4.
Gus stared absently at Professor Murphy as he droned on about today's lesson in philosophy. He reflected upon the events of the past week as he tapped his pencil softly on his desk. He had spent so long staring at every angle of that bridge that he'd nearly been late to his afternoon classes. After classes, he'd been summoned by Inspector Poole to give his statements about the events in the alley.
The inspector had clearly been frustrated by his capabilities as a witness, since Gus had barely seen anything before the explosion. The inspector had stared suspiciously at Gus all throughout the interrogation process. Thankfully, Gus had had the benefit of the meticulousness of English bureaucrats, whose thorough records proved Gus's whereabouts prior to entering the alley that night. The university clerk had even looked deeply offended when Inspector Poole had barely suggested that his records might be the least bit inaccurate. In the end, the Inspector Poole had to concede that it was highly unlikely that the murderer would then incapacitate himself in the alley. But since the most that Gus could provide in the way of information was "a cloaked man", the inspector had clearly been irritated when dismissing him.
After that, Gus had tracked down Alan to drag him to the pub. That had allowed Gus to tell his classmate about the events of the prior night while also providing an excuse to check in on the mysterious barmaid. Unfortunately, his secondary efforts proved fruitless, since the girl was absent. He had tried casually asking Alan about Lucy, but if anything, Alan was even more clueless about the girl than Gus himself was, if that was possible. Despite having spent a year more than Gus in the town of Oxford, Alan had never taken notice of the deformed village girl working in the local pub. After a few beers, Alan had been much more interested in telling Gus about the attractive and buxom girl that lived near the church down the street.
Over the following days, Gus had returned to the pub several times and learned a few tidbits about Lucy, but she had not returned since that first night. Mistress Parker had been unconcerned and airily remarked that it happened from time to time. Sometimes Lucy would disappear for days at a time, but she had always come back eventually.
While he had found it somewhat frustrating at the time, this morning Gus had realized that in a way he appreciated the difficulties in tracking her down. In Professor Firmin's French class this morning, Gus realized that the furtive glances and whispered gossip had subsided. It would be a lie to say he hadn't noticed the continued attention during this time, but he had paid it little mind due to his determination to find out more about the singing barmaid.
Unfortunately, Professor Firmin himself continued to have a strange preoccupation with Gus. Had it not been for that first day, he would have assumed the instructor appreciated his proficiency with the language. But that first day made it impossible for him to ignore that aside from sharp disdain, none of Professor Firmin's facial expressions ever reached his eyes while looking at Gus. No matter what he was saying or doing, when his gaze fell on Gus, there was always that icy glare.
Luckily, Professor Murphy's class usually allowed Gus to resettle himself for the day. Gareth Murphy was friendly and engaging. He maintained an orderly classroom, but also kept a good atmosphere among his students. Even earlier in the week, before they had moved on to other distractions, Gus had not been subjected to any whispers or furtive glances in this particular class. For that, he was exceedingly thankful.
But in spite of his affection for Professor Murphy's class, Gus found his mind wandering today. And it continued in the following Mathematics course. He was simply unable to focus on his instructors, aside from Professor Firmin who he fervently wished he could ignore. As his last morning class was ending, Gus was about to go check the bridge that continued to occupy his thoughts when a familiar hand slapped down on his desk.
"Il est le hor du ... lunch."
Gus's reverie was shattered by the truly awful display of what his friend Alan called French. It was only a week ago that he wondered how someone with a full year under his belt was sharing a class with him. Now, although the question was the same, he found himself instead wondering how someone with a full year of prior teaching was still this terrible.
"Tu es bête," Gus replied while turning to his friend.
"I am not stupid," Alan snarled.
"Lucky guess."
Alan's angry expression quickly melted into a grin and he began laughing as Gus rose from his seat and shouldered his bag.
"So what shall we eat? I agreed to try to improve your clearly abysmal French, but I have no intent to play housewife and cook for you besides."
"Come on, don't be like that. Just the other day I saw the prettiest apron. It had some lace accents that would make you the envy of all the girls in town. Why your elusive tavern maid might even come looking for you, for tips on how to win the heart of a man as sought after as myself."
"You are quite the catch."
