I've actually uploaded this last Sunday on AO3, but then I forgot to upload it here as well... .
Anyway, here's a super late little side story chapter for Cedric's birthday (March 25). I hope you like it!
Side Story 1:
The Poker Game
Countryside, England, United Kingdom – March 1848
"Countess, I truly appreciate it that you are inviting me to a restaurant on my birthday – but what are we doing on a train to Brighton?" Cedric wanted to know when they boarded the train.
"I was just given the address of an important informant," Cloudia told him, guiding him to their compartment. Even now, during breakfast time, the train was fairly full, and the first-class wagons were no exceptions. "He's the person, the only person, who knows where Julian Curnow is hiding. Do you remember?"
"Oh, yes, of course. But why are going to see him today of all days? Can't this wait until tomorrow?"
"It cannot wait until tomorrow because we have to be quick; if Curnow learns that we found out about the informant, he will certainly escape and all our efforts will be wasted," Cloudia said. She opened the door to their compartment and sat down. "Also, the informant will not be at the same place for twenty-four hours as he has a job outside of gathering intelligence."
Julian Curnow was a dirty, little but, unfortunately, very capable thief who had been terrorising various noble families for the past few weeks. When Scotland Yard was unable to catch him, the case was handed over to Cloudia. And thanks to the Met's incapability, my birthday plans were put on hold. I had been so looking forward to today. Last year, Cloudia and I had done nothing as we had barely known each other at that time and I had not even bothered to inform her about my birthday. I had only told her when she asked about it after I had arrived uninvited and unannounced at her birthday party. But now, we knew each other quite well, and this would make this whole affair infinitely more enjoyable than the half-awkward brunch we could have had last year.
All I wanted was to have a nice birthday for a change – not to travel to Brighton to meet some informant.
Pouting, Cedric let himself fall onto the bench. "Damn Curnow. Damn short lunch breaks. Another question, Countess, why did we have to take Miss Greene with us again?" he asked, glancing to the maid. Usually, she would be in a lower-class wagon, but as they had to move quickly and did not have time to tediously seek one another on the platform afterwards, Cloudia had allowed Lisa to join her and Cedric in their cabin.
"I am here because I am needed. You are only here because Al has a cold, and Lady Cloudia could not find a babysitter for you in a trice," Lisa told Cedric, folding her arms in front of her.
Cloudia sighed. "The aforementioned informant, Mr Cager Castello, does not take any money in exchange for intelligence. Gathering information is not his occupation. Apparently, it's only something he is good at – all he finds out 'naturally' comes to him. Castello has a booth on the Royal Suspension Chain Pier where you can meet him and ask for information, but he will only give it to you if you beat him at a card game called poker."
"He sounds like such a weird person. 'I will tell you all you desire if you beat me at a card game!' And you cannot tell me that 'Cager' is his real first name," Cedric said.
She shrugged. "Apparently it is. I'm not quite sure, and it does not matter anyway. Poker is based on various European card games, but the game itself is American and, therefore, not very well known here. It's not even a very well-known game in America! It is only gradually spreading there since the early 1800s. Cager Castello comes from America – New Orleans to be precise – and is very well-versed in the game. I've heard that Castello will gladly teach you its rules though. He seems to want nothing but a good game of poker – a good, fair game. Castello is also a very adept combatant who does not like it when someone cheats and, or tries to destroy his booth out of anger due to losing the game."
"'Cager' is most definitely not his name," Cedric declared. "Now – what have his idiosyncrasies to do with Miss Greene?"
Lisa rolled her eyes. "I've already told you that I am here because I am needed, and if you had listened to Lady Cloudia, you would have figured out that I am needed because someone with knowledge of poker is necessary: And this someone is I. I know how to play poker."
"Lisa, you have to excuse him: It is not his fault that he is a bit slow, especially considering that he still hasn't eaten yet," said Cloudia.
Cedric raised an eyebrow at Lisa. "You know how to play poker?"
"Yes, she does," Cloudia said. "You should see Thomas cry every time they arrange a game night. Lisa is unbeatable when it comes to games, especially card games. And she likes finding out about more and trying out new games."
