Helen smiled to herself as she regarded the fruits of her labour. The entire room was decked out in bright orange streamers, orange and yellow presents stacked in one corner and, the icing on the cake, so to speak, was the giant chocolate cake slathered with orange icing that sat in the centre of the table.
Everything was ready.
It had taken her weeks to prepare it all, trying her best to keep everything hidden. It wasn't every day that her little girl hit the big double digits after all.
The guests had been sworn to secrecy, the gifts had all been wrapped in matching paper and the day was going to go from high to high. Starting with cake for breakfast, a much lusted after treat apparently.
Helen had managed a few small miracles in bringing together this birthday party, the least of which was hiding upstairs in the room beside Ashley's. Uncle Jamie had flown in especially, arms laden with gifts of all shapes and sizes for his favourite niece. Watching them interact always made Helen's heart throb with in a very peculiar, there was something very touching about how James doted on Ashley and, even though it sometimes made Helen wish she'd allowed James to play the father as he'd so pleaded, she wouldn't change a thing about the way they loved one another.
Sharing Ashley with her boys had always been something of a dream for Helen. It seemed almost unfair that those who had made up such a large portion of her very long life shouldn't get to meet the most important thing she'd ever done in that very long life.
At least she had James, she reminded herself before straightening a cluster of balloons beside the door.
He was Helen's birthday present to Ashley in many ways. He was staying for just over a month and Helen had every intention of taking at least two thirds of that time off. With Ashley on summer holidays, it seemed the perfect time for them both to take a step back from work. After all, she had it on good authority that James was almost as tied to the job as she was.
Chuckling at the thought of the look on James' face when she announced that they'd have sweets for breakfast today, Helen set off towards her daughter's bedroom.
She paused outside the door, smoothing down her white sundress before knocking softly. She didn't expect Ashley to still be asleep but she had promised to stay in her room until Helen came to fetch her.
When the door didn't fly open to expose an over excited 10 year old, dressed in her most favouritest skirt (she was such a girly girl sometimes, it made Helen laugh), Helen pushed open the door tentatively.
"Ashley?" she asked. "Are you up yet, sweetie? Don't tell me you've forgotten what day it is!"
But there was no response. Skin prickling in alarm, Helen opened the door fully and stepped into the messy room.
"Ashley?" she called again. The bed was unmade (as per usual) and her pyjamas thrown over the end of her bed (as per usual) but there was no sign of the girl which was unusual. Ashley, for all her tenacity, listened when Helen asked her to stay put. They'd come to a sort of hidden language not too long ago where Ashley had learnt that when she was asked to stay put, she really ought to.
Rampaging abnormals really helped enforce the point.
Something about this didn't seem right to Helen. Even if Ashley had disobeyed her, she'd have come to the kitchen or Helen's room or...
Perhaps she'd found James.
Turning on her heel, Helen stalked down the corridor, heart beating frantically. She didn't even knock on James' door, simply tossing it open. He was only partially dressed but she didn't bat an eye.
"Is Ashley with you?"
"No," he said slowly, drawing out the word. "Why?"
"She's not in her room."
In half a second he had thrown on his shirt, and rushed to her side.
"Come," he ordered, striding back towards Ashley's room as he fastened his shirt of the chest plate of the device that kept him alive. He took her hand as they stepped into Ashley's room, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.
"Ashley," he called, looking about. "Ashley, darling?"
They got no response and Helen clung to his hand a little bit tighter. He stood absolutely still for a moment, observing the room as only he could. When he chuckled softly, anger began to rise in Helen's stomach. Turning to tell him off for being so cavalier about it all, she was shocked to find him smiling at her indulgently.
"It's a good thing you weren't the detective of the group," he said, shaking his head. "She's received a letter." James nodded towards the centre of Ashley's unmade bed where, lo and behold, a torn envelope lay.
"But that doesn't tell us where she is," Helen said curtly. The fear bubbling away in her stomach wasn't dissipating as James clearly had thought it would.
"I'm sure she hasn't gone far," he said, patting her hand. The condescending tone had Helen just about to hit him.
Yanking her hand free, Helen turned on her heel and strode to the nearest elevator.
"You start with the attic, I'll begin in the catacombs," she growled over her shoulder at James. "Tell anyone you come across that the party-"
"Helen?"
"-is postponed until further notice."
"Helen?"
"I'll check the security cameras too and-"
"Helen?"
"-if you could go ask Henry to help us find her-"
"Helen!"
"Stop interrupting me!"
"I found Ashley."
Spinning back to face him, Helen blanched, before dashing back to his side. James stood by the window, smug smirk in place. He took her hand, pulling her close as he pointed to a small, orange speck dancing about on the lawns.
Helen laughed in spite of herself and relaxed against James' chest.
"What on earth is she doing?" James asked.
"Possibly dancing," Helen supplied easily.
"No, look, there's something metallic. It keeps catching the sunlight."
