𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞┃ Anthony Lockwood┃2┃

Chapter Forty Eight - Practice Makes Perfect

Lockwood's sudden enthusiasm for the Aldbury Castle case was startling, not to say suspicious, but he was evasive when the others interrogated him. "It's clearly a fascinating cluster." He said. "All sorts of interesting features. That weird Creeping Shadow story, for a start – didn't you think that was worth investigating?" He gave them all one of his widest smiles. "At the very least, it'll get us away from London for a bit. We know the Winkmans were looking for James, and they're bound to be after us all now that we've raided their night market. It'll get us out of harm's way until the heat dies down."

"I don't feel particularly threatened." Nola said.

"Ooh, anything could happen, James. Anything. A bit of safe country air will do us the world of good..." He tapped his fingers on the desk. "Will there be anything else?"

"So the fact that there's an outpost of the Rotwell Institute a couple of miles up the road from the village doesn't have any bearing on it, then?" George said. That had been Nola's thought too.

"Oh, you remember that?" Lockwood wore his blandest expression. He scratched the side of his nose.

"Of course we do. Danny Skinner mentioned it, didn't he? He said they'd paid no attention to the problems of the village. Is it one of the research facilities on Holly's list?"

"Well, as a matter of fact it is." Lockwood said. "One of several, mind you, so there's no guarantee it's going to be relevant at all..." He shrugged. "Okay, look, I wouldn't say the presence of that base has put me off, exactly. We might take a squint at it while we're down there, assuming all the ghosts tramping around the place give us any peace. But the village is our primary concern. That's what we're being hired to sort out, and if we're going to head down there tomorrow, we'd better get ready."

The rest of the day passed swiftly. Lockwood sent George off to the Archives to research anything to do with the village and its history, and he sent Holly to Mullet's to order fresh salt and iron and arrange for them to be delivered to Waterloo Station. He himself stayed at home, being uncharacteristically quiet.

Nola too stayed at home. She was hiding out in the basement, performing rapier practice. Ghostbuster was circled up in the base of George's desk chair, dropping some of his loose hairs on the material cushion. Nola knew that the cat was doing it on purpose, simply to annoy George.  She knew that George would come home from his Archive expeditions, shaking his fist and cursing 'that damned cat!'. Nola briefly chuckled at the thought.

The rapier practice continued.

"GOD DAMN IT!" She soon cried out after carrying out a few more parries. She tossed the rapier back in the stand with a clatter and threw herself down in the chair, aggressively wiping the sweat from her brow on the back of her hand and huffing profusely. Her sudden outburst had clearly startled Ghostbuster, of whom was glaring at her as though she had just landed in the room via a UFO. "Don't you stare at me like that."

The black cat slinked off of the seat and began to meander up the basement stairs, away from Nola's clearly irritable state.

"Everything okay down here, James?"

Nola turned in her seat to see Lockwood standing rather sheepishly at the bottom of the basement staircase. She wasn't really surprised by his startled expression, considering she had just bellowed at the top of her lungs for no apparent reason. She sighed. "Yeah, sorry. I was just trying to practice with these new rapiers, but they're too heavy on one end. I can't get the balance right."

"Would you like some help? I cold practice with you, if you like."

Nola suddenly felt self-conscious. She looked at Lockwood; hair dashingly swept back, tie loosely strew around neck, smart trousers straight as a pin and tight on the thighs. She thought about her own appearance: skin glistening with sweat, hair piled into a messy up-do on the back of her head, clothes plain and black and boring.