She knew that Oswin was in there, of course; she'd encountered her on the network. The pathweb, she called it. Must have been what the internet became in the future. No. Hang on. It was the Dalek network. Their collective history and knowledge of the universe. Oswin had, however temporarily, deleted the Doctor from their mainframe. He'd had a good run without them.
For an instant, Clara thought about banging on the outside of the Dalek. Just give it a good, ole whack with a — ah, yes, there was a mallet somewhere on the TARDIS. She could go searching for it and bang on Oswin's front door really loudly.
Probably not the best idea, not when Oswin could talk to her on the network and stars knew what an active Dalek would do. The thing was just so freaky sitting in this room, alone. Maybe a better idea was to push it out of the TARDIS and into her apartment where, if the Dalek programming took over, they'd be safe.
But Tumbleweed would be in its path. And then the rest of the world.
Nope, that wasn't going to work. Oswin was staying put. If she woke up and went all Dalek, they could deal with her here. Lock the doors if necessary. The TARDIS certainly wouldn't let a Dalek fly it, would probably actually destroy itself before it let it anywhere near the console. No, this was safer for everyone.
That was when her phone began to ring, loudly, echoing around the entire room. Clara's eyes widened to teacup size, flustered as she reached into her pocket, to snatch the blasted thing before Oswin could hear it. (Could she hear it in there?) She muted it before stepping out of the room in a hurry, closing and locking the door behind her. Then, and only then, did she answer.
"Helena?" She'd gotten a few random texts from Albus's daughter, but the girl sounded worried. "Are you all right?"