Lucy beckoned me to sit down as she went to make some tea. I'd told her this was more important, but she insisted that everything was easier with a nice cup of tea. She was right, of course, but I was still worrying about Lockwood.
She was taking her time making the tea. I figured she was stalling. "Are you almost done in there?" I couldn't disguise the slightly annoyed edge to my voice.
"Good tea takes time," she retorted.
"Okay, I guess you don't want to hear that Lockwood is in danger."
There was the loud, harsh sound of a mug crashing to the ground. For a long moment all was silent. Then finally, "He's what?" She sounded as if she hoped she'd misheard me.
"In danger, yes."
At that she rushed into the living room, fixing me with her dark brown eyes. "What happened?! And why didn't you lead with that?!" Anxiety was evident in her tone.
"Well, I've been trying to get you to listen from the moment I walked in, so don't blame me. You're the reason he's imperiled in the first place."
She stared at me. "No, that's not- not possible. The whole reason I- there's no way I put him in danger. I haven't even been around for the past two months!"
"I'm well aware," I said dryly. "And that's exactly the reason. How could you be so stupid? He's borderline suicidal ever since you left!" Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating. But if I didn't embellish the anguish he'd gone through, she might try to ignore it and send me away. I couldn't take that risk. I needed to guarantee her return, so a small amount of deception was necessary.
"He's- no! You can't be serious. Right? There's no way." Even as she said this, the anxiety was morphing into terror. "I can't be the reason for that."
"Oh, give me a break! You're the only reason he didn't fall into a depression long before now! Open your eyes!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" She glared daggers at me, but still she looked more fearful than angry.
I heaved a deep sigh of long-suffering. "Let me spell it out for you. He's in love with you." I said the last part slowly for emphasis.
Her mouth opened and closed several times, her face displaying a million different emotions and thoughts at the same time, far too quickly for me to read. "He's . . . no. That's really funny, George. Ha! Anthony Lockwood, in love with me. Good one."
"Lucy, this isn't a joke. The idiot's finally realized he's hopelessly in love with you after several years of being totally oblivious to it. It's excruciatingly obvious, honestly." I took off my glasses and cleaned them on my sweater before returning them to my face. "He realized that you filled a hole in his life, and now he's going through the emotional trauma all over again. I don't care if you think he's 'just a friend', because I know you're about to try that rubbish on me. He doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He's tired of living without you. One of these days he's going to snap, and I'm worried it's sometime soon. I'm asking for your help, Lucy. I can't fix this by myself."
She slowly sat down next to me. The color had drained from her face. "I mean . . . I could go over there, but what's a visit going to do? What, do you want me to kiss him or something and hope that somehow fixes it?"
"Not a bad idea, if you're willing."
She blushed bright red. "I wasn't being serious! I was proving a point!"
"So . . are you telling me you don't fancy the idea?"
"Next question."
"That tells me all I need to know."
"Shut up!" She looked very flustered now. "Just tell me what you want me to do! Besides kissing him because I'm pretty sure that wouldn't do anything but turn it into an even more complicated emotional mess."
"You might be surprised, but fine. I just think you should stay over for a couple nights at Portland Row. Like old times. Who knows, maybe having you around for a few days will put some life back into him. Just because you left the agency doesn't mean you can't visit, right? If you came by once in a while, Lockwood might have a reason to live."
She wore a pained expression as I said this. "A few days? I don't know, George . . . I left for a reason."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, a reason that you refuse to tell us. Don't give me your excuses-" she'd opened her mouth and then closed it with a glare at me as I interrupted her, "-I know you're convinced it was for the benefit of everyone and you won't reveal the convoluted train of thought that led to that notion. But that's not the point, so don't bother. I'm not asking you to stay. All I'm asking is that you're around so that Lockwood's mental health doesn't disintegrate. Is that too much to ask? I didn't come to tell you to come back." In truth, I was definitely hoping that maybe some time around Portland Row and Lockwood would convince her that she couldn't stay away. For now, though, getting her to come by was step one.
