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It was cold and drizzling with rain on Portland Row when the black cab pulled up outside number 35. Fatigue had set in a long time ago, her eyes felt sore and gritty as first light of early morning crept over the horizon. Thanking and paying the driver, Lucy gripped her large duffle and exited the warm cab out into the chilly morning air. As the cab pulled away, she stared at the building. It had been her home now for years and she still felt the relief when she saw it, knowing she was back, safe and loved.
Going back to the place that had pretty much started her on the path to becoming a resident of 35 Portland Row hadn’t been easy. Even given the circumstances. Digging in her pocket for her key, Lucy slowly walked through the gate and up the few steps to the black front door.
Lucy was tired, physically and mentally. So tired, it was like a weighted blanket had been placed on her shoulders. In hindsight, maybe travelling all night hadn’t been her best move but she couldn’t stand to be there anymore. With the judging looks and scornful glares. Sitting in that house that held the past in a heavy handed fist. Alone. It was rare that she was alone anymore.
Through blurry eyes and a jaw cracking yawn, she turned the key and pushed the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible. Out of respect for the sleeping occupants of the house. Putting her rapier in the cracked flower pot and resting her bag against the wall, she breathed a sigh of relief at being home. Her eyes darted sluggishly around the walls, taking it in. Still the same as when she left a week ago, with cluttered walls and the lingering smell of burnt toast. She’d missed it. Had longed for it. She then locked the door behind her.
Silence had settled around her. Her muscles ached as she ventured towards the kitchen, intending to switch the kettle on. She wanted a cup of tea then she would tiptoe up the stairs for a shower then collapse into bed. Yes, that sounded like a solid plan. She needed to wash away the grimy feeling travelling always left her with. She wanted to rinse the last week away and not bring it to her bed.
Grabbing her favourite mug, she set about preparing her drink. As the kettle boiled, Lucy stared out the kitchen window. Gazing at the large apple tree that grew there, tears began to gather in her eyes. God, she was tired. She hadn’t been sleeping well these last few days, only managing a couple of hours of restless sleep before waking. Her emotions were right at the surface, having risen slowly throughout the journey home after being squashed down for the last week. It had been the only way she could have managed being back there. She didn’t know what to call it. It wasn’t home, this was. There had been heartache, fear and tears. There was hate and judgement.
Shaking her head to clear the depressive fog and blink away the gathering tears, she quickly finished making her tea and sank into one of the dining room chairs. As if on auto pilot, Lucy quietly sipped the steaming cup. Her thoughts were becoming more jumbled as the seconds ticked by. Nothing sticking for more than a few moments before another would stumble along. She eyed the clock on the wall. 4:00am.
When the last dregs from her mug had been swallowed, she placed the mug on the table with a muted clink of porcelain against clothed wood. She then stood up and made her way back through the house to the staircase and ascended all the way to the very top, to the attic. She’d stopped by her bag on the way to pull some clean pyjamas out. She didn’t use this room much anymore but it was the furthest away from the others that she didn’t have to worry about the running water waking them up. She just hoped the old plumbing didn’t creak too loudly. Staring at herself in the small mirror that hung above the sink she saw a pale girl with heavy bagged eyes staring at her. She looked dreadful. Brown hair hung limply around her face and there was a smudge of black, most likely from the train, smeared across her cheek. Her eyes were red rimmed and slightly sunken into her face.
Turning away abruptly, Lucy turned the hot tap of the shower to begin warming up and stripped out of her clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. Sticking her hand under the showerhead and determined the temperature was about right and stepped in. Pleasantly warm water coated her body, chasing away the chill she hadn’t been aware had settled into her bones. She lent her arm against the cold, tiled wall and rested the forehead against it. Tears threatened again but she squeezed her eyes shut and willed them back. She wouldn’t cry, not for that woman. She didn’t deserve her tears.
Washing quickly, as her limited energy had waned to dangerously low levels. Drying and dressing just as quickly, she made her way silently down the stairs to the room she’d most wanted to be in.Theirs. It had been theirs for a while now. She’d moved in after spending most of her nights there, cuddled up together under the duvet after cases had gone on late into the night. He’d suggested it and there had been no doubt in her mind that there was where she wanted to be.
