Chapter Text
The first time Lucy broke out into song she was still quite young. It wasn’t unusual for her mother or sisters to find her softly humming to herself as she hung the lavender bundles or played in the meadows. What made the instance so notable was the song she was singing.
London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down.
“Where did you learn that one girl,” her father snapped at her. Lucy’s eyes widened in terror, but she couldn’t seem to stop. She continued singing for five straight minutes.
“Stop that blasted racket,” her mother screamed when she started the song again.
“Ma,” Mary said in the same way you would try to tame a wild animal. “She can’t. It's her soulmate.”
“Rubbish,” Mrs. Carlyle spat, “The brat just wants attention.” Lucy shook her head violently from side to side, but her mouth kept moving.
SMACK. Lucy’s head whipped to the side as her cheek exploded with pain.
“Stop that at once girl,” Mrs. Carlyle seethed. In her head, Lucy started to sing back to whoever she was connected to.
Please stop friend. It hurts to sing so much. Please stop friend. Sing again another day.
As if they heard her, the song ended and Lucy was able to sob her apologies to her mother and father.
She went to bed hungry and bruised.
**
It wasn’t until Year 4 that anyone explained to Lucy what a soulmate was. The teacher explained that they were your perfect partner be it romantic or platonic. They completed you and your soul longed to find them. To help soulmates find each other, for reasons beyond scientific explanation, if one was singing, the other would burst out into the same song and would be compelled to continue until the other ceased. Once the pair accepted the soulmate bond, the shared singing would stop.
Lucy knew that she had a soulmate. They’d been singing most of her childhood, to the ire of her parents. However, the person had recently stopped unless it was some sort of school or religious song. She missed it some days. It gave her hope that there was someone out there that would not hit her for simply existing or loathe her for taking too much hot water.
Lucy started to try a sing something once a day. Sometimes it was a song she’d heard on the television that her parents could not tear their eyes from. Sometimes she made up songs. But still, her soulmate remained silent.
**
She was working for Jacobs the next time her soulmate sang. Nothing crazy or distracting. A little mnemonic that agents used to remember the various wards used to keep visitors at bay. Lucy knew the pattern too, though she’d never put it to music. She and Norrie were sitting in an iron circle waiting for the boys to finish their round of temperature and talent readings.
“Lucy what are you doing,” Norrie asked as Lucy began to softly sing the mnemonic. Lucy shrugged.
“Come on Lucy. It's not funny,” Norrie said pushing softly on her friend's shoulder. Lucy pulled out her notebook and pen. Sorry, my soulmate was scribbled out in short order.
“Oh,” Norrie said a sad smile on her face. “You never said anything about it.”
It's not something I like to talk about was quickly scribbled out.
“Have you ever sung back,” Norrie asked.
Every now and again Lucy wrote. Not a lot recently.
“How else are you supposed to find them if you don’t sing?” Norrie seemed confused.
Lucy shrugged. She wasn’t certain she wanted to find her soulmate. Her mother and father had never seemed happy. Her sisters didn’t seem happy with their partners. Why would it be any different for her?
**
That night, at the mill, with ghost-locked Norrie beside her, Lucy screamed and sang her heart out. Anything to keep the terror at bay. She felt sorry for her soulmate as she screamed the lyrics to every one of her and Norrie’s favorite songs.
When Jacobs entered the building in the morning, Lucy was singing All I Ever Wanted Was Everything. Her voice barely audible.
Even as they loaded her onto the ambulance, she continued to croak out the words to songs. She didn’t stop singing until the paramedic dosed her with a sedative on the way to the hospital.
The days that followed were quiet. The nights screamed. Whenever Lucy would wake up from a nightmare, she would find her cassette player and listen to Cruel World by the Phantograms over and over again. She’d sing herself to sleep along with the cassette.
One night during the inquest, when Lucy was too exhausted and bruised to sing, her soulmate surprised her. They were singing a soft soulfully piece that spoke to Lucy telling her everything would be alright.
Stars Shining Bright Above
Night breezes seems to whisper I love you
Birds singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me
Say nighty night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me
Stars fading but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear
Just saying this
Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams, whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
Stars fading but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear
Just saying this
Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams, whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
As they finished the song, Lucy found herself in a deep and dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.
**
They continued like that for nearly a week. If Lucy didn’t sing to her soulmate, they would sing to her. She was sure they were sick of her punk and rock choices at this point, just as she wished they would sing something other than jazz. Regardless, it was the closest she’d felt to someone other than Norrie since ever.
As the coroner delivered their findings, she found herself wishing for their company, a song softly playing in her head to ward off the terrible thoughts that followed.
Then her mother slapped her for refusing to return to Jacobs and Co. Maybe her soulmate would have stopped it and whisked her away like a princess in a fairy tale. Or they’d know just the right words to sing to calm her nerves. As she lay in her bed thinking over her options, it was clear she needed to get out. Perhaps London, like she and Norrie had talked about. She could get a job with an agency, earn her 4th grade and get her life back on track.
She sang London Calling by The Clash that night. She hoped that her soulmate would understand what it meant. They’d come looking for her, and they’d be happy.
**
As Lucy approached 35 Portland Row her anxiety began to grow. She was out of money and options. Maybe she should have taken a flyer from that nutter at the train station. A last resort at the end of a long line of disappointment.
The boy at the door couldn’t have been much older than she was. He was strange in his flannel, seeming to care more about food than job interviews. At least he wasn’t Mr. Lockwood. It meant she still had a chance at a good first impression.
“You win there was one more,” the boy said as he led Lucy into the home's front sitting room.
“No, you win,” the tall thin person at the fireplace said, “I checked the list that was the last one.”