"You are allowed to come next time." Lisa grinned at Cedric. "If you dare."
"I am deeply sorry to disappoint you, Miss Greene, but I pass. I have no inclination to learn this wretched game – wretched as it is one of the factors delaying my birthday activities with the Countess." Cedric turned to Cloudia. "For how long did you reserve the table?"
"For the entire day," said Cloudia, her words like music in his ears. "I thought that would be the best thing to do, considering how infatuated with eating you are."
"For once, I am absolutely and eternally grateful for your ridiculous planning, Countess."
She shook her head. "Come, we have to get off now."
Brighton, England, United Kingdom – March 1848
Cager Castello's wooden booth was, in fact, not located on the Chain Pier, but right beneath it on the beach. It was a curious little thing rising completely out of place from the sand. A few metres away, people were enjoying the mild, thankfully rainless weather and the salty sea breeze. A few metres above, people were shouting and working or enjoying the attractions that were available on the pier and not hidden underneath it.
It was such an odd place to have a booth, even a booth not meant for the general public – after all if Cager wanted to keep away from the normal attractions, why did he not open his little side business somewhere else entirely? His booth might not be on the Chain Pier, but it was still rather conspicuous.
At least, Cager was still in his booth when Cedric, Cloudia, and Lisa arrived. Poker Master Castello was written on the booth's top and on the side, there was a sign that said: I am not always here, but when I am, feel free to play a few rounds with me. Experts and first-time players are welcome. No money charged. Only poker and a nice chat.
Cloudia knocked against the blue-white booth. "Mr Castello?"
Cager Castello looked up from the book he had been reading and smiled at them through the booth's window. He had thick, curly dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin and seemed to be in his late thirties or early forties.
"How can I help you, young lady?" he asked with a distinctively American accent.
"My name is Lady Cloudia Phantomhive, and I am here because I need information on Julian Curnow, Mr Castello," Cloudia answered.
A crooked smile appeared on his face and his green eyes lit up. "I hope you know that I do not give information away for free."
"Yes, I know about the poker game."
"Wonderful!" Cager exclaimed and closed his battered book. "I haven't played a round in a while." He stood up. "Wait for a second, I will open the door for you… It's kind of crammed in here, but you will still fit. And don't worry – I clean regularly."
Cloudia shook her head. "It's not me who will play." She looked at Lisa. "She will."
Lisa grinned, and Cager laughed. "Nobles as you, Mylady, rarely come to me, and when they do I always hope that they themselves will play! But, no, no, it's always the lackey."
"I am a handmaiden, not a lackey," said Lisa, scowling at him.
"Oh, pardon," he said and vanished in his booth. A moment later, he opened the door and waved her inside. "Please enter, Miss Handmaiden."
"It's Miss Greene."
"Miss Greene, then."
Lisa rolled her eyes and stepped inside the booth.
"Unfortunately, there's only space for two here," Cager told Cloudia and Cedric after he had closed his booth door again and reappeared at the window. "And even more unfortunately, I do not have any spare chairs – people keep breaking them in their anger and I can never keep up rebuying chairs. I am sorry, Lady Phantomhive and…" He turned to Cedric. "Oh, I forgot to ask: Who are you?"
"Kristopher Underwood."
Cager nodded. "Ah, hi. How are you doing? I hope you don't mind standing? Standing can be fun as well."
"I don't mind standing."
"That's good!"
"I do mind the sand fluttering upon us though." Cedric looked up to the Chain Pier.
"Sorry, I cannot help you with that. I suggest wearing a hat. Do you have one?"
"No."
"Well, that's unfortunate." Cager turned to Cloudia who had crossed her arms. "How about you, Mylady? Do you mind standing?"
"It's fine," said Cloudia, tipping her fingers on her elbow. "Mr Castello, I would sincerely appreciate it if you were to begin now. We do not have all day."
"Ah, I see, you are an impatient bunch. Well, then – who wants tea?" Cager laughed. "Just joking! Miss Greene, do you know the game rules? Yes? Fabulous! We shall start, then, right?"