As quietly and slowly as she could, she grasped the handle and turned it. The room was dark and she could barely make out the outline of the various bits of furniture that dotted the room but she knew the layout. She could hear the slight breathing coming from across the room and the faint outline of someone laying in the bed. Lucy made her way to the side of the bed she slept in and lifted the covers, crawling into the warmth. There was slight movement from the other side of the bed and the heavy breathing changed as if the person was waking up slowly.
“Wha… Luce?” The voice was groggy and deep, sounded confused as if his brain hadn’t quite woken up yet.
“Shh… go back to sleep. We can talk in the morning.” Her own voice felt thick with fatigue and lack of use. Just a whisper.
“What?” His voice was clearer as he woke up fully. “What time is it? I thought you weren’t coming back for a couple more days?”
He’d scooted closer to her as he spoke. She could help but fall into his gravity and she was in his arms, wrapped up safe. She buried her face in his neck and breathed deep. His unique scent filled her senses and suddenly she was finally home. Tears burned again and that crushing weight she had been carrying from the second she’d stepped on the train a week ago was lifted.
“I… I couldn’t stay in that place any longer. I wanted to come home.” Her whispered voice shook slightly and his arms tightened around her. His hand had started a calming rhythm of stroking down her back.
“Hey, it’s ok. I missed you.” The soft kiss he placed on her damp hair set the tears that she had been keeping at bay over her lashes.
She silently wept into his neck and he silently let her. She wanted to tell him that she missed him too, that the only thing that had kept her going had been the phone calls they had shared but all she could do was hold him tight and cry all the tears she had suppressed. The overwhelmed feeling she had as she sorted out arrangements for the funeral, took care of the house she grew up in and its contents and dealt with the scorn of the local people had been drowning her.
Eventually, she pulled back and wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. She looked up and saw him staring at her as if gauging if she was alright. She tried to reassure him with a smile but that just made his brow dip into a small frown. He went to flick the bedside lamp on but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. She carefully pushed him to lay onto his back so she could place her head on his chest, right over his heart. She felt arms come around her and his fingers began to stroke down her spine.
“I’m so tired.” She breathed out. “I just want to sleep.” She felt her eyes drift close as she settled down, his heartbeat in her ears like a lullaby. He may have said something else but her brain had ceased paying attention as it sunk into a restful slumber, lulled by his comforting touch.
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Slowly, her sleep crusted eyes opened. The room was lighter than when she’d last opened her eyes but without knowing the time it was impossible to tell what the time was. Reaching out her arm to the other side of the bed, she felt the cool empty sheets. She felt more human now she’d finally rested. She didn’t feel so… raw now, so emotionally unsteady.
Lucy pushed herself up to look at the time, 4:00pm. She had slept for nearly 12 hours. Rubbing her eyes and stretching, she got out of bed. Her stomach had made itself known with the slight feeling of empty discomfort. She undressed and redressed in leggings and a long chunky jumper and left to use the bathroom and wash her face. Staring in the mirror, this time she seemed less on the edge and more rested. Her hair was a bit of a mess but was smoothed out easily with a few comb through with a damp brush.
Making her way down the stairs, Lucy couldn’t hear any movement but when she made her way to the kitchen, someone was sitting at the table.
“Hey, Holly.” Her voice was a little hoarse and she cleared her throat. “Where’s Lockwood and George?”
The girl in question startled, looked up from the notebook she had been working in. “Oh! Lucy, I didn’t hear you. George is at the Archives, researching for a case tonight and Lockwood has gone to stock up on supplies. How are you? I heard you got in late last night?”
While she had been talking, Lucy had gone over to flick the kettle on. She glanced back at the impeccably dressed girl and thought about her response. How was she? She didn’t really know.
“I’m… okay. Better than last night anyway. I was tired.” That was true, right? While she liked Holly, she didn’t really want to go into heavy detail, at least not yet.