She shifted. "I have a couple of cases. I mean, they aren't major, but still-"
"Reschedule them. If they aren't major, tell them you aren't available or something. Lockwood is more important." I raised an eyebrow, daring her to disagree.
Lucy held my stare for what seemed like several lifetimes. I stared back with a blankly serious expression. Finally she sighed. "Okay, fine! If it's that urgent, I'll spend the next two days there and you can see if that does anything. For the record, I'm not so sure it will. But I guess it wouldn't hurt to try. Are you happy now?"
"Yes, thank you," I responded in my normal emotionless tone. Inwardly I was practically buzzing with satisfaction. I'd hoped she'd agree to longer than two days, but I'd have to make it work. I was just relieved that my hastily thought out plan was actually working so far. "I'll finish making that tea, by the way, while you pack." Before she could protest, I was on my feet and in her kitchen, picking up the now-cracked mug that had thankfully been empty when she'd dropped it.
Without a word, she began packing her things.
In the cab ride to 35 Portland Row, Lucy had suddenly gotten very nervous. She was fidgety and apprehensive. "Are you absolutely sure he loves me?"
"Yes."
"How do you know for sure?"
"Because he told me. In his own words. It was rather difficult to misunderstand."
"Oh, now you're speaking rubbish. Lockwood doesn't tell anyone anything." I thought she sounded just a tad bitter as she pointed this out.
"I'm aware," I responded darkly. "He finally got distressed enough that he had to vent to someone. And yes, you are the reason for that. He told me that too."
She looked wildly uncomfortable. So she changed the subject. "When you said it was 'excruciatingly obvious' . . . what was that supposed to mean?"
I laughed sharply. "Let me give you just one example. Where'd you get that necklace?" I gestured to the beautiful pendant she always wore around her neck. Even after leaving, she still hadn't parted with it.
She flushed. "That doesn't mean anything. He just gave it to me because it was a special occasion. I'm sure if you were a girl he'd have given you something too."
At this I practically doubled over in hysterical laughter. The very idea! When I finally composed myself, I wiped my eyes, catching my breath. "Sure. First of all, me as a girl? What in your twisted mind came up with that? Secondly, no, he wouldn't have. I guarantee it. He's never given anything special to Holly. And thirdly, who gives a friend a diamond necklace just because? I don't care if he underplayed it. He's the master of pretending like he doesn't have emotions."
She went silent then. We'd reached our destination. I knocked on the door and it was promptly opened by Holly. Her eyes stretched wide. "Lucy?!"
Lucy stared at the ground. "Yep."
Holly glanced sideways at me. "You brought her back?"
"She's just staying for the next two days. Lockwood might be glad to see her though, so if we can come in . . ."
"Oh, yes! Sorry." She stepped aside and let us in.
Lucy set her bag down near the entryway, out of the way. "Where is he?"
I glanced around. "He's not in the living room, so he's definitely in the basement." I led her silently down the stairs.
As predicted, Lockwood was flourishing his rapier at Esmeralda, ducking away from imaginary strikes before stabbing through the straw and performing several fancy turns and knots I'd never seen before. He'd had a lot of practice lately, and so his rapier skills had increased quite a bit. It was impressive to any onlooker, but sad when you knew why he was so adept.
Lucy was transfixed as she watched him. I at first thought she was admiring his flair, but then I noticed her somber expression. She was realizing how disheveled his hair was, the darkness under his eyes. She saw the dullness in his gaze, and the absence of his smile. She took it all in, knowing she'd caused it. I almost felt guilty for telling her the effect her departure had on him, but shook it off. She needed to know. All of this just helped my chances of persuading her to return.
All at once, Lockwood caught sight of Lucy. Breathing hard, he froze and his rapier clattered to the ground. I guessed in his mind, time probably seemed to stop for a moment. He was absolutely still as he stared at her. He looked disbelieving, as if wondering whether he was dreaming or going insane.
Lucy took a deep breath. "Um, hi Lockwood," she greeted awkwardly. I cringed. It seemed the social skills of both people had suddenly shriveled up and died.
