Archive of Our Own

And that was that. She was a free woman. Leastways, free as someone like her was ever gonna be. Gina shrugged up her bag, feeling the comfortable weight of the hedgehog inside it, and began her long trek back to... well, she didn't know where. And she didn't think she'd be doing it alone, neither.

Trudging along towards the East End, Gina resented that it was such a lovely Spring day. Like it didn't matter none how gloomy she felt on the inside, the sun was gonna keep on shining and the occasional bird would chirp cheerfully. Bollocks to all of 'em! If it were up to her, it'd be spitting down rain to match her spirit, which had also sprung a leak.

Regret hit her immediately; wherever the other orphans were all staying, those relentlessly rainy days were always the worst, giving everyone the sniffles and sneezes or a chill they couldn't shiver away. She needed to quit being so selfish, 'specially when she hadn't done half of nothing for 'em stuck in the bucket for over a month.

Gina figured if Iris and all them weren't gonna show their mugs, she oughta seek out the orphans. Hopefully the abandoned flats they'd been shacking up in were still standing; the only thing permanent in any of their lives was the knowin' nothing ever would be.

All the sights and smells of London assaulted her from every side. The clops of horse-drawn carriages, and the rank odor of what was left in their wake; ladies' perfumes and gentlemen's colognes mixed with whatever the vendors were selling, hot and fresh—by the scent of where Gina was nearing, it was hot eel pies. Everyone sounded so pleasant, to the point that she thought them daft, or maybe that's just what being 'round warders who had the attitudes of someone with splinters in their bum made it all seem like.

Gina tried not to get taken in by all the barking vendors—even just a glance at their stalls, and the people queuing up to them made her fingers itch. Everywhere she looked, seemed like some toff was reaching for his wallet, or some bird was opening her purse. She'd sworn she'd turn over a new leaf, but... what was once more, for old time's sake?

And if she was gonna make her move, it'd have to be soon, 'fore she got to the parts of London where people didn't own fancy things like wallets or purses—well, 'less they'd stolen them.

She stared, and stared, and stared a mite longer at the vendor hocking oranges and lemons up on the corner. One orange wouldn't hurt. Better she take it than it ended up spoiled, right? Nicking fruits was always the easiest, anyway. Just hadda knock a few over by mistake. Then start to gushin' out sorry this and beg-your-pardon that while the vendor was busy picking 'em back up. Was so easy to scoop one up and stash it away while all this was goin' on.

No! She couldn't. Couldn't risk bein' thrown back in the gaol. With all that purge-ry whatnot, she'd had an excuse, being threatened by that rotten McGilded cove. Filching loaves and fruits, or even a meat pasty, or what was better, a purse full of pennies to buy any and all of it, honest-like? Nah, no one would care what reasoning she had. And after Mr. Naruhodo had gone through so much to get her off the hook for Mr. Windibank's murder, she owed it to him.

If she ever saw him again. Where was he? Or Iris, or Mr. Sholmes? Sooz was on her way back to Japan, so she had a real excuse, but everyone else? Gina didn't want to jump to the conclusion that—too late—had already leapt to the front of her mind. What if it was all just a show, and they'd wiped their hands clean of her?

Her chest clenched as she warred with her conscience over plucking just one orange, and if anyone would really care if she forced herself not to. She adjusted her grip on the strap of her bag, and the hedgehog inside, batting lightly against her hip, squished that chest-knot tighter as her peepers prickled wet. Bloody hell...

“Gina!”

'Oddo? Cor, she missed him so much she could hear his voice! How pathetic could she get, letting her mind pull one over on her like that?

“Gina!”

There it was again! Louder... closer...?

Through the milling sea of fashionable Londoners, Gina spotted a black sleeve raised high, and the hand attached to it was waving frantically. “Gina!”

“Eh...?” Gina's confusion broke into relief as she saw the figure gracelessly dodge an approaching hack, and hurry towards her with a breathless smile. “'Oddo!”

It was Mr. Naruhodo—'Oddo, since his given name left Gina all sorts of tongue-tied, and still calling him “Mister” seemed off, like they weren't friendly.

“Sorry, sorry.” He was panting like a sorry mutt. “Sorry... I... I was helping Iris around the house and lost track of time... really! I... Oh, I hope you weren't thinking we forgot, or—”

Gina let the bag slip from her shoulder, and used it to wallop 'Oddo on his arm. It weren't hard, not with the toy inside, but it had the intended effect. 'Oddo flinched and stumbled away, hands up in surrender.

“Gina, I said I was sor—”

“Yeah, well, you're sayin' it now, but just make sure you show it! Got it? Next time, don't be late! You lot 'ad me goin'!”

“Next...?” 'Oddo kept a safe distance from her, looking about as thrilled as if he'd put his foot in a horse apple. “Um, I really hope there's not a 'next' time you'll be released from prison.”

