long behind him now. ‘I lost my fight, Romana. Remember that.’

Romana patted the TARDIS. 'Well done, we're very close.'

She caught the Doctor's eye and snatched back her hand. She was always reproving the Doctor for treating the TARDIS as a person. Obviously it was catching.

Tegan’s experience of travelling with the Doctor had convinced her that (a) he didn’t know what was going on most of the time, and (b) when he did get things right it was more by luck than judgement.

"Really?" muttered Romana uninterestedly. She knew very well that any future move was in the hands of the Doctor, amongst whose traits predictability was not numbered.

"You see, this thing-" she contemptuously thumped the box "-needs updating, and he won't link in the new ordnance. So, I tried to jack in the G129AT, some old wiring fused... and I ended up here. Now the door won't close, the Cloister Bell's ringing because the TARDIS thinks it's under attack from the Pus Creatures Of Rakos, and I just know he'll wake up any minute."

DOCTOR: Do you know any good scarf shops? Nothing too fancy. Only length is important.

No situation, however urgent, could override Romana's aristocratic politeness. She paused at the bottom of the steps looking at the oddlooking little man who had turned up to save her. "I really must thank -"

Her eyes widened. "Doctor?"

"Fake?" The Doctor dabbed at his wounds once more. "Tegan, I hate to tell you this, but if we don't get this sorted out soon, you may have to start locking your door at night. I wonder what it's like, being a vampire?"

“At last Doctor. I suppose you want me to open the park gates with my sonic screwdriver?"

“Romana, would you be so good as to open the park gates with my sonic screwdriver?” said the Doctor.

"The human mind," mused Romana as she followed the Doctor around the TARDIS console. "All in all, rather a rudimentary device for interfacing with reality."

"Yes," said the Doctor. "Fortunately, the mind of a Time Lord is a good sight tidier. My brain is a model." He pressed a yellow button.

“Of course it is, Doctor," said Romana, reaching forward quickly to press the yellow button again. "I mean, I'm not even slightly disorganized." He pulled a lever; Romana reversed its position. "One has to keep the brain clear, it's essential." Suddenly he looked up. "Romana!"

"What?"

He put a hand to his hair. "I've left my hat behind!"

Romana smiled, took the hat from her coat pocket, and popped it on his head.

Still, at least she wasn’t stupid enough to twist her ankle, she thought proudly. The Doctor clutched her shoulder with an agonized expression. ‘Romana, I think I’ve twisted my ankle.’ He sounded quite offended.