Doctor Who The Lodger

Season #5 Episode #11

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[Aickman Road]

(The TARDIS materializes in a small park. The Doctor pokes his head outs and looks around.)

THE DOCTOR:

No, Amy, it's definitely not the fifth moon of Cindie Colesta. I think I can see a Ryman's.

(The Doctor is then blown out of the TARDIS as it begins to dematerialize.)

THE DOCTOR:

Amy! Amy!

[Tardis]

(The Tardis is shaking and sparks are flying of the console)

AMY:

Doctor? Its saying we're on Earth. Essex, Colchester.

[Aickman Road]

Doctor:

Amy! Amy.

(One day later. A young man is walking down the sidewalk next to the flats. He stops when he hears a voice.)

MAN[OC]:
Hello? Hello, please? Hello? I need your help. There's been an accident. Please, I need your help.

(The young man goes up to the door as it opens. The voice is coming from the intercom for two flats, 79a and 79b.)

[House]

(The upstairs light is flickering as the young man walks up the stairs.)

Steven:
Hello?

MAN [OC]:
Please, will you help me?

STEVEN:
Help you? What's wrong?

(A figure is standing at the top of the stairs.)

MAN:
Something terrible's happened. Please help me.

(Steven goes up the stairs)

[Craig's Flat]

(It's composed of a kitchen and a living room. Sophie is looking at the rot while Craig is distracted.)

Sophie:
Craig, what's that on the ceiling?

CRAIG:
What's what on the ceiling?

SOPHIE:
That. It's coming from upstairs.

(A damp stain in the corner.)

SOPHIE:
Who lives up there again?

CRAIG:
Just some bloke.

(The stain spreads.)

CRAIG:
So what's the plan tonight? Pizza, booze, telly?

SOPHIE:
Yeah, pizza, booze, telly.

(Bang! upstairs.)

SOPHIE:
What is he doing up there? You put the advert up yet?

CRAIG:
Yeah, did it today, paper shop window. One furnished room available immediately, shared kitchen, bathroom, with twenty seven year old male, non-smoker, four hundred pound pcm, per calendar month, suit young professional.

SOPHIE:
Mmm, sounds ideal. That's your mission in life, Craig. Find me a man.

CRAIG:
Yeah, otherwise you'll have to settle for me.

SOPHIE:
You'll have to settle for me first.

(Sophie answers her phone.)

SOPHIE:
Oh, Melina again. What? Right. Yeah, but I've kind of got plans. No, it's nothing important, it's just Craig.

(Craig sees the stain spreading again and hears her comment.)

CRAIG:
Oh, thanks, Soph.

SOPHIE:
Sorry. You know what I mean. Okay, I'll talk to Craig. Okay. Now she's having a Dylan crisis on top of the Clare crisis. It could be another all-nighter. I'm sorry, but I really should go. Do you mind if I go?

CRAIG:
No, not at all. No, honestly. Course not. Go.

SOPHIE:
Because I could stay.

CRAIG:
No, go on.

SOPHIE:
I mean, we've got plans.

CRAIG:
Just pizza.

SOPHIE:
Yeah, it's just pizza. Okay, right, I'm going.

CRAIG:
All right, then. Well, er, I'll see you soon.

SOPHIE:
Yeah.

CRAIG:
All right. And give me a call, and I hope everything's okay.

SOPHIE:
Thanks, sorry.

(Sophie leaves the flat and hears noises from upstairs, then footsteps. She leaves the house.)

CRAIG:
Just tell her. Just tell her. I love you. I love you. Oh, just. Hey, I don't know if you knew. Oh.

(The doorbell rings.)

CRAIG:
Every time.

(Sophie has left her keys behind on a fluffy pink key ring, so he picks them up and goes to the front door.)

CRAIG:
I love you. I love you.

[Front Door]

(Craig opens the door and expects to see Sophie but finds the Doctor.)

Craig:
I love you.

The Doctor:
Well that's good cause I'm your new lodger.

(Craig is dumbfounded as The Doctor takes Sophie's keys.)

The Doctor:
You know, this is going to be easier than I expected.

Craig:
But I only put out the advert today. I didn't put my address.

The Doctor:
Well aren't you lucky I came along? More lucky than you know. Less of young professional, more of an ancient amatuer. But frankly I'm an absolute dream.

Craig:
Hang on a minute. I don't know if I want you staying here. And give me back those keys. You can't have those.

The Doctor:
Yes, quite right. Have some rent.

(The Doctor hands Craig a brown paper bag with a lot of money in it.)

The Doctor:
That's probably quite a lot isn't it. Looks like a lot. Is it a lot? I can never tell.

(The Doctor walks past Craig and goes inside the flat.)

DOCTOR:
Don't spend it all on sweets, unless you like sweets. I like sweets.

(The Doctor gives Craig two kisses in the air. Craig is disturbed by this.)

The Doctor:
That's how we greet each other nowadays, isn't it? I'm the Doctor. Well, they call me the Doctor. I don't know why. I call me the Doctor, too. Still don't know why.

CRAIG:
Craig Owens. The Doctor?

DOCTOR:
Yep. Who lives upstairs?

CRAIG:
Just some bloke.

DOCTOR:
What's he look like?

CRAIG:
Normal. He's very quiet.

(Crash.)

CRAIG:
Usually. Sorry, who are you again? Hello?

[Living Room]

CRAIG:
Excuse me?

DOCTOR:
Ah. I suppose that's dry rot?

CRAIG:
Or damp. Or mildew.

DOCTOR:
Or none of the above.

CRAIG:
I'll get someone to fix it.

DOCTOR:
No, I'll fix it. I'm good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me the Rotmeister. This is the most beautiful parlour I have ever seen. You're obviously a man of impeccable taste. I can stay, Craig, can't I? Say I can.

CRAIG:
You haven't even seen the room.

DOCTOR:
The room?

CRAIG:
Your room.

DOCTOR:
My room? Oh, yes. My room. My room. Take me to my room.

[Doctor's Room]

CRAIG:
Yeah, this is Mark's old room. He owns the place. Moved out about a month ago. This uncle he'd never even heard of died and left a load of money in the will.

DOCTOR:
How very convenient. This'll do just right. In fact.

(Another loud crash from above. The Doctor tests the air with a damp finger.)

DOCTOR:
No time to lose. I'll take it. Ah you'll want to see my credentials. There.

(The psychic paper gets passed behind the Doctor's back and shown to Craig three times as different things.)

The Doctor:
National Insurance number. NHS number. References.

CRAIG:
Is that a reference from the Archbishop of Canterbury?

The Doctor:
I'm his special favourite. Are you hungry? I'm hungry.

CRAIG:
I haven't got anything in.

[Kitchen]

(The Doctor pulls random stuff from the fridge and makes an omelette.)

The Doctor:
You've got everything I need for an omelette fines herbes, pour deux. So, who's the girl on the fridge?

(A photograph of Craig and Sophie, along with the Vincent van Gogh Self-portrait in Straw Hat postcard.)

CRAIG:
My friend. Sophie.

The Doctor:
Girlfriend?

CRAIG:
A friend who is a girl. There's nothing going on.

The Doctor:
Oh, that's completely normal. Works for me.

CRAIG:
We met at work about a year ago, at the call centre.

The Doctor:
Oh really, a communications exchange? That could be handy.

CRAIG:
Firm's going down though. The bosses are using a totally rubbish business model. I know what they should do. I got a plan all worked out. But I'm just a phone drone, I can't go running in saying I know best. Why am I telling you this? I don't even know you.

The Doctor:
Well, I've got one of those faces. People never stop blurting out their plans while I'm around.

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