“That’s good. Lockwood didn’t say much, just to let you sleep. We didn’t know how long you were going to sleep so we decided to continue prepping for the job tonight.” Holly was looking down and playing with the hair that had fallen over her shoulder as if she was unsure how Lucy would react, as if she didn’t know how to act around her.
Lucy just smiled at her. She made her cup of tea then grabbed a biscuit from the tin and set them both down on the table. Moving around the table, Lucy gave Holly a quick hug, again startling her once again.
“I’m just glad to be home.” They sat down, Holly went back to her notebook, a little bemused but had a small smile on her face. The two young women sat in silence and Lucy felt all the remaining tension she felt slowly bleed away as she sips her tea and nibbles her biscuit.
“Are you hungry? There are doughnuts in the cupboard.” Holly suddenly asks when she finishes her writing.
“Starving. I was just about to make some toast but a doughnut sounds a lot better.” Letting out an amused breath, she got out a small plate and the sugary food and went back to the table.
She’d taken a bite when she heard the door open and two voices seemingly arguing about something. She glanced towards the doors as it opened, revealing the person she’d been wanting to see since opening her eyes.
“I’m telling you Lockwood, there’s something more going on at that place.” George’s matter-of-fact tone was loud in the quiet kitchen. Lockwood looked as if he was going to respond but stopped when he saw her.
“Luce. You’re up. How are you feeling?” He’d walked up to stand next to her chair, scanning her face to try and gauge her mood, causing her to smile sweetly at him. She held her hand out to him and he slotted his into hers.
“I’m ok, a good night's sleep, food and being home does wonders.” She tugged him closer, just to have him close. “I missed home.” Being in this room with these people felt so different from the cold loneliness of her hometown. Being with people that actually cared about her made her feel so warm and safe.
Pots and pans had started to sound as George started making dinner, drawing Lucy out of her thoughts. Lockwood had let go of her hand to move a chair right next to hers and slung his arm over her shoulders so she could rest against him. He placed a quick kiss on her temple. Soon the pleasant smells of frying onions and garlic began to waft through the room.
“What were you talking about, George?” Lucy asked as she settled more comfortably in her seat.
As George began to explain about his doubts on that night's job, the last bit of hold that her hometown had on her finally let go. While the death of her mother didn’t solve her problems and she might always feel an amount of self-doubt, she knew she had people in her corner that would help lift her out of any hole she might fall in.
After George wrapped up explaining the night’s job, both he and Holly exited the Kitchen. Leaving Lockwood and her alone.
“Ok, now tell me what happened over the last few days.” Lockwood had turned to her, looking her straight in the face. His gaze was slightly intense, like he was searching for any indication of her true feelings.
She reached out for his hand pulling him closer and gave the smile that seemed to be reserved for him.
“It was… a lot. There was so much to sort out. No one would agree with each other and the town seemed wary of me. Mum didn’t have a lot of money so the house needed selling quickly to pay for the funeral. In the end, they just kind of shoved it on to me so I was the go between for everything because… someone had too.” She glanced at their entwined hands, relishing the feeling of him close, a feeling she’d missed. His steady presence, grounding her.
She looked up again at his face. His expression was gentle as he listened. “My sisters would flit between passive then arguing. I just kind of had to juggle it all. But yesterday afternoon was her funeral and I just wanted to go home. So I made sure everything was handled and went straight to the train station.”
“I’m sorry you had to do that all by yourself, Luce. I wish I could have been there for you.” Regret was written on his face.
“Me too but that job would have been too big for two people, with Kipps away and it being too late to cancel there wasn't much to do. We had a full week.” She placed her free hand on his cheek, stroking with her thumb. He leaned into her palm. “I’m… mostly okay. It might take a little time for me to process it all but I’ll be okay.”
She used the hand on his cheek to pull his lips to hers. Kissing him deeply like she’d been wanting to. He responded by pulling her even closer. Wrapping his arm around her. When their kiss ended, Lockwood pulled her so she was straddling his lap. Wrapping both arms around to his back, she buried her face into his neck and inhaled his crisp, clean scent.
“I'm just glad to be back home.” Her voice was muffled against his slightly covered neck.
They both sat, wrapped in each others warmth, listening to house move around them.