They had gone to Brighton in the morning, and they were still there when it turned one o'clock and Cager announced that it was time for him to go to his actual work. Four hours of standing on the beach. Cedric was hungry, tired, and if he had not been so fixated on the rounds and rounds of poker Cager and Lisa played, had he not been so invested in them, he certainly would have been bored to death as well. When Cloudia had told him to come to her townhouse early today, he definitely did not expect to spend a good portion of his day like this. Judging from Cloudia's and Lisa's expressions, they also had not expected this outcome.
"I am sorry," Cager said and collected the cards and tidied up the table. "You nearly had me in this last round, Miss Greene, and I would love to play another with you – I rarely get to play against skilled poker players – but my boss will fire me if I am late and I need this job."
Lisa pressed her lips together. It surely could not be pleasant to lose and lose after always winning. "It's fine, Mr Castello," she ultimately said.
"Don't be sad, Miss Greene. You are a truly good player. It was a good match." Cager held out his hand, and Lisa took it.
"It really was," she replied.
"It cannot be helped now," Cloudia started and sighed, "but when will you be back at your booth?"
Cager thought for a while. "Tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow? That will not work. We need to find out about Curnow's whereabouts today."
He shrugged. "I am sorry, Mylady, but my hands are bound."
"Let me talk to your boss."
"Nah. I don't tell anyone about my workplace. Don't want to bring trouble there, you know?"
"Can I write a letter which you can give him?"
"My boss is thoroughly unpleasant and would not care at all about what you have to say – noble or not. And if you tried bribing him, he would just take the money and make me work nonetheless."
"Where the hell are you working?" Cedric groaned.
"It's nothing illegal; my boss is simply a tyrant."
"Can't we give you something else in exchange?" asked Cloudia, and Cager shook his head. "It's poker and nothing else."
Cedric sighed. "It's my birthday today. Please. The Lady and I wanted to do something today, and our plans were stalled for hours."
"It's your birthday? Happy birthday, Mr Underwood! How old are you turning? Forty?" said Cager and Lisa, who was stepping out of the booth, chuckled.
Cedric scowled, and Cager laughed. "I'm only joking! You look ageless – like those creepy mannequins. You could be anything between eighteen and thirty-nine. Or seventy considering your hair colour…" He laughed again.
"How about we give you some information you want in exchange for the one we want?" suggested Cloudia.
"What could you possibly give me? I am an informant; gathering information is my speciality."
"It's mine as well. But like me, there has to be something you do not know. No one can know everything. Even the best of the best has to be ignorant in some kind of aspects. What don't you know, Mr Castello? What don't you know that you have always wanted to know?"
Cager was silent for a while and after glancing at a little clock in his booth, he sighed. "Very well. I will make an exception for you because your handmaiden played so grandiosely and entertained me better than anyone else who came to my booth in the last few years and because there is something I have been wondering about for quite some time. Something I found myself unable to find out on my own. It's not like I actively seek information – it comes to me. And as I am who I am, many doors to get certain kinds of information are closed to me.
"Nine years ago, I have made the first and, until now, the only exception to my rule. Back then, two young men came to my booth. Or, well, one young man and a boy. The young man seemed to be a nobleman; he never introduced himself to me, but he held yourself like you, Lady Phantomhive, and had the sort of careless atmosphere around him as only nobles have. But he's not very important; who is important is the boy.
"His name is Ignatius Freeman, and he did not say this, but, to me, it seemed as if he was this nobleman's lackey… He looked rather young, fourteen, fifteen maybe. He might have been slightly older, but he was quite short and looked childishly innocent with his fair hair and eyes hidden behind glasses that were a bit too large for him and I forgot to ask him about it, so I don't exactly know how old he was. Anyway, one day nine years ago, Ignatius and his master came to me because he needed some piece of information from me."
"What did he want to know?" asked Cloudia.
