I almost couldn't believe it when I was finally discharged. I had been ready to leave five days before.
Holly and Lockwood came to pick me up and I felt almost giddy. Tired, but giddy.
Lockwood was still doing somewhat poorly, but I liked to think that he seemed a bit more cheerful when I came home.
Home. Or as close as I got to a home these days. I certainly wasn't going anywhere near Tooting.
I almost fell twice because I in such a hurry to get out of that place. The only thing I was going to miss would be Quill's evening visits. Something told me that he probably wouldn't be coming to Portland Row to sit near my bedside.
Lockwood helped me out of the taxi. It was mid-afternoon and after being locked up for so long, I couldn't help but stand still on the sidewalk in front of the house and bask a little in the sun. I had never been one for flowers but seeing the daffodils in the neighbour's garden made me happy for some reason.
I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths of the fresh air and felt my mouth spreading in a wide smile as I let that feeling of freedom fill me up.
When I opened my eyes again, it was to Lockwood who was standing, looking at me with amusement. I hoped my joy could somehow rub off on him. I wanted him to be happy.
"Welcome home Lucy." he told me quietly.
His smile wasn't the large 100-gigawatt smile he used to sport, but something softer. A little hesitant as if he didn't quite know if he was allowed to smile or not.
He cleared his throat. "I would like to use this opportunity," he started with a funny air of formality, "to ask you, Lucy Joan Carlyle, to officially move back into this humble abode."
With a flourish, he offered me a key, holding it in the palm of his hand. I recognised it to be my old one – the one I had dropped in the mailbox when I had left months ago. A keychain had been added to it though with two small charms in the form of a skull and a rapier. He blew out his cheeks and held his breath, waiting for my response.
Even if I hadn't wanted to, I couldn't help the grin that spread on my face. It made me happy that he didn't just assume that I was already living there like everyone else seemed to.
I pretended to play it cool in the same mocking tone. "Well, whatever. My stuff's already there, isn't it?"
He huffed a small laugh of relief and dangled the key in front of me. I grabbed it and studied the small charms.
Holly had gone ahead in front of us and was waiting in front of the door. Lockwood supported me on the way up to the house
"I really need to fix those tiles." He mumbled when he realised exactly how uneven they were. There was nothing like helping an injured friend or a senior citizen to call attention to missing, - or broken parts of a pathway.
Holly was holding the door open and when I stepped into the hall, I was immediately engulfed by the lovely scent of George's signature stew. We followed the smell to the kitchen where a surprise lay waiting.
A small package was lying on the kitchen table and George was glaring at it as if its very existence had offended him. On top of it a head of broccoli laid with a pink ribbon around the stem tied in a neat bow.
I laughed out loud when I saw it and the others looked at me strangely.
"Here, Holly. Catch" I threw the broccoli to Holly, but almost hit her in the face with it. I winced.
Under the broccoli was an envelope with my name on it in swirling letters. I ripped it open to reveal a small card. George stood with arms crossed in front of his chest, the very image of consternation. Lockwood was leaning against the far wall, looking at me with a guarded expression and Holly was leaning forward in curiosity, holding the broccoli like a bride about to walk down the aisle.
Dearest Lucy
I figured you would like to have this back.
Love, Quill
PS: I finally bought a new sofa.
I shook my head and chuckled in exasperation before opening the package. In it was the skirt I had worn the night of my attack, washed and folded neatly enough to rival Holly. I snorted in amusement and closed the package back up. I put it onto a nearby chair and looked around at the organised chaos that was the kitchen. They hadn't replaced the thinking cloth which made me strangely happy.
"Hey! Who spilled tea on my Wraith?" I exclaimed when I saw one of my best drawings covered in brown spots.
Like that, the tension was broken. George returned to his stew. Lockwood's cheeks pinked a little and he scratched the back of his head, revealing himself as the culprit. Holly shook her head and put the broccoli on the table before starting to fix things for tea. She automatically tidied up the vegetable peelings George had left behind as she waited for the water to boil.
Lockwood came over to me and held out a hand, prompting me to stand up.
"You know George's stew takes a while to cook."
I took his hand which was cold to the touch and he helped me up the stairs to my room. Holly had changed the sheets and put fresh flowers in a vase on the dresser. The window was open, and the combined scent of fresh air and new sheets was making me drowsy. I'd been told that I would still be sleeping a lot for the next few weeks.
