Colour tattoo on the thigh showing a blue TARDIS police box above a cream banner reading ALLONS-Y, framed by red roses and pink swirls, in a neo-traditional style.

TARDIS and roses banner on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A blue TARDIS police box sits behind a cream scroll banner reading ALLONS-Y, with the words POLICE BOX visible on its roof sign. Two red roses flank the banner at either side, and pink swirling lines and small star dots surround the design against a yellow glow behind the box. The bold outlines and saturated colours are set on a thigh, photographed straight on with the edge of pink fabric visible at the top.

Neo-trad Traditional Thigh Tardis Police box Banner Rose Sun Swirl Star Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the time the flatbed reached the car park behind the Ferrers Arms, Marnie had already said "allons-y" three times, and I had stopped trying to count the ways the afternoon could go wrong. The box was Tomasz's doing. He had found it in a salvage yard outside Lewes for four hundred pounds and a crate of cider, and he insisted it would hold the rings until the vows, because nobody thinks to search a police box for anything.

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The door stuck, as I had been warned it would. Uncle Frank, who had volunteered to run the sound effects, pressed a switch under the lamp and the wheeze of a dying engine rolled out across the gravel. Inside, the bulb hummed and the walls were still faintly warm from the sun. The rings hung from a hook on a loop of blue ribbon, exactly where Tomasz had left them, and beside them lay a folded card in his square capitals: DON'T PANIC. YOU'RE LATE, BUT ONLY BY TWO MINUTES.

Marnie laughed so hard she had to sit on the step, and the roses pinned to her bodice shed a petal onto the boards. "We're not late," she said. "We've just been somewhere else for a while." I didn't argue. I had spent the morning bent over a sink, convinced the day would slip out of reach, and yet the box had kept it for us, humming and bright and exactly where it should be.

Then she lifted the smaller ring from the ribbon, pressed it into my palm, and held out her hand. "Allons-y," she said again, and this time we stepped out together into the warm light, with the guests already turning in their seats to see what had taken us so long.