"It's a trade secret. I don't tell anyone about what others wanted to know from me. It does not matter anyway. What was so interesting about Ignatius was that he was really polite and incredibly stubborn. He lost to me when he first came to me – and for the next two weeks, he came to my booth every single day. When people lose and do not try to destroy my booth the first time around, they usually come once more and then try to beat me to a pulp. It never ends well for them, of course. But Ignatius was never angry; he tried again and again. And again and again, he lost. With every day, however, he did become better, and after two weeks, he was nearly as good as Miss Greene here. Of course, he still lost to me.
"Instead of seeming angry or upset or sad when he lost, Ignatius always shook my hand and congratulated me. Only after losing to me for two weeks straight, he finally looked sad, disheartened. It was only for a second before he smiled at me like always and extended his hand. I guess, he didn't want me to think that he tried to emotionally manipulate me or something like that and quickly concealed his emotions again. But I had already seen it. For two weeks, he practised every night and day – it was evident he did; for two weeks, he constantly lost and had to practice more and harder. I don't know why this piece of information was so important to Ignatius that he would give up his entire time for poker – I don't even know if it was important to him. For all I know, he could have been forced to do this. His master did not seem like a bad person but you can never know. I pitied the poor boy and decided to release him by telling him what he wanted to know. At first, Ignatius did not want to accept this and protested, but then, I simply told him everything.
"I didn't see him the next day, but a week later, he was back at my booth. This time, he had come alone, and instead of playing poker, he invited me to a picnic to show me his gratitude. Ignatius came to see me every few months, and we became friends. But then, a bit over a year later, he stopped visiting. I have not heard from him ever since 1840."
"So you want us to find out what became of your friend?" Cedric asked.
Cager nodded. "Exactly. I'm afraid I cannot tell you much about him besides what I've already told you and that, back then, he was living in London." He stood up and left his booth. "If you can find out what happened to Ignatius, come to the Chain Pier at four pm. I won't come down here, but I will be out there eating something because I have my break at that time," he told them while locking and closing his booth. "If you cannot make it or come empty-handed, the deal is broken and you can try your luck again tomorrow."
"We will be there with information on Ignatius Freeman's whereabouts or even the man himself if it can be arranged," Cloudia said.
"Such confidence!" Cager exclaimed before his face softened for a second. "I hope the kid's fine." With a final goodbye, Cager hurried away.
London, England, United Kingdom – March 1848
Upon returning to London, a very apologetic Lisa was sent back to the townhouse while Cedric and Cloudia took a hansom cab to the Strand.
"What are we going to do now? Leaving this whole Castello-Freeman affair to the rest of your Aristocrats and finally heading to the restaurant? Please tell me that's what we are going to do. We have lost so much time already and I need my daily dose of cake," Cedric said.
"It will take too long to contact them," Cloudia replied. "And don't worry: We will hurry. We will quickly go to Somerset House as the Registry of Births, Marriages, and Deaths has its office there and search for an Ignatius Freeman in the card index. It will be easier to find his current location when we possess the information on his birth registration certificate."
"What happens when we cannot find any information on him? After all, the Births and Deaths Registration Act was passed in 1836, and this Ignatius Freeman was apparently born in the 1820s. Despite the Act, people sometimes still don't register their children, and before, it was even worse. There is no guarantee that we will find him in the index."
"I'm impressed that you know this."
"It's about births and deaths – that's my job. Especially the latter part. What are we going to do if we cannot find him in the index? We live in a time in which you can live and die completely unknown and undetected – or live known and registered before simply vanishing. Ignatius seems to have vanished into thin air as well."
"People do not simply vanish. Just because it's not always easy finding any information on them and what happened to them, it does not mean that it's impossible to find anything. There's always someone who knows," replied Cloudia.
"But to every rule, there is an exception, Countess. What if he died all alone in a forest after aimlessly wandering around in it for days? Weeks? Nobody would ever know where his body is and what exactly occurred."
"Ignatius Freeman was seemingly employed. If we cannot find any information on him, we may find some on his former employer and he must certainly know at least if and when Ignatius left without returning."
"I am only saying that this may be completely futile. Castello may have knowingly given us an impossible task – perhaps Ignatius does not even exist at all! Perhaps they were not friends and Ignatius owes Castello money and that's the real reason why he wants him to be found?"
