Open She hurried past the stairs, grabbing the handle of a door, and slipped through it. A sudden brightness made her blink (and then wince and inwardly reprimand herself for doing so), as she stepped into what looked like a corridor. It was completely empty. She turned back toward the door warily, and stopped, astonished. There was just blank, damp wall where the door had been a moment ago. She turned back, staring at the room, which looked like a large cellar, comprehension dawning over her and making her groan and slump against the wall, sinking lower. One of the angels must have sent her back into the past, because she clearly wasn't where she'd been before.
The angels still had the phone box, and Larry couldn't help if she had the key. The angels might send him back too, maybe here or maybe not, given that Cathy was in 1920 and the Doctor was in 1969. Maybe she or the Doctor would live long enough to do something about it all, and maybe she could get a message to him or someone, anyone who could help. Either way, now that she was... wherever and whenever she was, she'd better start finding out where and when it was and work out what to do next. She stood up, brushing her hair back from her face, and started to walk along the corridor. There were breeze blocks and fluorescent lighting, so it couldn't be that far back. As she walked further, she made out a flight of stairs and hastened toward them. They brought her into a plain-looking stairway, and she continued to climb until she reached a door leading off it and opened that.
She was in a hallway, carpeted and with several doors leading off it. The few furnishings she could see didn't look particularly old-fashioned. That combined with everything else she'd seen since arriving made her think she couldn't have travelled back far. She wasn't sure whether that was good or bad, but it probably gave her a fighting chance, so long as she didn't talk to the wrong person and blow up the universe or something. Further up the corridor she glimpsed movement, and she stopped and cautiously backed against the wall, pausing to consider what to do. She'd never find out where and when she was if she didn't look, and whoever it was might be able to help, assuming she didn't say anything mad like 'Hello, I've just been sent here from the future by a statue that was really an alien, what year is this?'. She called out, grateful that her voice sounded relatively steady,
"Hello? Excuse me. I seem to be lost. Can you help me?"