“You unlucky, mh?” it was more of a rhetoric question than anything. She was less unlucky than others, but still a pregnant maid. It didn’t look good. Chéri nodded “I knew a lady who used ginger,” was all they said, because they mostly believed Pippa knew better. Chéri rose their eyebrows, learning “Look, finally I know something useful about this island!” and laughed a little bitterly and too loudly, as they often did.

“Pippa, I like it. I am Chéri,” darling, precious one. It was not precisely a name, but it was something. “Have you been here with the Doctor long, Pippa?” they weren’t a chatty sort, normally, but they were enjoyning something that felt normal, after the mayhem of the last few days.