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I didn’t know what heaven was supposed to feel like, or even if there really was one, but I could imagine it would be something fairly similar to this.
My body was loose and relaxed, breathing even, my eyes were closed and my skin was warm.
I could feel the presence of George, soundly asleep and snoring softly on one side of me and also Lockwood, who I knew was reading quietly on the other side.
Their proximity was most comforting to me, as always. I felt safe and I felt good. Two things that I very much didn’t take for granted, having not experienced them all that much before my arrival at Portland row.
I could hear waves lapping gently in the distance and people were laughing from somewhere that wasn’t quite near us. Right then, I felt a million miles away from the deep, suffocating, endless night that was ghost-torn London.
But I wasn’t thinking about that right now. We were having a rare day off and we’d decided to spend it together at the beach. We’d gotten up early and taken the train down and made it here just before it started to get busy, securing ourselves a nice quiet spot with the rocks at our back.
I sighed happily and wiggled my toes, feeling warm sand beneath my feet and I ran my fingers through it at my side.
“Luce, I’d say you were burning,” Lockwood’s disapproving voice penetrated my peace and quiet.
“Huh?” I pushed my sunglasses up onto the top of my head and sat up on my fluffy green towel, the towel, flipping myself over.
I’d been laying on my front, dozing on and off.
I looked over to where Lockwood was lying next to me, to find him studying me intently, his own sunglasses pushed down his nose. His deep, brown eyes peered at me over the top of them and his dark hair was flopped on his forehead.
Even he looked happier here I noticed, less jaded, a fact that pleased me more than it should really.
I leaned over to the cool box we’d brought with us and took out a bottle of water, sitting back down, legs crossed, to face him.
I swigged half the bottle and popped the cap back on.
“I said that you’re burning Luce. Your back is looking kind of pinkish,” Lockwood sat up now too and reached for the bottle I was holding, took it off me and drank the rest, his pale throat extended.
Interesting. He could have grabbed his own. Clearly he wasn’t worried about my cooties. I felt stupidly pleased as I watched his mouth around the lip of the bottle, where my mouth had just been. It was childish but it made me happy nonetheless.
I used his distraction with the water to quickly take him in, wondering if he was enjoying our little day at the beach as much as I was.
Lockwood’s tall frame looked completely relaxed as he sat there on his towel, long legs extended, firm stomach pulled taught as he leaned back on one hand.
I tried to be subtle as I squinted against the sun and raked my eyes over his body.
He was wearing some deep burgundy board shorts and nothing else.
I rarely saw him out of a suit, so it was really rather fascinating to me to see him in this casual state and it captivated me as much as seeing him in a t-shirt or a hoody did.
His skin was as pale as always, had an extra sheen of white to it in fact, courtesy of some factor fifty suncream.
His legs, which I’d never really had opportunity to notice up close before, were actually kind of hairy. They were as toned as the rest of him, due to his obsession with rapier training.
I’d already seen the dark hair that ran from his navel down to his waist line, back when I’d caught him straight out of the shower in my bedroom about two months previous, but my eyes still caught there now.
I brought my eyes back to Lockwood’s face, only when I realised he was speaking to me.
“Earth to Lucy,” His voice had an amused, low quality to it and he was grinning his charming, crooked grin.
I could feel my face flame at being caught out when looking at him. My skin somehow now felt so much hotter under his gaze, warmer even than the mid August sun had been able to achieve.
“Sorry,” I muttered, flipping my sunglasses back down, hoping they’d provide me with some cover maybe. “What did you say?”
“I said that you need more suncream on your back, you’re going to suffer this evening if you don’t re-apply it,” Lockwood smiled easily at me and my tummy fluttered.
“You’re such a mother goose,” I huffed, but I craned my neck to look over my shoulder. I couldn’t see my back but my shoulders themselves were definitely looking a little red.
I looked down at my chest for good measure, noticing the front of me definitely had taken on a pink tinge also.
“I think you might be right,” I conceded, poking the exposed skin just above my boobs, watching it go white and then red again when I lifted my finger.
Lockwood made a little pained noise that I couldn’t quite decipher.