"Did you give her an early present?" she asked absently. "I made Henry promise that he wouldn't this year."
"No, I have a few pieces tucked away to give her tonight when everything else has died down."
"I suggest I go practice my detective skills then," she said with a smile, taking his hand again as they made their way to the elevator.
As they stepped out into the brilliant sunshine, Helen couldn't help but smile at the sound of her daughter's joyous laughter.
She was wearing her very favourite skirt and a white shirt that already had a few grass stains on it with some sort of necklace Helen had never seen before. It was a dark metal, almost bronze but with hints of gold and silver threaded through it. It bumped against her chest as she sprinted across the grass towards Helen and James.
"UNCLE JAMIE!" Ashley half screamed, launching herself into his arms with a laugh. James caught her easily, swinging her around in a circle.
"Happy birthday, beautiful," he said, giving her a swift kiss to the cheek.
"This is the best birthday ever," she said happily, looking over to Helen as she snuggled into James' arms. "Thank you for the presents, Mom."
"I haven't given you your presents yet," Helen replied, bemused. "But I do like your necklace, where did you get it?"
Ashley frowned, fingering the metal.
"The letter you gave me said to come down here though..." she said, looking up to Helen, perplexed.
"Show me the letter," Helen said cautiously. Ashley wiggled about until James put her down before she ran across the lawn. Helen and James followed quickly and Ashley turned at their approach, offering a beaten piece of paper to them along with a small white rose, trimmed of all thorns.
"It was on my bed this morning," Ashley said. "The handwriting is all... scrolly like yours."
James chuckled at the comment as he studied the paper but Helen was more transfixed by the rose. Surely Rosie wouldn't simply drop by and not actually say hello...
"It's not her," James breathed before showing her the note. "Look familiar to you?"
She scanned her eyes over the note and swallowed before nodding.
"Then why the rose?" Helen asked softly.
"To throw us off maybe?"
"But are you sure he's even..."
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"Well?" Ashley suddenly burst in. "Who gave it to me?"
Helen and James shared a look before Helen smiled.
"We aren't sure, darling. But the necklace is very pretty and I think we ought to put this lovely flower in your hair, don't you?"
Ashley narrowed her eyes, playing with the tail end of her long braid.
"It's not just a necklace," she said, still regarding her mother cautiously. "Look."
Suddenly she turned, holding one arm out to the side as the other rose to fiddle with her necklace. There was a beat before, out of nowhere, something shiny was flying straight towards them. And it was literally flying. As it got closer to them, Helen could see wings flapping and, as it came to a gentle stop on Ashley's outstretched arm, the thing even cooed.
"Well, there's our answer," James said softly. "A damn pigeon..."
The creature was purely mechanical, the bronzed wings shining in the sunlight as it shifted about on Ashley's arm. The girl petted its back gently and it cooed again, pressing its head back against her hand. The soft hiss of joints and cogs beneath the polished exterior was the only real proof that it wasn't a real bird now nuzzling against Ashley's cheek.
"Isn't he lovely," Ashley said softly, looking up to Helen and James with glowing eyes. "He does tricks too and all I need to do is press on the necklace and he comes back to me."
Carefully, so as not to disrupt the bird, she turned to properly face Helen, allowing Helen the chance to properly inspect the bird and necklace.
"How beautiful," Helen said, kneeling on the ground to watch the bird better.
And then, all of a sudden, the bird shifted back, pointing its tiny beak towards Helen as it began to sing a very familiar song. It was one from her youth, a song her mother used to sing as she sewed in the morning room. In fact, it was the very first song Helen ever learnt to play on the piano. She felt James' hand land on her shoulder as tears pricked her eyes.
Then, when she was certain the bird had shown off the best of its gifts, the necklace slowly began to open. Ashley, allowing the now silent pigeon to climb up to her shoulder carefully reached into the locket and pulled out a curled up piece of paper along with a small square of card.
Her eyes wizzed over the paper before she handed it to Helen, focusing instead on the square.
You look just like your mother.
"You're so pretty," Ashley said softly, tracing a finger over the square. Helen shifted so she could see it, taken aback by the clarity of the picture. It was an old one, one she remembered having taken but it had been so long since she'd seen it. Nikola had taken it when she wasn't paying attention with his self devised camera. This piece had been cut from a larger one for Helen knew that the arm around her waist as she laughed heartily belonged to John but it still contained her smiling face and James'.
"She does look just like you," James offered, smiling down.
"I wish my hair was curly like that," Ashley said with a heavy sigh, drawing a laugh from Helen.
"Well," she said, standing and holding a hand out to her daughter, "perhaps today we'll curl your hair then."
Ashley wrinkled her nose.
"With those hot things? Nah-uh."
"Come on birthday girl," Helen said with a laugh. "It's time for breakfast cake."
The squeal her statement received made James groan but Helen was unable to keep from grinning. Today was going to be a good day.
Sorry for the delay, this one slipped my mind!
xx