“Then who’s this,” the boy asked turning to look at Lucy again. She stuck to the doorway as if frozen in place. The tall thin person turned and met her eye. Lucy gulped as her eyes raked over the boy. He had to be her age, or a bit older. His dark suit and white shirt made him look sallow and tired, though his eyes were keen and curious. They stared at each other for longer than necessary.
Something about the boy drew her to him. She wanted to know everything about him starting with his taste in music.
“Hello, I’m Anthony Lockwood,” he said, a smile quirking the corner of his lips.
**
Lucy couldn’t believe her luck. She’d gotten the job and housing in one fell swoop. The attic bedroom was a bit dusty and filled with the remnants of Lockwood’s childhood, but it was cozy. She already felt more at home here than she ever had with her mother and sisters.
When she entered the library later that night to ask Lockwood about everything she found him reading a magazine, an old record player going in the background. She swore she recognized the words that the soulful voice was singing. She sat there for a long while just listening to the record and the flipping pages of Lockwood’s magazine.
“Lucy,” Lockwood shook her awake.
“huh,” Lucy mumbled as she slowly opened her eyes.
“You fell asleep. I was getting ready to turn in and figured you wouldn’t want a crick in your neck,” Lockwood explained.
“Oh thanks,” Lucy said awkwardly.
“Goodnight Lucy,” Lockwood smiled at her.
“Sleep well Lockwood,” she said as she stood.
**
Adjusting to 35 Portland Row didn’t take nearly as long as Lucy expected. George and Lockwood were kind and considerate, even if George forgot to wear trousers sometimes. They encouraged her to do things that made her happy when they weren’t working and gave her space when she needed it.
She and her soulmate continued to exchange songs, but not as frequently as before. Her soulmate’s songs became more overt declarations of love, while she stayed in her punk rock comfort zone.
After the Bickerstaff case, her soulmate’s songs were all apology songs confusing Lucy even more. Did her soulmate know who she was? Why hadn’t they told her? Did they not what to be with her?
An invitation to another Fittes Ball arrived on their doorstep in the weeks following Bickerstaff. Lockwood was still in a sling, though he continued to insist it wasn’t necessary anymore. He gave Lucy his credit card and instructions to find a new dress and shoes for the night.
He looked shocked when she descended the stairs in a midi-length black dress that seemed to shimmer in the hallway lights. Her heeled boots were practical but gave her some additional height. Her head reached just above Lockwood’s shoulders.
“Hey,” she smiled.
“Hi,” Lockwood said. George just blinked. The necklace Lockwood had given her sparkled at her throat. Lockwood offered her his arm. George rolled his eyes.
“I’m going to check on the cab,” George said leaving the two of them.
Once the door was closed, the pair shared a look and a soft smile.
“I didn’t expect you to wear it,” Lockwood said quietly.
“Of course, I’d wear it. You gave it to me,” Lucy said softly.
“It….” Lockwood choked on his words, “It means a lot that you are.”
The party was in full swing when the three of them arrived. George immediately disappeared in the throng of people leaving Lucy and Lockwood to their own devices. They mingled for a bit. Well, Lockwood mingled. Lucy just stood next to him with a glass of champagne in one hand and a canape plate in the other.
The band started to play a song that sounded all too familiar to Lucy.
Stars Shining Bright Above
Night breezes seems to whisper I love you
“May I have this dance, Luce,” Lockwood asked, offering her his hand.
“I…. Lockwood…..” Lucy stammered unable to find the right word.
“Trust me,” he all but whispered. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Ok.” She nodded. Lockwood led Lucy to the dancing and turned so they faced each other. He put on a hand on her waist while his other hand gripped hers. Lucy placed a sweaty palm on his shoulder allowing him to lead.
They swayed there just enjoying each other's company until they reached a part that Lucy recognized from Lockwood’s record collection. The singers were doing the call-and-response version of the song.
Lockwood grinned at her and in a low voice sang “Stars fading but I linger on, dear”
Lucy’s mouth opened of its own accord, reading the line back to him. Her eyes widened as he continued. His voice soothed her anxious mind convincing her that everything would be alright.
“Still craving your kiss”
As Lucy’s mouth opened, she managed to take control enough to do the version of the song they both knew “Oh how I crave your kiss.”
Lockwood was grinning at her. “I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear”
“Oh how you linger on,” Lucy sang back. Lockwood stopped singing and pulled Lucy close.
“Hello there,” he whispered.
Lucy squeaked unsure of what to do in the moment.
“How about we take this somewhere more private,” Lockwood offered. They’d stopped swaying and it had drawn the notice of other dancing couples.
Lockwood pulled Lucy into a quieter area away from the music. They stopped in a little side coordinator off the main lobby hidden behind a pillar.
“You’re my….” Lucy stammered.
“Soulmate yes,” Lockwood teased pulling Lucy against him. His arms wrapped around her making her feel safe and secure.
“When,” she asked.
“The first night. I was singing after you fell asleep and well,” Lockwood tipped his head as if that would explain what happened next.
“And you didn’t tell me,” Lucy asked hitting Lockwood’s chest.
“I wanted to get to know you first, “Lockwood explained, his eyes pleading with her to not push him away.
“You could have said something,” Lucy argued.
“I tried,” Lockwood groaned.
“You did,” Lucy asked in disbelief.
“Tell me Luce, did you dream a little dream of me,” he asked a mischievous grin on his face.
Lucy hit his chest, a pink flush rising on her cheeks. “Of course I did you idiot.”
Then she pulled him down and kissed him.
As they kissed, Lucy felt something inside her settle into place. A missing piece sliding into place. She was lighter, happier, and complete. A hand was in her hair, cupping the back of her head to give Lockwood a better angle with which to ravish her mouth. As they pulled away to catch their breath, she realized that she would crave his kisses for the rest of her life