“I’m always right,” he told me, and I don’t think I imagined that his voice was a little lower than earlier.
Holly, bless her, had generously leant me a pair of her bathers for the day.
She wasn’t with us because she was taking her girlfriend to the museum, an event that even George had scoffed at in this heatwave. But whatever floated her boat, I guess.
I kind of figured maybe she was trying to delay letting her girlfriend actually meet us and I couldn’t blame her really, we were a right motley crew.
The bathers she had leant me were a modest little number that I’d bitten her hand off to borrow, when she’d offered.
They were a deep, flattering, sapphire blue and they put to rest all of my fears of itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka dot bikinis.
They covered my stomach area and gave me about as much coverage as I could hope for from a swimsuit. They had one flaw and that was that they were a size too small, seeing as Holly was a fair bit thinner than I was.
Don’t get me wrong, I was at peace by this point with my body. It did the job. I was strong and defined and I thought my legs, though a little short, were alright.
So the bathers being a size too small hadn’t really mattered to me, anything to save me having to go and try on and buy swimwear.
I’d figured they were kind of stretchy and they’d probably be an alright fit. Holly was taller and slimmer than me, I was curvier and shorter, so it would mostly balance out, right?
It did.
Except, around the chest region, where Holly didn’t have much at all going for her, the bathers squished my boobs up so much I had to keep yanking it up at the front, in case the girls made a bid for freedom and fell out.
I’d taken my t-shirt and shorts off when we’d sat down on our towels earlier and Lockwood, who had been trying to stick a parasol into the sand one handed, had glanced at me, done a neck breaking double take, gawped and then promptly dropped his entire 99 cone with a flake right on top of George’s very unamused head.
Poor George had to go for a swim to get clean, leaving me with a red faced Lockwood and what was frankly an astonishing amount of intense, awkward eye contact.
Now, I noticed Lockwood was looking at me rather smoulderingly again, having popped his sunglasses down next to him on his towel, waiting to see what I’d do with his sunburn information.
I ignored him along with the fluttering in my tummy and grabbed up the bottle of suncream from George’s bag, accidentally nudging his arm in the process.
“I think you’ll find I have the largest one, you imbeciles,” George mumbled in his sleep and gave a loud snore, before settling off again.
“What the hell does that mean?” I covered my mouth to muffle my laugh.
“God, the mind boggles, doesn’t it Luce,” Lockwood chuckled. “It’s George. Could be anything.”
I squirted some suncream on my hand and started slathering it on my legs, then I did my arms and my chest, before working my way up to my shoulders.
I realised I couldn’t reach my back. Holly had helped me out this morning, she’d dropped in to pick up a few calls before we’d left. Luckily, when I was getting ready she had popped some on my back for me, but now I realised I was a little stuck.
I looked up biting my lip in nervous resignation, knowing I was going to have to ask Lockwood.
I met his eyes and if I thought the look he’d given me earlier was smouldering, christ, this one was going to set me on fire.
I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just offered him the bottle with a raised eyebrow and turned my back on him, sitting crossed legged on my towel, hoping he’d get the hint.
I could hear him shuffle closer, heard the rustle of his newspaper as he put it aside and then felt the warmth of his body as he placed himself behind me, on his knees.
I stared purposefully at the cool box, trying not to think about what this was going to feel like.
I heard Lockwood open the cap on the bottle and I pulled my hair up into a messy bobble, to make sure he could get the back of my neck.
It’s suncream, it’s not sexy, it’s suncream, it’s not sexy. He’s your boss, he’s your best friend, he likes flirting with you, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s pointless to give in, it’s not going to happen, not really. It’s suncream, it’s not sexy!
I started repeating it, as a mantra in my head, hoping it would help me survive this.
The second his hand touched my back, cream cool and fingers warm and firm, I jumped a mile.
“You ok Luce?” His breath tickled the back of my neck.
“Yeah. Sorry. Cold,” I mumbled.
I was going to die. After all the ghosts, fights with relic men, terrifying and dangerous cases, I was going to die because Lockwood was going to unintentionally cause me to combust on a beach, just by touching my back.
