𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐠𝐞┃ Anthony Lockwood┃1┃

Chapter Fifteen - Archive Antics

The next afternoon, the Lockwood and Co trio took a short walk to the Baker Street Underground station. It was good to be outdoors again, and in pleasant sunlight too. Each of them felt the change; their mood had lifted. Nola's nightmare and moment of weakness had not been mentioned by herself nor Lockwood since it had happened, and she would prefer to keep it that way. George was oblivious to its existence entirely. 

They had all put on casual and comfortable clothes. Lockwood wore his signature long, black leather coat that emphasised his slimness and easy stride. George wore a hideous puffy jacket with a high elasticated waistband that emphasised his bottom, though it did quite well at disguising his overly-vibrant, all orange outfit. Nola had on her usual gear: black leather coat, black roll-neck jumper, black leather shorts, tights, and her usual chunky boots. Basically, a lot of black. Her choppy hair, of which she cuts herself, was full of volume and tossed over to one side. Black eyeliner ran across her eyelids, and her thick, long lashes were coated in mascara. She looked, and felt, much more like herself than she did last night. They all wore their rapiers on their waist belts. These – and the cuts and bruises on their faces – were the marks of their profession and their status: people moved aside for them as they went by.

After locating the Jubilee Line within the maze-like Underground station, they hopped onto the next train and made their way to Green Park. They stood silent and serious as the train rattled through the tunnels on the five-minute journey. No one spoke. The eyes of the crowd followed them as they alighted and set off along the platform. They left the station hastily and started up Piccadilly. Afternoon light lanced steeply between tall buildings; they walked from bright sun to blue shadow and back again. Preparations for the evening were already under way. A salt-spreader pushed his cart along the roadside, scattering fresh grains left and right like snow.

Nola was pleased to let her bruised muscles stretch out as she walked; it was nice to feel her strength returning. Lockwood was limping slightly, but otherwise full of zest. He'd removed the wrapped bandages from his wounded arm to let the sunshine bathe his skin.

The trio travelled up a side-road, under a great stone arch and out onto the sweeping curve of Regent Street. Not far ahead, a stand that had been set up on the pavement immediately intrigued Nola. Her sense of smell was immediately heightened, and she could feel her mouth salivating. 

"Oh my God." She gasped, feeling a deep grumble erupt in the pit of her stomach. 

George looked at Nola with a confused amazement on his features. "Jesus Christ, Nola. That sounded like you just released some kind of beast from your gut." 

"I think I did." Nola laughed weakly, before placing her hands over her stomach. "Sorry, I'm just starving. And I can smell chips and gravy. Oh, and cheese!" 

Lockwood rolled his eyes playfully, chuckling at his colleague. He rooted his hand into his trouser pocket and fished out a £2 coin. "Here. Go get some." 

Nola looked up at Lockwood through her eyelashes, feeling a small grin form on her lips. "Really?" 

"Yes, really. Considering the ghastly noise that your stomach just produced, and the fact you are truly obsessed with cheese, there's no other choice. Now, go on." Lockwood placed the coin in the centre of Nola's palm. She squeaked giddily before skipping away to the pop-up food stand across the way. 

"You two are just something else." George clicked his tongue loudly.

Lockwood's head snapped in his direction. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Ever since that night at the Hope house, you're as thick as thieves." George looked at Lockwood accusingly. 

Lockwood, however, did not have the time to answer before Nola came bouncing back towards them, humming happily. She held a red and white striped cone in her hand, which was oozing with melted cheese and thick gravy. A horror to some, yet a delight for Nola.