I sat down on the bed and Lockwood went to sit on the chair next to it. He frowned when he saw Quill's Fittes t-shirt which Holly had folded and left there. He grabbed it with two fingers and put it on the floor before sitting down.
"Lucy I -" he started before interrupting himself. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Luce." He said softly.
I shook my head lightly. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I went of my own free will."
"I pushed it" he bit his lip. "I'm supposed to be the leader here -"
"Not my leader," I interrupted. "I'm still an independent operative." I don't know why that was so important to me to point out.
Lockwood huffed a small laugh "No, I suppose I'm not," he scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, "But to be honest I'd hoped that now that you're moving back in, you might consider coming back on the team as well. Permanently." He looked at me with that hopeful little smile, which was incredibly hard to resist.
I bit my lip. "I don't know, Lockwood. I would like to take some time to think about it."
He frowned and gave a little huff. "Is this because of Kipps?" his expression was somehow pinched, and he was breathing heavily. I hadn't seen him like this since I moved out. Which was ironic because I had just moved back in.
"I – why on earth would Quill have anything to do with it?"
He sighed heavily "I suppose he doesn't" he gave a thin-lipped smile, but he didn't look at me. "You should get some rest before dinner."
He patted my knee and left.
Needless to say, rest did not come easily.
...
Dinner was a strange affair. Lockwood pretended that everything was fine, and I went along with it. I just wanted to put the awkwardness behind us and start over. Unfortunately, there were some things we couldn't leave behind entirely.
"We need to talk about what happened with the Winkmans." I declared when we had finished eating.
Lockwood shifted in his seat in obvious discomfort.
I put a hand on his and gave it a small squeeze. "I mean the things we learned, not the things that went wrong. We need to find out where to go from here."
He gave me a small grateful smile.
"If you're still interested in helping me of course." I added
Lockwood scoffed and George looked at me like I had gone daft, which to be fair was a general expression of his, so it wasn't much different from usual.
Holly shook her head and got up to clean the plates off the table.
"Of course, we'll help, Luce." Lockwood said softly.
"Good. Because I think things could be more complicated than we thought." I looked around at each of them seriously.
"I realised who that man was – from the backroom with the Sources. I knew I'd seen him before – his name is Johnson. As far as I understand, he works at Rotwell Institute." I looked at Holly, who frowned.
Lockwood looked at her too. "What do you know, Hol?" He leaned forwards with his elbows on the table.
"That's probably Saul Johnson. He's one of the directors of the institute, but the institute is rather separate from the rest of the organisation. How do you know him?" Holly asked.
"I told you about that case with the mummified head I was on for Rotwell. I had Farnaby as a Supervisor," Lockwood made a face, "But this Johnson fellow was there as well. Would that be normal Rotwell procedure? I haven't worked with them before."
Holly frowned. "No, I haven't heard of anything like that. As I said, the institute is separate. They have their own research facilities and their own laboratories."
"So, they have facilities outside Regent Street?" Lockwood questioned. I could see the cogs turning and his excitement gradually returning.
Holly nodded eagerly "Yes, Regent Street is just the main office. The research facilities are all outside London."
"Lucy, what did Johnson do when you were at that case?" George asked as he stood to reach the biscuit tin.
I sighed, trying to remember. "It was as if he was supervising Farnaby. Farnaby was certainly put out that Johnson had witnessed that we – or rather I hadn't followed protocol." I huffed when I recalled the memory. The irritation came right back along with it.
Lockwood grinned at me. Maybe coming back wouldn't be such a bad idea. At least I wouldn't have to work with people like Farnaby.
"Farnaby did say something though," I remembered. "He thought that Johnson would have been interested in working with the Source at the Institute, but Johnson said that he couldn't take it back with him because of the new DEPRAC-regulations that say that all Type Two's had to be destroyed…" I trailed off. The implications were staggering.
George cleared his throat. "Do you remember when Kipps," George's eyes darted to Lockwood whose eyes narrowed a fraction, "when Kipps told us that Barnes wasn't his own man?"
"Johnson couldn't take the Source with him, but he didn't seem too torn up about it. Of course, he wasn't because he knew he would see it again later." I said hollowly "Those papers he had wasn't for supervising Farnaby. He was making a bloody shopping list."
I gratefully accepted when George offered me a biscuit. Holly had put the kettle on and stood leaning against the kitchen counter with a deep frown. Not a typical expression for her.