I could tell Lockwood was inwardly panicking. His face went paler than usual before the color rushed back and turned his cheeks a rosy shade, which got brighter by the second. He looked as if he couldn't decide whether to run to her or run away. After a moment of deliberation, he straightened up, igniting his smile. It seemed actually genuine for the first time in two months. Some of the brightness and life returned to his eyes. He brushed a hand through his hair as a pathetic attempt to smooth it. "Hey, Luce." His tone was as light as if she still lived here. "What brings you here?"
"You can cut the act, Lockwood. George told me everything."
His eyes went wide and he went into internal panic mode again. "Everything . . . as in?" He raised an eyebrow while shooting me a betrayed glare.
"Your mental state and all. The suicidal tendencies. Everything." Her tone was calmly sad.
"Suicidal-" He stopped himself and gave me a questioning look, and I willed him to play along. He must've somehow caught on, because he amended, "Oh, yes. Right." It wasn't very convincing, but Lucy seemed to accept it. He cleared his throat. "Did he, uh . . . tell you anything else, by chance?"
To my surprise, she shook her head. I'd thought she was going to rat me out and admit she knew of his feelings for her, but it looked like she wanted to avoid that whole debacle. Of course she would.
"Oh." Lockwood looked surprised, as well as a weird mixture of relieved and disappointed.
Lucy strode carefully towards him. "Lockwood, are you okay?" she asked softly.
He angled his head slightly downwards to lock eyes with her, giving her his complete and undivided attention. "I am now," he breathed.
"Don't be so quick. I'm not staying. I'm just here for the next two days," she warned. "I'm going to try to be around more often. But I'm not rejoining."
His face fell a little, but he nodded. "I understand. And I figured as much. But I just can't believe you're standing in front of me right now. To be honest, I thought I'd never see you again."
I let myself fade into the background. I didn't leave; just passively observed. They were beginning to become so wrapped up in each other's presence that my existence was almost forgotten. I was fine with that. It was enjoyable to watch them get all romantic before abruptly realizing I was still there.
"We were bound to run into each other eventually," she protested uncomfortably.
He stepped closer to her, and her face flushed a little. I figured she was realizing what I meant by 'painfully obvious' right about now. He brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "Maybe, but that's not the point. I'm so happy you're here, even though it's only for a little while. You always make me feel happier, Lucy Carlyle." He spoke in a low, soft voice, meant only for her. His cheeks were slightly pink still, and his dark eyes betrayed undying affection. For someone so well-practiced at hiding his feelings, he sure wasn't being too subtle now.
"I . . um . . th-thank you," she stumbled out, disoriented by his proximity.
"No, thank you. For saving me. You don't have a clue how many times you've done it. I could never thank you enough or make it up to you." He began leaning closer, eyes slowly closing-
Footsteps clattered down the stairs and the dreamy-eyed 'just friends' jumped apart. Lucy's face was beet red and Lockwood's was only a few shades away from it.
Holly looked around. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
"Nope," they both insisted.
"Yes," I complained. "What's so important that you had to break up the lovebirds?"
Holly's eyes widened as they flicked between Lucy and Lockwood. "Ohhhh, I see." She smirked. "Well, I must say I am extremely regretful to have stopped that. I wish I'd snuck down the stairs instead so I could've watched. But we've got a visitor."
Lockwood quickly composed himself. "A client?"
"Well . . . of sorts."
"What's that mean?"
"You'll find out." She beckoned us all back up the stairs.
We came into the living room, where none other than the scrawny, short, ginger-haired Quill Kipps was sitting in our couch. He was usually decked out in the shiny Fittes uniform, with his jeweled rapier and all that. Now he was wearing unremarkable trousers and a black turtleneck. His rapier was nowhere to be seen.
Lockwood raised an eyebrow. "Kipps. What brings you to Portland Row?"
Kipps took a deep breath. He grimaced as if his next words pained him, but nonetheless sighed and told him, "I'd like to join Lockwood & Co."
