![]() IAN: I have an enquiring mind… (Motions to the loud radio.) and a very sensitive ear. I wouldn't expect you to know things like that. He started his career as Chris Waites and the IAN: (Laughing.) "John Smith" is the stage name of the honourable Aubrey Waites. They've gone from 19 to 2.īARBARA: (Not understanding a bit of it.) Hmm. SUSAN: I-It's John Smith and the Common Men. SUSAN: (Putting down the radio.) Oh, I-I'm sorry, Miss Wright! I didn't hear you coming in. She dances strangely to the music by making abrupt movements with her right hand and fake With elfin features, unusually short dark hair and unusual eyes. (15-year old SUSAN FOREMAN - the subject of the teacher's conversation - is listening to a little pocket radio, putting it up to her ear. I thought we could drive there, wait 'till she arrives and see where she goes.īARBARA: Well, that is, if you're not doing anything. IAN: Oh, all right! (He grabs his coat.) What do we do? Ask her point blank?īARBARA: No. (BARBARA rolls her eyes, and the two teachers get up to leave.) IAN: What's she going to do - rewrite it? I'm lending her a book on the French Revolution. IAN: (Grins.) Well, we'll have to find out for ourselves, won't we?īARBARA: (Grins.) Thank you for the “we”. Well, there must be a simple answer somewhere. There’s a big wall on one side, houses on the other, and nothing in the middle. IAN: Well the secretary got it wrong then…īARBARA: No. IAN: Well, you must've gone to the wrong place.īARBARA: Well that’s the address the secretary gave me. You went along there one evening.īARBARA: Well, there isn't anything there. (He walks across the room to dry his hands.) I got her address from the secretary - 76 Totters Lane - and I went along there one evening. IAN: Oh, did you indeed? And what's the old boy like?īARBARA: Well, that's just it. But then recently, her homework's been so bad.īARBARA: Finally, I was so irritated with all her excuses, I decided to have a talk with this grandfather of hers and tell him to take some interest in IAN: (Getting up and walking around to a sink.) He's a doctor, isn't he? It’s a bit of a lame excuse.īARBARA: Well, I didn't pursue the point. Then she said that would be “absolutely impossible” as her grandfather didn't like strangers. 'till I said I'd be willing to work with her at her home. I had a talk with her, and I told her she ought to specialise. And I know you're going to tell me I'm imagining things.īARBARA: Well, I told you how good she is at history. IAN: So, your problem is whether to stay in business or hand over the class to her.īARBARA: Ian, I must talk to someone about this, but I don't want the girl to get into trouble. She's a genius! Is that what she's doing with history? IAN: Fifteen.she lets her knowledge out a bit at a time, so as not to embarrass me: that's what I feel about her. IAN: And you don't know what to make of her? I don't know what to make of it.īARBARA: Oh, it's one of the girls: Susan Foreman. (BARBARA walks up to the bench and sits.)īARBARA: Oh, I've had a terrible day. (Inside another teacher, IAN CHESTERTON sits at a lab bench, marking some papers. BARBARA walks up behind them up to another classroom door. One whispers something naughty to the other, they smile and moveĪlong. A young male student comes up, mocking their excited tones. Two female students walk along the corridor, very interested in the paper they're (Various pupils say “Good night, Miss Wright as they walk past BARBARA. WRIGHT, follows the students out, calling back into the classroom.)īARBARA: Wait in here please, Susan. The students spill out of the classrooms, chattering to each other. (The ringing of the bell brings an end to another day at the school. That is strange enough in itself, but even stranger is the fact that the box is emitting a low Behind him, one of the gates creaks open revealing that hidden within the scrapĪnd junk of yard is the incongruous shape of a London police box. ![]() ![]() ![]() The policeman shines his torch onto the gates then proceeds into the night. Of tall shabby wooden gates on which is painted (On a dark foggy night a lone policeman patrols his beat through the empty streets of London. The strangest hero of all! Fan transcript, based on the BBC Television series created by Sydney Newman. His past, his people, his very name, are unknown. Gigantic spaceship/time machine disguised as a police telephone box. An eccentric old man, exiled from his homeworld, traveling through both space and time in the TARDIS - a ![]()
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