Kiki raised a hand to her aching head as she flipped off the heavy covers. The room was disgustingly hot and close.

She felt logy and tired, although it must be well nigh midday by now. She stretched and opened the curtains wide, wincing in the full sunlight that streamed into the room. Ugh. It was too hot entirely.

She splashed water on her face in the water-closet and spritzed herself with lavender water. She regarded herself in the mirror with repugnance, hair damp and tendrilled around her impish visage. There were dark circles under her eyes that belied her youth. She wetted a cotton shift in the sink and squeezed it, then put in on, a trick she had learned one summer on the riviera.

She sat damply in a wicker chair on the small balcony and thought. She had come here to get away from her troubles, but more serious ones seemed to be following her. reminders of the war, her father's shouts and ragings behind the thick oak doors of his study. Memories of home and younger days had followed her here like a loyal dog follows it's master, and her husband seemed very far away indeed.
She sighed and tucked her legs under her.
Perhaps she should go back to the flat? Surely the police could find her there. She could hardly flee the country. Which was better, loneliness and worries about her marriage or getting all mixed up in some international assasination attempt and homesickness for her country? Well, it was not as though she could walk away now....

There came a knocking at the door.
She sprang up out of the chair to answer it and realized she was wearing a wet white cotton nightgown.

"Attendez! Wait! Just a moment, please, I'm not decent." She quickly pulled it off and pulled on a (dry) simple linen dress in beige. She ran a hand through her hair and wished she had bothered to set it the previous night. It would have to do.

She opened the door on the short form of the Doctor.