“Yeah, yeah, I don't needa 'ear it from you too.” She hitched her satchel up, scowl starting to fade as she drew closer to 'Oddo, and he let her. “'lready got the full treatment from Iris and Sholmes 'bout tryin'a find a... that fing you got. A carrier path?”

“Career path.”

“One of those, yeah. Blimey, 'ow do you figure I make 'eads or tails of that when I don't know where my next meal's comin' from?”

“About that...” 'Oddo laughed lightly, keeping near to Gina as they maneuvered through the crowd—and not towards the East End, neither. “That's part of the reason I had to find you. Me, specifically. Not Iris. She's busy preparing a celebration party for your release.”

“She... a wot?!” Gina clapped a hand over her mouth as her question ended on a squeak. “I-I mean... ain't that a lil' much for... for me?”

“Not at all!” 'Oddo said this like Gina were asking him somethin' easy-peasy as putting one and one together. “Well, that's not the only reason, I guess.”

“Whad'you mean?”

They were stopped at a street corner, where 'Oddo was trying to hail a carriage, but bein' right gormless about it. Gina shoved his arm down and yelled “Oi! Whip!” at the coachman dilly-dallying while dropping off a customer—a real fancy-frills lady—across the street.

The carriage lumbered out of its parked position, and pulled up to Gina and 'Oddo smartish. After greeting them with his face redder than a baboon's arse, the coachee took the fare from 'Oddo and asked, “Where to, sir?”

So 'Oddo told him. 221B Baker Street.

And then he told Gina, who snugged up next to him, clinging to his arm as the carriage took off, “And what I meant was, 'Happy birthday.''' He grinned down at her.

She didn't know what the bloody hell he was talking about, but she couldn't help grinning back.

Sittin' in a carriage sure beats riding 'neath the seat, Gina thought as they jounced along towards Baker Street.  She couldn't look out at the scenery passin' by for too long without her stomach floppin' like a codfish on land, but that was alright. She liked more listenin' to 'Oddo anyways.

He was goin' on 'bout getting to ride the rails 'round town—and he'd done so all by hisself, thanks to all them maps Sooz had left him—when Gina blurted out, “What were you sayin' wif all that 'appy Birthday swill earlier?”

“Your...?” He blinked. “Oh, right. That's what Iris told me—and that's the other reason we're going back to Baker Street... oh! It's supposed to be a surprise, but... I told Iris maybe that's not the best thing since you're fresh out of...” he trailed off, eyes slipping away from Gina.

“Cor, 'Oddo, you can say it! It ain't a curse word. 'Course, you can say those too, alls you like. Ain't anythin' I 'aven't said me-self. But, I'm fresh outta the ol' chokey; that's what you wanna say, ain't it?”

“Yes... er, but, look, I thought... like I was saying, I didn't think you'd want to be surprised for your birthday, and I tried telling Iris that I was just going to—”

“Come off it, already! It ain't my birthday!” Blimey, she didn't want to explain this to 'Oddo out in public like this, but better he know—and it weren't that difficult to understand, really. Her situation weren't uncommon, but it were still 'nuff to make shame pinken her face. “Mean, I can't really say! Sure, there's a chance, but... shit, 'Oddo, you think I know my birthday? I'm lucky I e'en know my name.”

“Oh...” 'Oddo looked up at the whip, who'd glanced behind him when Gina's voice had risen. “I'm sorry, I wasn't... Iris sounded really sure about it, and I even pitched in to— oh wait, that's supposed to be a surprise too.”

Gina groaned. “Look, and that's good on ya both, because when I say there's a chance it's my birthday, I mean there's a good chance. I know I was born 'round this time, 'round the same time as the queen—not the same year, mind.”

“Er, no, I didn't think so,” 'Oddo said flatly.

“But it just ain't somethin' that's ever mattered, wif me an' the other orphans, see. 'Cause, wot, we weren't nabbin' gifts or nuthin' for one 'nother, 'cept maybe 'round Christmas. Don't work like that. And speakin' of the orphans, I'm 'opin' this party or whatever it is wot's waitin' for me at Baker Street don't take too long—I gotta get back to 'em.”

“I know, I know.” God bless 'Oddo, trying his best to sound soothing and understanding—weren't much of one or the other, but he made the effort, which was more than what Gina could say for many others. “I can't promise Iris isn't gonna want you to stay over, but I don't expect it to go late into the night.”

“True; she'll be wantin' to make sure Sholmes don't stay up past 'is bedtime, huh?”

“Something like that,” 'Oddo agreed.

“And y'know, 'Oddo, I 'ope this ain't one of those 'ales where I'm s'posed to come waltzin' in lookin' like icing on a cupcake. 'Coz this is all I got, right 'ere.” Gina motioned to her faded clothes, which were in desperate need of a wash—'cept she didn't know if they could survive it.