"It's true. Looks, money, intelligence, I truly do have too many desirable features."
"I can only imagine how disappointed all the village girls are whenever they find out they can never take you away from your true love, yourself."
They both laughed as they walked to a nearby cafe that Alan pointed out. They settled down at a small wooden table and ordered some tea and sandwiches. A small teapot and two porcelain cups were delivered to their table. Alan poured himself a full cup of the warm liquid and added some sugar while gently stirring the liquid. Gus gave his head a small shake. He wasn't really surprised that his friend didn't have the patience to let the tea steep properly, but he couldn't help but show his disapproval. Alan ignored the small wave of disdain and leaned back holding his cup. He took a small sip before glancing over his cup at his lunch companion.
"So, speaking of women…" Alan began.
"Were we?"
"Seeing as we're between classes at the moment, it's either that or money. Or you can eat alone," Alan replied with a smirk.
Gus shrugged helplessly. He really did think that Alan could probably do with more work on his French before he returned to Firmin's classroom, but he wasn't really in the mood to tutor right now anyway.
"So get this," Alan continued. "I heard from some of the lads that your bridge is kind of haunted. Apparently there's this local legend about a banshee that shows up at that bridge some nights glowing and wailing. I guess a long time ago they found some guy dead on the bank of the water and since then, there's been stories of a siren leading people to their deaths in the water like in the Odyssey or something."
Gus gave him a skeptical look as he reached for the teapot.
"I'm not saying I believe that nonsense," Alan added hurriedly. "But it is an interesting story don't you think? A ghostly woman singing by the water and then disappearing. Maybe your missing barmaid is… a ghoooooooost."
Gus returned a flat look as he removed the tea basket from the pot. He poured himself a cup and nodded with satisfaction at the thicker brown color of the translucent liquid filling his cup.
"Do you know how long that legend has been around?"
Alan shrugged. "I don't remember hearing about anyone getting fished out of that stream last year, so I figure it must be more than a year at least."
"Did you hear anything about it last year?"
"No, but I don't usually go looking for fairy tales about strange women inhabiting the local bridge, nor do I have your family's ear for music."
"I'm certain my father will be glad to hear I've become acquainted with someone so pragmatic and adept at more practical matters. Sometimes I think he has a love-hate relationship with my mother's gift," Gus remarked pensively. "I've heard some rumors about her debut in Paris, but neither of them talk about it much. That also seemed to involve a ghost story come to think of it. A homicidal spectre, haunting the Palais Garnier." Gus trailed off, wondering if Professor Firmin might have been around the Opera House at that time. It seemed like a stretch for a French instructor to not only have been there, but also know the Viscount de Chagny. But it might help explain how he knew Gus's parents.
Gus was tapping the saucer for his teacup idly, lost in thought, when Alan quite literally snapped him out of his reverie. Gus blinked at the hand stretched out in front of his face. In an instant, the hand spun around and a finger flicked his forehead. He was momentarily stunned by the impertinent action, but Alan calmly drew his hand back to rest by his teacup as if he hadn't just broken decorum. Gus glared at the fellow across the table, consciously willing himself to not rub at the stinging spot on his forehead.
"So how would you like to help me find a ghost?" Gus asked while forcing a smile to his face.
Alan grinned mischievously as sandwiches were placed on the table. Both of the young men ate their lunch and talked about other things going on within their classes. A short time later they completed their meal and agreed to meet up again in a few hours before heading their separate ways for their afternoon schedules.
For the next several hours, Gus made his best effort to pay attention to his instructors and not let himself get distracted by the plans he had made for that evening. Luckily, the lessons were none too strenuous that day, so they passed uneventfully and he soon found himself waving to some classmates as he walked back towards his dorm.
Alan's cricket practice would keep him busy for a while yet, so Gus had time to put away his books and sort himself out before wandering around at dusk. He laid down on the bed and stared at his ceiling. He let his mind wander back to Professor Firmin. Maybe the man had once worked at the old opera house before it had caught fire. From what he knew, his parents had been there, but the man had to be mad if he was blaming them for that. His mother had only been a performer, and his father had just been a patron, not the theater manager. The man should have demanded satisfaction from whoever had been running the place rather than holding a grudge against two people who happened to be in the same place during a terrible incident.