He began to work the cream into my skin and it didn’t feel functional at all. He was taking his sweet time, the dickhead, digging his long fingers into the muscles of my tight shoulders and I accidentally let out a rather loud, breathy moan.
His fingers stilled.
I looked at George’s face. Still asleep. Thank god.
Lockwood began his suncream massage again and this time swept both hands up and over my shoulders and back down my back, dipping just below the bathers.
“You err… I need to move your straps so you don’t get a tan line,” Lockwood said quietly behind me, voice breathy.
I nodded my consent to that and he pulled the straps down one side of the bathers, then the other, going torturously slow about it all.
I shivered and felt him scoot even closer. He was still kneeling, so his thighs pressed all along my lower back and I leaned into him.
He smoothed his hands down both my arms, leaning over me and I held my breath.
“I already did my arms,” I found my voice, although it didn’t even sound like me, sounded like a bloody plague victim it was so hoarse.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, but he swept his hands back up my arms again and he didn’t sound sorry to me at all.
He gently pulled on my hair tie, releasing it and he ghosted a finger softly down the middle of my spine. I arched into his touch, so gentle and so new to me.
“It was meant to be my turn to torture you, while scantily clad,” Lockwood muttered into my hair and I could feel his mouth graze my ear.
I whipped my head to the side, turned myself halfway around on my towel, because none of this felt like a joke anymore. I was just about ready to beat him with the cooler if he didn’t actually make a proper move.
He sat down from his kneeling position and his face was so close I could have counted his eyelashes. His pupils were blown wide, he had his teeth set in his lower lip and his eyes flicked down to my mouth. We were mere inches apart.
Then all of a sudden, he sat back abruptly, grabbing his newspaper and positioning it across his lap.
“Lockwood, what the hell…” I began but I was cut off.
“Alright Tony, fancy seeing you here. Haven’t seen you two since the toilet incident at the Fittes party. Having a losers day out is it?” A voice rang out from behind me.
“Piss off Kipps,” Lockwood put his sunglasses back on in a clear dismissal and he picked his newspaper back up.
“Hey Quill,” I sighed, resigned and turned to face Kipps.
Guess this wasn’t going to be the day where I won naked chicken then.
“Alright Lucy?” Quill smiled down at me and huh, he got my name right. “I wasn’t calling you a loser by the way. Just these two.”
As if that was any better, insulting my friends. Quill was wearing a t-shirt, shorts and some flip flops and the sight was as strange as seeing Lockwood in his shorts. It looked unnatural, seeing him out of uniform.
By the way Kipps was eyeing my bathing costume with a strange, curious sort of look on his face, perhaps he thought the same about me.
“If we’re losers, so are you lot. But, yeah, I’m not too bad,” I nodded back. “You?”
“Bit better now, funnily enough… Kat, Ned and Bobby are back up there at the beach cafe if you fancy joining us for a burger or something later,” Kipps addressed solely me.
“We’ve got ham and mustard sandwiches and a flask of tea, thanks for the offer though Kippy,” Lockwood frowned up at Quill and he put his paper down.
“I wasn’t asking you, Tony,” Kipps crossed his arms.
And oh, here we go.
George took that moment to fart loudly in his sleep, god bless him. I was ever so grateful for the distraction.
Kipps’ face took on a look of horror as I doubled up laughing, snorting attractively and George jerked awake with the sudden influx of noise.
“What’s going on? I thought I heard a donkey braying,” He rubbed his eyes sleepily, then he noticed Kipps.
“Your offensive unconscious flatulence, thats what’s going on,” Kipps held his nose and starting walking backward. “Lucy… maybe I’ll see you later?”
I looked around to glance at Lockwood, who was watching me over his sunglasses again, posture stiff, hands clenched into fists.
I looked back at Kipps.
“I’ve got all I need here, thanks for the offer though Quill,” I waved politely.
“Suit yourself Carlyle. You know where we are if you change your mind,” Kipps took his leave, un-offended by my rebuttal. I liked that about him, he was easy to read.
Unlike some emotionally constipated dickheads I knew.
Lockwood was now fiddling with the pages of the newspaper paper again, clearly trying not to look at me.
“Oi. Lockwood,” I threw sand on his newspaper.