“It's just me and Iris and Mr. Sholmes,” said 'Oddo. “No one you need to impress.”

“Sure, but if Iris's puttin' so much work into it wot she don't got time to come get me, think I oughta scrub up just a little. Look, wots-its...? Pree-sennable?”

“Gina...” 'Oddo started with a sigh that was edging towards a laugh. “If you want to use the bath when we get there, I don't think Iris'll have a problem with it. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea...” his gaze dropped down to her battered shoes, and the ratty ol' socks poked into them that covered her scrawny legs.

“I mean, if you're offerin', then... wot is it you've all been on me 'bout, to accept help 'coz it's polite and curt-yes? Summat like that? 'lright, then, I'll get myself all freshened up, don't go twistin' my arm. I get it, I'm 'bout as dirty as wot that 'orse leaves behind 'im, and probably smell like it too.”

Another sigh. “Well, I didn't say all that.”

“But your nose's been wrinklin' like you're thinkin' it,” Gina noted.

“Uh... well...” 'Oddo paused, just long enough that Gina knew he was comin' up with one of those bluffs that'd gotten him through her trial. She weren't no Reaper with a hallowed chalice, but an elbow to the arm was an effective enough objection. “Ow!”

“Didn't you learn nothin' from Sooz 'bout wot you can say to a lady? Bleedin' 'ell, I oughta 'ad 'er teach me one of those takedowns of 'ers.”

'Oddo sunk down into his seat, rubbing at his arm and unleashing his heaviest sigh yet. His eyes fixed forward, and he called up to the coachee, “Are we there yet?”

The carriage slowed to a stop right in front of 221B, and Gina practically fell out in her haste to get inside. The door were unlocked, and even if it weren't, she felt certain she woulda right torn it from its hinges, with it bein' the only thing that stood between her and Iris.

“Iris!” she shouted the second she stepped into the foyer. “Iris!”

Hollering like this was “un-coof”, or summat like what one of the warders had said she was when she'd told him to bugger off for trying to inspect the stuffed hedgehog Iris had lent her, but Gina didn't give a damn.

There was an almost immediate response of the pounding of footsteps, a delighted squeal of “Ginny!” before Gina got an eyeful of bobbing pink pigtails and was knocked back several steps with an oomph!

Chattin' with Iris, seeing her through the bars once a week—yeah, it'd helped more than Gina could ever properly find the words for, but it weren't the same as this, not even within spitting distance. She hugged Iris back, pulling her close so the girl's head smushed right into her Bristols. It weren't comfortable in the least, but was a small price to pay as a lump pushed into her throat, brought on by Iris squeezing her even tighter.

Hell, Iris would have picked Gina up, if she'd the strength, the way her arms kept lifting around Gina's waist. “Oh, you're back, and just in time! Happy birthday!”

Eh, not this load of tommyrot again. Well, she weren't about to argue. Iris weren't a lawyer like 'Oddo, just a sweet little girl who didn't have a mean bone in her body; Gina could keep her gob shut, and go 'long with it for now.

“And Runo!” Iris finally let go of Gina to poke her head up and look at 'Oddo, who was bringing up the rear. “You found her! If anyone could, it'd be you!”

“Thanks?”

“More like we found each other,” Gina said, carefully removing Iris's arms from around her. “'e thought I was gonna be wailin' like a babe that you 'adn't come but naw, I knew you'd musta 'ad a good reason. Didn't worry me one bit.”

“Are are we in the same reality...?” 'Oddo mumbled.

Now that Gina didn't have a face full of Iris, which smelled all soft and dainty, like powder and flowers, she caught a whiff of something altogether different. It was the strangest mix of sweets and meats.

Iris noted her curiosity, the way she sniffed in the direction of the kitchen. “That's right! I've been cooking away all morning so we can feast allllll night. Only the best for you, Ginny.”

“The best?” Gina repeated. Certainly, she'd put Iris's cooking up there with the best she'd ever had, but that didn't really say much.

“You'll see!” Iris promised. “And as a bonus, Runo'll get to see how we celebrate birthdays here in England; he's been chomping at the bit to find out.”

“I wouldn't go that far, but Mr. Sholmes said it'll be a practice run for when we're to celebrate Iris's birthday next month, so I'm looking forward to that."

“Where is that bloody Sholmes?” Gina asked.  The sound of that squawking violin of his were absent, which meant he were too.

“Oh, I sent him to pick up a few more things for the party,” Iris said.

“More? 'Ow much more do ya even need?”

“You'll see!” Iris clasped her hands together happily, and how could Gina refute an answer like that? “He should be back by the time everything's done.”

Should was a very dangerous word when it came to Mr. Sholmes, but since Iris sounded confident, Gina didn't debate her. 'Cept, it did make her wonder... “Well, when's that gonna be? When everything's 'done'?”

“The food? Another hour, give or take.”

