Sarah only had fleeting memories of her grandma Joan. Her mother and father had died in an car accident when Sarah was five, on the way to her funeral. Sarah's grandfather had been an enigma. Her grandma had never spoken about the man, who had left her alone and pregnant. She had married Lavinia's father, who put his name on the birth certificate, and had died when her father and Lavinia were young, long before Sarah was born. Harold Smith had been a good man, from what Sarah had heard.
When Aunt Lavinia died, it took a while to work her way through the things she had left behind. One box was filled with her grandma's journals, of her days as a nurse in a boys school and she found herself reading through the volumes slowly at bedtime, when Luke was asleep and the house was quiet.
Having finished the volume for 1912, she picked another out of the box and settled down to read. But it wasn't Lavinia's handwriting. A man's scrawl. On the inside of the cover was written a name...Doctor John Smith.
Sarah didn't think anything of it, until she started reading. After all, it was a very common name. It was difficult to piece together. The man who had written this hadn't realised that it was all real, but it had to be the Doctor. She knew the story...or parts of it anyway. The drawings.... She let the book slip from her fingers, trying to think. After a minute, she got out of bed and walked over to the box of journals, carefully selecting her grandmother from 1913, the date in the one she was reading.
It painted a clearer picture of what had happened. Not that her grandma had known all the details, but Sarah could fill in the gaps. Martha had to be his current companion. Doctor John Smith had been an unusual man, with strange knowledge. She'd thought Martha mad at first, but eventually was convinced that she was telling the truth.
That was when things started getting weird. Not the aliens and scarecrows. That was normal where the Doctor was concerned. It was the photo. A grainy black and white image that Sarah recognised. Her grandma had kept a larger copy on the mantle, of her and the man who had left her alone and pregnant.
How could she have missed it, all these years. Especially after Deffrey Vale when she had seen him. All these years, and she'd had a crush on her own grandfather. She wondered if he'd suspected...if he'd known. She bit her lip, studying the photos and the journal.
There was something she could do. She put on her dressing gown and slippers and picked up the two books and the photo, heading for the attic. Short of a DNA test...and who knew what that would show. Mr. Smith could connect to any computer. Theoretically, it could connect to the TARDIS. She'd never attempted it because she'd always thought that option should be saved for a real emergency. This wasn't an emergency, but....
Standing before the computer she took a deep breath, as the connection was made and she saw the Doctor (the right Doctor, thankfully) appear on the screen. She hesitated, collecting her thoughts. This was going to be a very awkward conversation.