Gus suddenly had an idea for a better way to spend his time. He left the dorms and after a short walk found himself at the university library. He made a few polite inquiries and soon made his way to a section where newspapers were neatly stacked in large piles. He was glad to see that the items were well organized and it didn't take long to narrow his search to a few stacks. He didn't know the exact date, but considering what he knew of his family's relocation and his parents wedding, he felt there was a certain range that should reliably give him an idea of where to look. The librarian asked Gus to limit himself to 5 items at a time, so he picked up a month's worth of Sunday editions of 20 years ago and started carefully scanning through them.
Over an hour passed as Gus continued the laborious process of claiming a stack of papers, taking them to a table, reading through them, exchanging them for another stack and then repeating the process. Gus was thankful that he had at least identified sections of the paper that could be totally ignored. That had sped his process considerably after the first few copies, but there were still a lot of items to search through, especially since he wasn't even certain of the time frame he was looking for.
Gus was starting to question the task he'd set for himself when he noticed an article about a fire in Paris at the Palais Garnier. The specific article he had found was not very informative, but it gave him some information to refine his search. The article mentioned news of a scandal at the Paris Opera House a week prior. Police were still investigating the incident, but there had been a few murders and extensive damage to the facility. Gus was about to inquire about other periodicals from the same time, but was stopped by a soft chime from the nearby clock. He only had a short time before he was to meet with Alan again. So, Gus gathered up all of the papers he had been reading through and rearranged them in their neat and, orderly stack before returning them to the librarian. He thanked him for his assistance and walked briskly to the exit.
Feeling invigorated that he may finally get some answers about something, Gus set out with long strides for the nearby cricket field. After a short walk he approached to find Alan sitting on the ground with his equipment piled up beside him.
"Practice ended a while ago, where have you been?" Alan asked.
"I had a few things to take care of. Besides, I didn't want the team thinking you had a creepy stalker that had some weird obsession with you."
"You're right, much better to keep that to yourself. That way you can sneak up on your rivals."
Gus held out a hand to help his friend up. Alan accepted the gesture and pulled himself off the ground before moving to pick up his gear. They made a brief stop at the nearby market to buy some bread and fruit before walking toward the bridge where Gus had last seen Lucy. The sun was beginning to dip under the trees lining the stream. Gus pointed to a nearby clump of bushes and they sat down near them. At their current location, they would have a decent view of the bridge, while also being partly obscured from anyone who might be standing on or near it. Gus had no real idea what to expect at the moment, so this seemed as good a place to wait as any. Alan took the opportunity to break off some bread and hungrily bit into the large piece in his hand. When Gus turned to look at him, Alan offered the remaining loaf so that Gus could tear a piece off for himself, but he shook his head and turned back to the bridge.
After they had been sitting for about ten minutes, Alan took a break from his meal to ask, "so what are we looking for exactly?"
Gus's brow furrowed as he answered, "I'm not really sure." He grinned ruefully, before adding, "but I'll know when I see it."
Alan snorted before picking up an apple and taking a large bite out of it.
"Have you figured out what you're going to do, or say if we actually see this person?"
"I don't know," Gus replied honestly.
"Maybe you should try writing her a letter first. If she's already run away from you twice she may have the wrong idea about you. You should probably worry more about this girl seeing you as a creepy stalker, and less how a team of jocks might think of you."
"I just want to talk to her. She should be doing so much more than just cleaning some random pub in a country town. Honestly I'm not even sure if she can read. So we're here, to make sure she'll at least hear me out."
Alan shrugged before finishing off the apple in his hand. He tossed the core over his shoulder and laid down with his hands behind his head. It had been a long day and he figured he could get some rest while keeping his friend company. The sky was starting to turn purple as the sun dropped lower beyond the horizon. The sun itself wasn't even visible from where he laid, and stars would soon be scattered in the sky above. He had many doubts about the likelihood of success of their current plan, but he also knew that he could easily rest on the soft grass. If Gus wanted to spend all night waiting for a mysterious girl to magically appear by the water, then Alan figured it was simpler to just let him waste his time.