“O-Oh... that sounds... nice.” Gina tried to hide her disappointment. “Too bad it's not ready now—mean, since you worked so 'ard on it, Iris. Wish I could try it all right away.”

“I'm kinda hungry too,” 'Oddo put in, and Gina glanced over to see him sliding her a look saying he saw straight through her round'bout statement. “You still have some breakfast leftover that you can heat up for us, don't you, Iris? Just a little, so we don't spoil our appetites?”

“What do you think, Waggy?” Iris asked the adorable calico cat that had wandered into the foyer. “Should I bring Ginny and Runo bacon or kippers?”

Wagahai blinked her big eyes up at Iris and meowed.

“A lil' of both wouldn't 'urt...” Gina hinted.

“Whatever you'd like, Ginny.” Iris came back for another hug, and that lump that'd been in Gina's throat earlier returned, pushed out as a hiccup. “Today's all about you!”

“What I'd really like,” Gina said, patting Iris on the head as she let go. “Is to eat those bacon an' kippers in a steamin' 'ot bath. An' eat whatever else yer makin' me while wearin' something that ain't soaked in muck like these rags. That's alright wif you, innit?”

She looked at 'Oddo for a nod of approval, that she did well in askin' that—just like he told her to! He gave that nod, adding a smile that was like a cherry on top.

“Of course!” Iris said. “Runo, why don't you see what you have laying around that you could lend Ginny?”

“Er, sure, but—”

“You can dig through Hurley's wardrobe too if you want!  We'll lay everything out in there for you, Ginny.”

“I really don't want—” 'Oddo started.

“Thanks!” Iris beamed. “I'll even throw in an extra piece of bacon for your trouble.”

'Oddo sighed much like he had when they were in the carriage, looking as thoroughly deflated as anyone Gina could imagine for bein' offered bacon. Waggy came up to rub on his leg, meowing like she was thanking him too.

Gina was sure when she died and if she went to heaven, it'd be a big warm bathtub overflowing with the lavender-scented suds she just spent close to a half-hour wallowing 'round in. She'd never had such a nice soak in her whole life, nor had anything so tasty as the crispy bacon and salty kippers that Iris had sent her off with, along with tea that smelled like honey and flowers,

It was a far cry from her six weeks in the gaol, having had nothin' but mushy-looking slop the prison insisted was porridge. What a whopper that was—porridge, hah! Sure, she'd told 'em—if porridge came out the back end of a cow!

That'd been a few days in. A week later, she couldn't get enough of the stuff, that they only passed through the bars of her cell twice a day—if she were lucky, which she weren't always.

Sholmes's room was like one of them treasure-filled caverns in fairy tales, 'cept 'stead of anything worth nabbing, it was just piled top to bottom with junk. In an organized way, mind—or a way Sholmes saw as organized, at any rate. Still, Gina was wary of getting too close to any one mountain; she didn't get released from the clink just to get taken out buried 'neath all this useless shite.

Neatly laid out on the bed, in place of the pile of stink-logged rags Gina had tossed there, was a clean outfit that musta been what 'Oddo had picked up like Iris had told him to.

Although “outfit” was pushin' it, with what was as odd a mish-mash as any, even more so than the four people under this roof. There were some underthings that looked fresh, but the trousers were 'Oddo's—black and slim and straight-legged. Gina hopped into them, and though 'Oddo was short for a bloke, his trousers were still too long for her. She tucked the cuffs up, a few times over, so they hit her ankles.

The top was... somethin' else, alright. All lacy and ribbony, it was too frilly to be somethin' Sholmes would own, yet was just his size. Or more—it was perfectly fitted for a woman his size, which Gina was decidedly not. Still, it was as soft and smooth as cream, and about the same color, too. Gina slipped the blouse over her head, and tugged out the damp plait she'd woven her hair into, letting it flop over her shoulder.

It was too large and roomy by far, so she twisted the hem 'round a few times at her hip, and, using one of the hair ribbons Iris had left for her, tied that knot with a droopy little bow. There. Sure, too much of the skin under her collarbone was showin' for her to go out like this; some sloshed sailor might take her for a trollop. But she weren't goin' out—she was stayin' in and the only men around were 'Oddo and Sholmes and neither of 'em would be sneaking a peek. Especially Sholmes, Gina suspected.

They hadn't found any new shoes for her, so Gina had to shove her plates into the ones she'd worn for the past year. The dirt and grime had been wiped off a bit, but they still smelled to high heaven and would probably fall apart by Summer's end. 'Least she'd been given new socks, though they were an ugly mustard yellow color and kept slouching no matter how she folded them.

“Ginny! Everything's ready!” came Iris's voice.

“Be right out!” she called back.

She studied herself in the mirror one last time, and pinched at her cheeks, hoping to put some color into 'em. Smiled, using her tongue to clear off any bits o' bacon.