George continued. "Rotwell influences DEPRAC and they make new regulations that state that all type two's have to be destroyed immediately, only they have Winkman's people collect the Sources through corrupt furnace workers and they gather more Sources through the relic-men."
"What the hell do they need all those Sources for?" I asked, not expecting an answer, but George was quick to deliver, nonetheless.
"Do you remember the hissy fit Kipps threw because Rotwell agents arrived at the bone chamber underneath Aickmere's first?"
Lockwood nodded. "You're thinking that the Rotwell agents already knew where they were going?"
"Either that or they were alerted automatically as soon as we called DEPRAC." George shrugged.
"DEPRAC has a mole." Lockwood concluded.
George snorted "If I'm right, and I usually am, DEPRAC is one giant molehill. We can't trust anyone."
"There, George. You see? If this really is true, the worst we could have done would have been to call DEPRAC about the relic-men and lean back." Lockwood slapped his hand against the table.
"Sure, Lockwood. You win that argument" George rolled his eyes.
Lockwood winced. "I sort of wish I hadn't."
Holly put down tea for each of us. "I think we should get to the bottom of this." She said with a small voice, staring at the table. "I can make a list of the different Rotwell facilities I know."
"Something entirely different we need to talk about," I had to add to the doom and gloom, "is that Adelaide Winkman along with several relic-men and Johnson escaped from Vauxhall. With Julius in prison and Leopold still in a coma, Adelaide will be on the warpath. I don't think that any one of us should be alone."
Lockwood scratched his neck and frowned in contemplation. "That might prove hard, Luce. You're not ready to get back in the field yet. I'm not taking any more chances, but at the same time, we have several cases lined up. Some of them could probably be taken care of by two members of the team, but some of the harder ones will definitely need three agents."
"I don't need to hinder the team, Lockwood. I could come with you on cases and stay in an iron circle!" I argued.
George snorted. "Yes, because you have such a great history of following orders and staying put."
I felt myself going a bit pink.
"Maybe she could stay with Kipps." Holly suggested. I blinked in surprise.
Lockwood spluttered. He had just taken a sip of his tea and it had dribbled all the way down his front.
George coughed in order to cover his laugh.
"Lucy can't –" Lockwood started, but Holly lifted a hand to cut him off.
"Just when we're out on cases. Considering the fact that he's effectively saved her twice now, I believe that he has proved that he can be trusted to protect Lucy." She argued. Lockwood scoffed.
"He also isn't working for Fittes anymore, so he won't be going out on cases and will have plenty of time to spend with her." She continued and lifted an eyebrow at Lockwood, as if daring him to give her a good counterargument. He looked at Holly as if she had somehow betrayed him.
Normally I would have balked at people talking about me as if I wasn't there, but while Holly made sense, I also knew that with the way Lockwood had been reacting lately as soon as anyone even dared to mention Quill, I wouldn't have had the courage to do it myself.
Eventually, Lockwood sighed heavily. "It's up to you, Luce. What do you want to do?"
"I'm not sure," I pursed my lips, weighing my options. There weren't a lot of them.
Lockwood's eyes softened. "Don't say no because I'm being silly."
"Well," I shrugged, "he did write that he bought a new sofa."
…
It had been a nice first evening back. The only thing that dampened my spirit was the way Lockwood ran hot and cold. I felt like I was walking on eggshells and it was exhausting to have to censor everything I said. While he could just barely come to terms with the idea of me staying with Quill out of necessity, it was clear that mentioning him in a friendly context was a bad idea. I didn't like that their old rivalry had started back up, even if it seemed to be one-sided. We could accomplish so much more if we worked together. I supposed Quill having to come to the rescue put a dent in Lockwood's pride.
Pride would have to take the backseat though, because the next morning the newspaper arrived with a headline showing that the people after us meant business.
BREAK-IN AT HOSPITAL: Two nurses killed
Two nurses – two of the ones who had cared for me for a week, had been killed the night before. Their photos were printed directly beneath the headline. They had been found, stuffed inside in a store-cupboard with their throats slit.
If it hadn't been an attempt, it was definitely a message.
I looked at Lockwood after reading it. I was close to crying; this was my fault. If I hadn't been there, these two women would most certainly still be alive. Holly hugged me from the side, but Lockwood wouldn't look at me.
He sighed heavily, "Call Kipps. We have a case tonight." Was all he said before leaving the kitchen. He went downstairs. I imagined Floating Joe wouldn't stay alive much longer.