“Luce!” He exclaimed, forgetting to be awkward. “There’s sand everywhere now.”
I grinned at him and he met my eyes.
“Fancy a swim?” I offered.
“Oh. Yeah. I’d like that,” His eyes glinted and he stood up, offered me a hand to pull me up.
His fingers lingered on mine, touching me as if to make sure I’d really stayed there, with him.
I rolled my eyes and smiled at him and he would know what that meant, he always did. We were great at non verbal communication, it was the verbal we struggled with.
His face broke out in a wide, cocky grin, the one that made me want to simultaneously strangle him and snog his face off.
Which is exactly when a seagull flew overhead with a menacing squawk and let loose with a flying poo, which splashed down right onto Lockwood’s foot.
I jumped back out of the firing range and promptly tripped over a prone George and I went flying, landing butt first and getting a face full of sand.
Lockwood’s face was like thunder, George cursed us both to every deity he knew, and some that I’m fairly sure he made up too.
“I think we should head home soon,” Lockwood held his foot out and hopped toward the shore when we’d partially recovered, me in tow, still holding my side from the stitch I was getting.
Every time I looked at him, his usual cool composure blown to hell, I started giggling again.
George refused to come with us, said he’d watch the stuff, but I think he secretly wanted to crack on with the sandwiches.
I dipped my toes into the cool sea when we got there with a happy sigh, and I watched as Lockwood waded straight into the clear water, eager to sort out his crappy foot.
It was cooling off now, late afternoon had hit and there were barely any people around. Everyone was eager not to miss trains and buses and god forbid, get stuck out in the dark. But George, Lockwood and I weren’t afraid of that. We’d packed our rapiers in the parasol bag.
I swam out to meet Lockwood where he stood minutes later, my toes just touching the sandbank, the dying sun beating down on us both.
I swayed with the tide and he put a hand on my hip to steady me.
I looked at him then, his hair dripping rivulets of salt water onto his face, his expression soft as he took me in. Despite how relaxed he looked, the dark circles under his eyes were still there and I understood that this wasn’t easy for him, to let someone in again, to trust someone. To care.
I smiled up at him, trying to show him I understood, and I willed it to be enough for now.
I could feel it. We weren’t quite there yet, we were still going carefully, despite how much we may have wanted it and that truly was ok.
His answering grin down at me said it was more than enough, just for today.
His eyes took on this mischievous glint and he promptly dunked my head under the waves and I came up furious. We entered into a splashing battle, intensity of which, that rivalled most of the cases we’d ever been on.
I jumped on his back with a war cry at one point and I managed to tumble him into a particularly powerful oncoming wave and he came up spluttering.
I waded into the shallow water, shouting my victory to George as I hit the shoreline.
I looked back and noticed Lockwood wasn’t following, just lingering there in the deeper water.
“Come on Lockwood. I’m starving,” I called to him. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
“Er Luce,” He winced, voice carrying to reach me. “I don’t think this is quite my day… You know that time in the loo at the Fittes party?”
Why the hell was he bringing that up now?
“Yeah, what about it,” I called back, wading back into the shadows, toward him.
He backed up further, away from me.
“Well. Remember after that, at home, I said it was my turn next? You know to… you know… in our little game,” he swallowed, tripping over his words.
“Yeah, and?” I was flushing again, thinking about how this started, his bare bum and then that night in the toilets.
“I think it might be my turn again,” He groaned.
Something tangled around my foot. I reached down and pulled up a soaked pair of burgundy board shorts.
I held them up, eyes wide, realising what was keeping him in the deeper water.
“Luce…” his voice warned, so authoritative, eyes narrowing.
But he held no power here.
I grinned broadly at him, slung his shorts over my shoulder and proceeded to make my way back to where George was sat.
“Lucy Carlyle!” Lockwood shouted, scandalised. “I’ll get you back for this! My revenge will be written about for years to come if you don’t bring them to me immediately. You’ve been warned!”
“Can’t wait to see what you come up with!” I shouted back over my shoulder.
This was becoming a hilarious little pattern and god, I loved it.
I did take his shorts back to him, but only after I ate my sandwich.
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