Blimey, her first ever birthday party!

Time to make the most of it.

Gina had barely tromped into the living room when Iris took her by the hand and led her over to the trunk that doubled as a table.

“Surprise!” Iris exclaimed, gesturing to the trunk, and what was perched upon it—as if Gina could miss it.

Her jaw dropped and her minces damn near bugged out of her head.

A huge cake, with a dome top, like one of them fancy government buildings, was dusted with powdered sugar and topped off with the fattest, reddest strawberries Gina had ever seen. It looked like it belonged in a museum but Gina just wanted it crammed into her mouth. Circling the plate like a fence were birthday candles. Gina counted one, two, three... up to eight that she could see, guessin' there was ten more she couldn't.

“Alright, Runo, you can come out now!” Iris called to the kitchen, where 'Oddo nudged the door open and came out carrying a polished tray. “Look! Scones! I had to use the rest of the strawberries. They'll go great with tea!”

“We won't have to worry about breakfast for the rest of the week, I'm sure of that.” 'Oddo set the tray down beside the cake. He looked at Gina, who was still gobsmacked into silence, and then at Iris with a hearty laugh. “I think she approves of it all.”

Heat rushed to Gina's face. She wanted to say, so what if she did? And she wanted to say, too, that they were both completely daft for going to all this trouble, for her.

But what she actually said was, “Christ, Sholmes ain't back yet, is 'e?”

“No,” Iris said, as she picked up a triangular cake cutter. “Why, did you want to wait until he returned to eat?”

“Like 'ell I do. I just don't wanna 'ear 'im whinging about gettin' a smaller piece than me. Let's dig in now!”

Gina paused halfway through her second piece of sponge cake to take a bite of her third scone. 'Oddo, on the other hand, was still pecking away at his first slice of cake. Gina guessed it'd had more to do with all the flames that'd been lit around it none too long ago than how it tasted (which was, no doubt about it, delicious).

He and Iris had taken up a game of chess, which Gina didn't know nothin' about but was more content to sit and watch. She couldn't rightly tell who was winning and who was losing, but since 'Oddo weren't focusing on the board, and his eyes were doin' that shifty slide they'd done in court when he was sweating like the blue blazes, she figured Iris was kickin' his arse.

Iris slid her castle piece clear across the board, and lifted her fingers from the piece slowly, surely. It was a rule, Gina had learned, that once you let go of your piece after movin' it, there weren't takebacks.

Reacting instantly, 'Oddo countered by pushin' one of his itsy pawns forward a square. Gina liked the pawns the most, how they were just little piddly things but could do so much when joined together. But what she'd picked up of chess was that this weren't much of a move at all—a waste of one, if anything.

Iris, too, noticed that 'Oddo weren't acting like his true self, and cut right to the chase. “Runo, I can promise you no demons have been summoned.”

'Oddo, who'd just stabbed a bit of cake with his fork, let it hang there in front of his mouth as he replied, “What...? No, I didn't... That's definitely not what I was thinking about...”

“Oh!” Iris said as if some great new idea had just struck her. “I know, why don't you tell Ginny what you told me? About,” she cleared her throat, then said with an air of distinction, “O tan-jobi o-me-deto gozai-masu. That'll help you get your mind off these demons!”

“But you just said there's not—”

“Ota-jobby—wot's-its?!” Gina interrupted through a mouthful of cake, that she promptly swallowed. “Gordon Bennett! Talk 'bout summoning demons! Sounds like wot you're tryin'a do wiv all that mumbo-jumbo.”

“All that 'mumbo-jumbo' is Japanese for 'happy birthday'!” Iris gave Gina a look cross enough that she coulda lit another set of birthday candles.

“In mangled Japanese,” 'Oddo corrected. He repeated the phrase—least, Gina thought he did; it was comparable to what Iris had said, only much more fluid. “But you still did a good job, Iris.”

“Thanks! I'll have it perfected by next year. Don't you worry, Ginny!”

Gina figured it was time to set Iris straight much like she had 'Oddo. “Iris, listen...” She took a deep breath, and a glance towards 'Oddo; he seemed awares of where she was going, and didn't try to stop her. “It ain't that I'm not glad t'see you 'gain, 'specially with all this to nosh on. But the fing is... you might got the wrong idea. E'en though I was born in May, that don't make today my birthday. So, I dunno if this is... right, carryin' on like this. This year or next year or any year.”

“Well, that doesn't mean we can't celebrate it.” Pouting her lip out, Iris crossed her arms. “Besides, you said you know you were born in May—and it's still May!”

There weren't much to debate there—if she did, she'd sound even more like an ungrateful swot. But for Gina, as much as she appreciated her birthday being acknowledged, the not-knowing was only a reminder of the fact she, like so many of the other orphans, had been cast aside. And that, she supposed, was fortunate too, for surviving to see more than a few birthdays.

