SHATTERING LIFE | Anthony Lockwood | Lockwood and Co

9. John Fairfax

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Like a bitter taste on my tongue
Like the storm that I can't outrun

– When the Chaos Comes (PUBLIC NOISE, Ruelle)

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The ride to Combe Carey Hall thankfully wasn't too long and lasted only a few minutes because I didn't know how long I would still bear to be squeezed from both sides by Lucy and George in the backseat. Meanwhile, in the front, Lockwood occasionally asked a couple of more questions about Mr. Fairfax and from Ellie's tone I knew that she was getting tired of it as well.

We drove past a couple of fields covered by emerald green grass. From time to time we spotted a couple of workers who were packing up since the sun was going to set down soon. The air whipped our faces as the roofless vehicle sped forward which made me grateful for the time I spent braiding my hair in the morning. The last thing I needed was my blond locks to messily fly around my face while fighting off a ghost – which could even cost my life. And the sight of Lucy holding back her shorter hair convinced me even more that my decision was very practical.

Finally, the car came to a stop as we reached our destination. When we got out my eyes automatically landed on the massive house that stood there in its full glory. No, not a house – it was the size of a freaking mansion! And from a closer look, it looked much bigger than from the car hundreds of metres away. It looked quite old indeed so the fact that it was inhabited by ghosts was not that shocking.

We all took out our bags and rapiers. Ellie led us inside where I was met with another spectacular sight. However, the feeling of wonder was soon replaced by the coldness that crept up on me as soon as I stepped through the threshold. I was all too familiar with the warning goosebumps on my back. Back home, I used to experience the same thing when I entered the room where my father collected his most important and darkest sources. In other words, the ones that cost the most and were the most valuable. And I was always the one to confirm their dark past. But if the energy of the dead was so obvious in sunlight, what was awaiting us when night came? I preferred not to think about that for this moment at least.

Suddenly, another person made an appearance at the top of the stairs. He was an older man, his age proved by his white hair and beard. He was dressed in a fine suit which left only one possibility. This was the famous John Fairfax. And thanks to the car ride here, I already felt like I knew his whole life from Lockwood's constant talking. But that did not mean that my opinion of him had changed. His posture was cold and professional – no sign of kindness.

"Welcome to Combe Carey Hall. You're late," he said right before his eyes landed on me. "And who's the new girl?"

If I could, I'd let the ground swallow me just to disappear from under his gaze. There was something about him that made me think of my own father. Could it be only my mind playing with me though? I hoped so.