Cloudia sighed and took Cedric's hand. "I know that you are upset that we have to work on your birthday but please calm down. We will wrap this up quickly – I will make sure that you are going to get your cake. If we make an effort to find Ignatius Freeman now, we will have accomplished everything we had to do today: getting the information on Curnow and going to the restaurant. If we work only half-heartedly, we may waste an entire day without accomplishing anything, and if we push the Curnow matter away, we will not have a good time at the restaurant because we will only think about the failed case."
She was right. Of course, she was. Cloudia had reserved a table for the entire day; she had made plans for my birthday today – the sudden development in the Curnow Case troubled her just as much as it annoyed me. She had not brought me to Brighton and watched dozens of poker games because she had wanted to or because she had wanted to spite me. She had no other choice: Cloudia was stuck to do this because it was her duty; I had no right to whine like this. Cloudia never talked to me in-depth about her work, but I knew that, even after all those years, the Royal advisors did not treat her well. And who knew what she would get to hear again if she failed to catch a simple thief?
"Countess…" Cedric began to say, but Cloudia immediately raised her hand and cut him off.
"Don't," she said and stood up when the driver opened the carriage door. "Come, we should hurry."
Not many people knew about the Queen's Watchdog, but, apparently, the friendly man from the Registry of Births, Marriages, and Deaths did. Prioritising their request, the young man, Quirino Quario, quickly went through the archive, and while he systematically worked this way through the indices, he kept on talking and talking and talking. Even on the days when Cloudia was in a particularly good mood and gave him a lecture about a book or about something she had read in a book, she did not talk as fast as Quirino did. And while Cloudia was, at least, rather focused and kept her lecture neat and clean, Quirino spoke about everything that came to his mind, no matter how nonsensical, no matter how disorganised and confusing it was. In one moment, Quirino told them about his older brother; in the next, he said something about a wonderful idea he had about how to best get rid of a corpse before reciting a joke a friend of his told him a while ago. At least, Quirino worked as fast as he spoke, and after only fifteen minutes, he had found the information they needed – not that fifteen minutes had not been enough to completely exhaust Cedric.
Note to me: Never accompany Cloudia to Somerset House again. Or, at least, never to the Registry of Births, Marriages, and Deaths again.
Did Quirino even pause to breathe?
"That man is…" Cedric said when they had said goodbye to Quirino and went to leave the building. "I cannot even think of an adequate adjective to describe him."
Cloudia shrugged. "Quirino is very capable in his job and, despite everything, not a gossiper. That's all that matters to me."
"He is not a gossiper? I don't believe you, Countess."
"He is not. Even if he was, nobody can listen to him for very long when he gets as chatty as today. There's a reason why Quirino works alone."
"Ah, I have wondered about that. Now – what is on the document he gave you?"
"Wait a minute," Cloudia said and quickly read the document. At some point, her eyes widened for a second.
"And?" Cedric asked when she looked up again.
Wordlessly, Cloudia handed him the paper, and slightly concerned, Cedric read it as well. There was not much: On the top, the name F. Ignatius E. Freeman was written and below it was his birth date, February 9, 1822. This was followed by a short list of occupations – he had indeed been a servant – and the document was concluded with something Cedric was uncomfortably familiar with: Ignatius' death certificate information.
MEDICAL CERTIFICATE FOR THE USE OF ARCHIVING
To the REGISTRAR of the SUBDISTRICT in which the DEATH took place. I hereby certify that attended…
…F. Ignatius E. Freeman, aged 19…
"He is dead?" Cedric exclaimed before his eyes landed on the cause of death. Death: June 1841; suicide.
His voice faltered when he continued. "He killed himself."
Grimly, Cloudia nodded. "I wanted information on him as quickly as possible. Who would have known that it would be so quick and that it would be something like that?" She shook her head. "Well, it cannot be helped anymore. Let us give this to Mr Castello. It's not anything he expected, but it's the truth and he deserves it after all those years of wondering. No wonder why Ignatius Freeman never visited him again…" Cloudia shook her head once more before turning to Cedric. "Are you fine? You look pale, Undertaker."