“You told me the same thing in the carriage. How do you know what month you were born, and not the day?” 'Oddo asked, genuine and not at all judgmental.

“Don't worry 'bout it; go back to your game!” Gina huffed; here they'd been having a perfectly fun time and she'd gone and ruined it. Shoulda just not said anything, went along with it all.

“Gina...” 'Oddo prodded. “We're not going to think of you differently. It's... well, you don't have to share it, of course, but there's not going to be any harm if you do.”

There it was, that was exactly it. Gina always felt telling anyone anything—all it did was give them ways to hurt her. But the way Iris and 'Oddo were lookin' at her... surely, if they wanted to do anything harmful, there wouldn't be all this to-do leadin' up to it, right? It weren't like confessin' about McGilded while under oath, or when they'd ganged up on her while she was in the gaol, but Gina's resolve crumbled all the same... she blamed the cake; havin' scarfed down so much, she must be goin' just as soft and fluffy.

“Well, fine, it ain't nothin' much to tell. The day I got taken in by the other orphans was the same day they 'ad the celebration for the Queen's Birthday, that big ol' parade. The girl wot found me... good ol' Phil—'er name was Ophelia but that was too 'ard for any of us bin lids—she finks my mum took a'vantage of 'ow busy and crowded it were and just left me none too far from the backuva butcher shop, wiv all the rotten scraps. Said I was squallin' like a banshee, starvin', an' I couldn't of been more'n month old, so that's 'ow they figure my birthday. An' that's it! See, what'd I tell ya?”

“Wait, I thought you said it was almost the same day as the queen. When's her birthday?”

“Depends which one you mean,” Gina said with a sense of superiority. “One I'm talkin' 'bout 'ere is the second Thursday in June. Ev'ryone knows that!”

“Not everyone apparently.”

“Well, I'm sure Sooz knew! An' she didn't tell you?” Gina rolled her eyes. “Yeah, pull the other one why you're at it.”

'Oddo made a face revealing she probably had, but he hadn't absorbed it—or been listening in the first place. “How's it a different day every year?”

“Don't ask me. S'always been that way, goin' back to George, right, Iris?”

Iris nodded. “That's right, and like Ginny said, there's a big parade! But Vicky's real birthday is just a couple days from today.”

“I'm so confused...” 'Oddo muttered. “But I suppose it's like how, in Japan, everyone turns a year older on the first day of the new year, regardless of when they were born.”

“Blimey, that must make it tough to buy gifts or 'ave any kind of party.”

“Well, no, we don't do any of that, not really.”

“So, wot, you don't do nuffin' on your actual birthday?” She'd fit right in, then. 

'Oddo smiled slightly. “We at least acknowledge it. Say 'happy birthday'. Sometimes close family and friends will celebrate it, in a way, but it's never anything elaborate. Not a party, really. More of a get-together.”

“Like this!” Iris chimed in.

“Gettin' a bleedin' Cambridge edja-cation over 'ere, I am.” Gina dug back into her cake, even though she was startin' to feel as fat as a hog with all she'd shoveled down already. Through another bite, she asked, “Say, 'Oddo, what was it that you said again, the 'appy birfday an' all? I wanna try it.”

'Oddo said it, but Gina couldn't make sense of it, blinking. He repeated it, slower, “Tahn-jo-bee. O—”

“Tan. Joe. Be,” Gina mimicked.

“There you are. Tanjobi. Omay-de-too.”

“Omer-detto. Tanjobi Omer-deto!” Crumbs went spittling out, and 'Oddo winced.

“Oh, you're doing splendidly, Ginny! A natural!” Iris cheered.

“You fink?” She wiped at her mouth with the sleeve of Sholmes's baggy shirt, grinning at Iris's compliment. "An' 'ere I 'ad some tellin' me I don't e'en speak English 'alf good. But weren't it longer'n all that when you said it, Iris? You put somethin' extra at the end.”

“Ah,” 'Oddo answered for her. “There's two ways of saying 'happy birthday', actually. The one Iris said is more formal, more polite. So, if I were saying it to Lord van Zieks, for instance.”

“I wouldn't be wishin' 'im much of a 'appy anything, but sure. An' what's it s'posed to be 'ow you taught me, then?”

“That's how you say it to those you're closer to. Friends and family.”

“So, for Sooz an' Iris an' Sholmes, eh?”

“And for you too, Gina.”

Feeling her face grow warm, Gina muttered an “Oh. Alrigh', then...” and chomped a big bite out of her scone, as Iris and 'Oddo went back to their chess game.

It weren't long after returning to the chess game that they were interrupted again by the front door opening. Loudly. Gina almost dropped her plate, and 'Oddo damn near tipped the chessboard over. Iris didn't seem bothered none, movin' her pointy bishop piece in line with 'Oddo's king and exclaiming “Checkmate!”

