Work Text:
When the phone first begins to ring, every one of them flinches. It’s alarming, how quickly it’s become something to be afraid of, but with the strange clock (which she can’t fathom the purpose for at all) still around, they’re still at risk of those calls, and after watching what had happened to Liv…
Well, the Doctor might not be afraid of the calls, but Helen is, even if her state hangs somewhere in the balance between fearful and hopeful.
There’s a part of her which thinks, no matter how unpleasant the conversation would be, tat she might like for it to happen. Seeing the photos of her father’s casket had been unsettling, but at least she could tell him how wrong he’d been about her, and if it was her mother… Well, she’d very much like the chance to apologise to her, at least, for going missing like she had.
George might never forgive her, but she had to hope that her mother might at least try.
Liv having smashed her phone against the wall in her fit of emotion the night before, Helen knows there’s a 50-50 chance that it’s hers ringing, and when she checks, it is.
“You don’t have to answer that.” Liv reminds her, a little gentler than she normally might have been. Helen can tell the pain of what happened is still raw, and that Liv likely doesn’t want to see her go through the same thing, though while she appreciates the sentiment, finding out that her whole family died hating her is more than enough motivation for Helen to answer the call.
Painful as it will be, it could be the only chance she has to clear her name.
“Hello?” She asks, doing her best to keep her voice steady.
“Hello, is this— Oh, this blasted thing,” Helen hers the person on the other end of the phone fumbling with a piece of paper. It’s surprisingly loud through the tinny speaker, and she finds herself pulling the phone away from her ear, only just pressing it back in time to hear her own name.
“Um, pardon?” She asks, trying her best to place the voice, though it’s so far managing to evade her.
“I’m looking for Helen Sinclair?”
Well, it certainly isn’t her mother, and while there’s something of her father behind the words, whoever it was sounded far too soft spoken to be him; He’d been an authoritarian in every aspect of his life, and Helen couldn’t see him having changed much in his old age. Still, she’d spoken to George a few hours before, and it certainly wasn’t him, and Harry never had managed to fully get rid of that lisp which had plagued him right through their childhood.
“This is she?” She says, her voice tentative.
She turns her back to give some illusion of privacy, and rather gratefully sees Liv tugging the Doctor away from her to try and give her what they can. She can still feel their eyes on her back, but it helps.
“Oh… You sound so grown up.” The man on the other end of the line takes a stunned breath, “I’m sorry, it was stupid of me not to think… I think in my head you’ll always sound fourteen.”
It’s then that the connection hits.
Helen very nearly drops the phone, the fingers of her free hand flying to her mouth in a vague attempt to stifle the gasp that escapes her.
"Oh..." She manages, her voce wavering as she tries to say anything at all. "Albie?"
This hurts so much more than she'd thought it would.
It isn’t anything new to know he was gone— She’d never seen him again after he’d been taken away, though the family had gotten word some months after he’d been released from prison that he’d been killed in an apparent mugging, though, given his criminal record, nobody had taken it very seriously.
Helen had always thought it terribly unfair that he hadn’t quite made it to his first Christmas post release.
She knew, realistically, that it could have been anyone from her own life- if the calls came from people you didn't get to say goodbye to. Helen had gone tearing out of her life so quickly that she'd had no chance to say goodbye to anyone.
She never for one moment considered that it could be him.
"Still quick on the draw, Elle." He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. Despite the tears in her eyes, it brings one to her face too; He'd always been a happy child, especially when contrasted against her father's aggression, Harry's pompousness, and her mother's beaten down attitude.
There’d been a lot of days when he was the only person in her house who could make her smile.
“I can’t believe you called.” She says, breathlessly, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.
Her heart is beating like a drum, and she doesn’t trust her shaky legs to hold her.
“Should I not have?” Albie asks, suddenly sounding hurt.
Helen feels her chest ache. How long had he spent putting off calling her, thinking that she might reject him just as quickly as everyone else did?
“I’m—” She swallows, hard. “I’m so glad you did.”
All at once there’s a hand on her back, and when she glances over, she sees Liv, trying her best to offer silent support. Helen feels a pang of guilt that she hadn’t done the same the night before.
“I wasn’t going to.” He admits, sounding almost ashamed, “Didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me, after— Well. After all these years… But, well. I’m around again, now, and I’d heard— I heard on the grapevine that you were working on a museum?”
It narrows down when he’s calling from a little, though given Helen had worked there for three years before Albie had died, she still finds herself struggling for what to say.
“I am, yes.” She says, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Department of linguistics. All a little boring from the outside, I’m afraid.”
“My little sister working at the National Museum. Oh I’d have loved to have seen father’s face when you told him that news.”
Helen lets out a watery chuckle.
“Oh, it was.” She promises. “It killed him the day my degree surpassed Harry’s.”
“Oh I’ll bet.” He says, with an almost childish giddiness in his tone— as though they were still sitting at the bottom of the garden, plotting mischief together while the adults had their backs turned. “I’m so proud of you, Elle.”
It’s the first time she’s ever heard that from someone in her family, and she has to cover her mouth again to stifle a sob.
“I’m afraid I’m running out of coins for the booth.” He says, and once again that familiar ache sets in. “But I’ll— Am I alright to call again? When you’re not busy, of course.”
“Of course.” Helen says quickly, as though she will ever have a chance like this again. “Any time you like. I’ve missed you.”
"Then I'll call." He assures her, "I'll- Erm. Ah. They can't keep you lot locked up in that museum at Christmas, now can they? I assume you'll be at father's Christmas day but Christmas Eve, maybe?"
"Christmas..." Helen nods, breathlessly, and her heart breaks all over again. "Sounds wonderful."
"Excellent. Well I should-"
"I love you." She blurts, determined to get it out before the connection is severed. " I'm sorry we haven't gotten to spend more time together, but I really do love you."
"I love you too. You made every rotten day in that house better."
Helen bit back another sob.
"Hey- Hey don't cry, Elle. I'll call again soon, I promise."
"You better." She says, though she knows he won't. It's all in the pretence.
"Bye, Helen." He says, and something about him using her full name brings on fresh tears. They're coming too fast for wiping them on her sleeves to do much good, now.
"Goodbye," She begins, but the line is cut before she gets the chance to say anything more. He must have run out of time. "...Albie."
At some point in the conversation the hand on her back has become an arm around her waist, and Helen doesn't even realise how much she's been leaning on Liv for support until the hand holding her phone falls, letting the device fall limply onto the concrete.
"It's okay. You're okay." Liv promises, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "I've got you."
Helen lets out a sob, and all of a sudden Liv's arms are wrapped around her, holding her as though she can block out every bad thing in the Universe. Helen holds on tightly, burrying her face in Liv's shoulder.
It isn't okay, but Liv is here. Maybe, strong as she seems, she can't hold back the tide, but as she holds Helen tight, the world seems just a little brigter, again.
She isn't okay, and she very much doubts Liv is either, but at least this time they have someting that neither of them had the first time around. At least this time they're together.
Maybe that can be enough.