"I am fine," he answered, sounding distant to himself. He pocketed the paper. "I guess it's time for us to return to the train station now."
Cloudia blinked at him. "But there's no need. After all, you can…"
"Ah, yes. I forgot about it for a moment." Cedric took her hand and guided her to a less crowded corner before they vanished and reappeared in Brighton's train station. They barely spoke on their way to the Royal Suspension Chain Pier; they did not speak either when they waited there until, at four o'clock, Cager arrived. He waved at them when he saw them.
"Ah, you've come. Did you find anything on Ignatius?" Cager asked.
"We did," said Cloudia, and Cedric handed him the document. Frowning, Cager's eyes hushed over the paper and his face became ashen when he reached the end.
"I… He…" He pressed his lips together. "It seems so unbelievable; Ignatius was always so cheerful…" Cager shook his head. "Thank you for giving me this. Julian Curnow is currently hiding in St Mary's Church in Hendon. A good day to you, Lady Phantomhive, Mr Underwood." He briefly bowed his head before disappearing in the crowd.
Cedric stared into the crowd for a while until Cloudia tore him out of his thoughts. "Are you all right?"
He looked at her. "Oh, yes, of course, I am."
She took a deep breath and held her arm out to him. "Well, I think it's time to give the information on Curnow to Lisa to pass on and for us to have some late lunch and dinner. How does that sound?"
The place to which Cloudia had invited Cedric was called The International Restaurant and it was fabulous. It was a ridiculously large and ridiculously beautiful place: The walls were painted with all the various countries and adorned by all sorts of country-specific paraphernalia and their respective flags. The floor was one huge mosaic of the world, and the ceiling the painted sky during different periods of time and under different weather conditions: the starry night sky, the red and purple and orange dusk and dawn, the blue cloudless sky, the grey, rainy one…
Cedric could not help himself but stare at everything while they were guided to their seats, and when they sat down, he found something else he could stare at: the menu. From seemingly everywhere, dishes he had never heard of were listed. The menu was organised in courses and countries and for each dish, there were a few "notes of interest": little historical, cultural, or culinary facts. It was more of a little book than a menu pamphlet.
"What is this place?" Cedric asked.
"A restaurant," Cloudia answered, not taking her eyes off the menu.
"No, what is this place? Is it even real? How can there be so much food in the world?"
"It's a large world. Of course, there are thousands, millions of different dishes."
"But… but…" He looked down at the appetiser section. "How should I decide on anything? Do they allow takeaways?"
"If you like the food here, we can come again. The restaurant will not dissipate at midnight."
"What if it does? This restaurant seems so surreal to actually exist. How did you find it?"
"Someone recommended it to me. Apparently, cooks from all over the world are employed here to make the dishes as authentic as possible. There is a bakery adjourned to one side of the restaurant where you can buy baked goods from all around the globe…" Cloudia told him. "When he informed me about this place, I thought that it would be something for you."
"Yes! Whoever the creator of this restaurant is, I want to marry them."
She groaned. "Do you want to marry everyone who gives you food?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." Cedric flipped through the menu book. "There's still the problem about what to choose… So many options, so little stomach capacity."
"Well, you do not need to choose anything for one course."
He looked up. "What do you mean?"
"I was so free to choose something for you beforehand. It's some noodle dish called lemren from Asia which is eaten on birthdays. I thought it was fitting."
Cedric put away the menu and took Cloudia's hand. "Who are you and what did you do to my Countess? She's never that nice to me."
She pulled away her hand. "Only for today. Oh, look, the waiter is coming." A moment later, the waiter arrived with two plates of noodles with bush beans, meat, and tomatoes.
"The menu says that the noodles are hand-made and purposefully created to be very long. This dish is eaten on birthdays because the noodles stand for long life; eating them on your birthday should bring you a long life," Cloudia said.
Cedric looked at her. "A long life?"
"A 'long life-like state' for you." She lifted her glass and put a hand to her chest. Happy birthday, Cedric Kristopher Rossdale, Cedric heard in his head and he smiled. He raised his own glass to clink it against hers. "A long life or long life-like state," he said, and she returned his smile and shook her head before they started to eat.