“Ah, greetings to all!” came Sholmes's voice, followed by the man himself entering the room with a massive box secured under his arm. He bowed dramatically like he were in some play, the ham. “Miss Lestrade, what a pleasant surprise! And that's quite a fetching blouse you've donned... seems familiar...”

Gina blinked at Iris, who did the same up at Sholmes. “A surprise? Hurley, we've been preparing for this all day; you were the one who went out to... Oh!” Iris pressed her hands to her mouth. “Wait, I'm not supposed to say anything yet, am I?”

“It's alright, Iris,” 'Oddo said, eying what Sholmes was carrying. “Let's just give her the present.”

“Present?” Gina asked. “You said 'e was gettin' more goods for the party.”

“Correct, and there's nothing more 'good' for this party than what I have right here, my young lady.” Sholmes took a seat beside Gina and passed her the box he'd brought along.

The box was huge. Long and narrow, it weren't anything Gina could easily pinch, nearly half the size of her leg. A wide red ribbon was looped around it, which Gina guessed was to signal it was, in fact, a gift.

“Well, go on, Gina. Open it!” said 'Oddo.

“We all chipped in!” Iris plopped down on Gina's other side, on the couch's arm.

Gina didn't need to be told twice. She hastily removed the ribbon and chucked the lid aside with a clatter before tearing through the thin layer of tissue paper.

“Eh...?”

A pair of tall, black boots were revealed. She picked one up, turning it over. The first thing she examined were the soles. They were tough, sturdy—not that any shoe would last forever, with as much hoofin' around as she did, but they were clearly of a quality she ain't never thought was available to someone like her.

Just like Iris, 'Oddo, and Mr. Sholmes. The type of friends she ain't never thought she coulda found, neither.

“Are they to your liking?” Sholmes asked. “Iris had mentioned your need for new footwear—and Mr. Naruhodo was the one, I believe, who suggested something more resistant than your everyday loafer or clog.”

"'T-To my likin'?” Gina stammered. “Wot, are you off your rockers, of course I like 'em! Th-they're...” She couldn't stop rubbing her fingers along the buttery leather. “They're... perfect. A nice pair o' daisies like these—ain't never 'ad anything as nice as this in me 'ole life.” She thought of the blood-spattered coat that had been hers, for all of a few moments. “Nothin' that was really mine, anyway.”

They felt a bit stiff, but surely that was just the leather needin' some breaking in. Sorta like her own emotions, really.

Iris flung herself at Gina again—Lord, Gina had been hugged more times in the past few hours than she had in a lifetime. Couldn't complain, though. “I knew you'd like them! Hurley wanted me to just let you keep Hedgie but that's hardly good enough!”

“Now, Iris, it was merely a suggestion, in the early stages of planning for Miss Lestrade's release.” Sholmes said from aside her; he'd helped himself to piece of sponge cake, that was twice the size of what Iris had sliced off for them earlier.

“But you can keep him if you want. He's just like you, Ginny.”

“Wot d'you mean?”

“Hm, probably the fact that hedgehogs have rather prickly exteriors,” Sholmes said between bites. “And they're quite tiny.”

Gina scowled.

“But they're actually sweet and gentle, beneath their protective spikes,” Iris said.

“Hmph, I dunno 'bout all that.”

“I do,” 'Oddo responded, giving Gina a wink that only made her “hmph!” again.

'Oddo offered to help Iris clean up, the two of them taking the remaining food and dirtied plates to the kitchen. As Gina expected, Sholmes moaned about not having a second slice of cake, and she was tempted to stick her new boots on just so she could give him a swift kick with 'em.

'Course, she didn't think she could do much kickin' right now, with so much cake weighing her down.

“Oh, would you belt up!” she told him when he started on about not getting to nibble on a single scone. “It ain't like you can't never 'ave any. Iris is savin' some for you lot to eat during the week.”

“Is that what she told you? And here I thought she would've spilled it all to you by now. Good on her.”

It was 'Oddo who'd mentioned it, but Gina didn't see the point in splitting hairs. “Wot are you goin' on about?”

Sholmes chuckled. “Don't worry, my dear girl: all will become clear to you shortly.”

“Or you could just gimme an answer now!”

“I could.” Sholmes wagged a finger at her. “But my answer is dependent on the answers you give me. Now, am I to assume you've no plans to stay here overnight?”

The offer was enticing, but Gina knew she couldn't leave the little 'uns to fend for themselves any longer than she already had. She told Sholmes as much. “I'd like that, but... the other orphans... I've already been out far too long, and—”

“As I thought.” He cut her off. “Now, might I also ask: Did you not consider why Iris baked such a copious amount of scones? Such an enormous cake?”

“No, I didn't 'consider' nuffin'! I thought it was 'coz you'd be wantin' to jam it all in that fat north an' south of yours!”

Sholmes laughed, in earnest this time. “I suppose that's not an incorrect deduction to make, but... no, I'm afraid that's hardly Iris's true motivation. You see, Miss Lestrade, it's all tied to your shiny new pair of boots here, which I'm certain are in need of being broken in. I think a round trip to and from the East End, entirely on foot, might do just the trick in accomplishing that.”

“An' wot's that got t'do wif all them scones?...” As the words left her mouth, she began to piece it together. “Wait, you aren't sayin' we should bring every'fing to... to the orphans, are ya?”

“No, I'm afraid transporting all that food would be a great hassle—and we wouldn't want to risk dropping it, or having it nicked by some clever diver.” Sholmes was looking at her knowingly. “But if we were to, perhaps, round up this collective of orphans you so lovingly view as family and escort them back here—yes, I think there's plenty to go around. Then, since it'll be rather late by the time you've all sufficiently sated your appetites, I don't see any harm with everyone staying the night—well, so long as you consent to letting everyone be searched upon their departure tomorrow. Can't have any silverware or other trinkets go missing, you understand?”

“Are you...?!” She bolted up from the couch—no amount of cake stuffed in her belly was gonna keep her down now. She raced to the kitchen door and threw it open, causing 'Oddo and Iris to jump. “Are you serious?!”

She didn't need to elaborate; Iris and 'Oddo exchanged glances, both marked with huge smiles.

“Any family of yours is welcome here, Ginny!” Iris said. In front of her, on the kitchen counter, was a large mixing bowl filled with something beige-colored and creamy. A sweet, honey-like aroma seeped all through the kitchen.

“And Iris wants me to help her with a castella cake recipe Miss Susato gave her—that's a different kind of cake we eat in Japan,” 'Oddo said, a batter-coated whisk in his hand. “So I don't think we'll have any shortage of food tonight, between this and all the scones we have left.”

Gina didn't think she could take another bite of cake, no matter how good it smelled, and how pretty the name of it was. But that was all for the better; it meant more for the orphans.

“Pleased to hear it!” Sholmes had snuck up behind Gina, barricading her from backing out of the doorway. “It smells delightful already. Excellent work, Iris; I'm sure you'll do Miss Susato proud.”

“Thanks, Hurley! I even have a special blend of elderflower tea to brew, that we can drink with it!”

“I would expect nothing less.” He set his hands on Gina's shoulders, meaning to direct her out of the kitchen. “Come, Miss Lestrade; let's find out if those new boots of yours live up to their price tag.”

Sholmes waited as Gina wiggled her feet into the boots, trying to keep the yellow socks she'd borrowed from bunching up.

“Sorry, I'm goin' as fast as I can,” Gina said, even though Sholmes didn't show any sign of impatience. “I don't know why we 'ave to bother walkin' though. 'Oddo and I took a carriage 'ere and it were a crackin' good time.”

“Ah, well, we must give them time to bake the cake,” Sholmes said. “And, the other thing is... not to bombard you, my young lady, as the day's already been so eventful, but there was another topic I wished to discuss with you, and I thought it could be during our walk to the East End. Iris tells me the two of you have talked about your future.”

“Er, I mean, she's been doin' most of the talkin'. I just listen and nod when it seems right. But most of what she's said... it's got to me, y'know? About goin' on the straight an' narrow from 'ere on out.”

“Precisely, and I thought I could expound upon that, and inform you of some of the options that might assist you in navigating this new path of yours.”

Gina got to her feet, a bit wobbly. Her toes were pinched but she didn't care, with how wearin' the new boots made her stand up tall and proud. “You know, I don't understand you lot, goin' through all this for me... for the orphans too, when you've never even met 'em.”

“I'm of the mind that kindness and generosity should not be withheld based on silly qualifications such as lacking familiarity with another. Now, then, let us be off, so that we might return while the daylight is still upon us.”

Gina followed Sholmes to the door, the heel of her boots echoing on the foyer's hardwood floor. She could hardly fathom that this morning she'd woken up in a dank, moldy cell, and here she was surrounded by its opposite: warmth and hope. It was wild to think not just of what the evening would bring, but of the possibility of a whole year ahead of her, and not one filled with uncertainty or betrayal, of countless struggles, but of promise, and the kind of people who kept those promises.

Maybe this weren't her actual birthday, but it felt a whole lot like the beginning of some sort of new life.

She and Sholmes walked side-by-side towards the East End, and Sholmes started on about that bloke Iris knew from the Yard, Detective Gregson.

But Gina was only half-listening; all she could hear was the smart clack clack, clack clack of her boots on the pavement.

Tan-joe-be o-mer-det-to, she said to herself in rhythm with each round of clacks, hearing it not just in her own words but in Iris's and 'Oddo's voices as well.

A birthday. And real, dyed-in-the-wool friends wishing for her to have a happy one.

Yeah, she could get used to that.