Locklyle - The Story after The Empty Grave

Part 21: Snobby Rich People & One Bloody Limbless

Lucy's POV:

A loud banging on my bedroom door wakes me up the next morning.
'Lucy! Get your arse up! We have a client!' George yelled.
I groaned and opened my eyes before quickly closing them again. The sun's rays were peeking through the edges of the curtains and straight onto my face, blinding me.

It took me a couple of minutes to fully wake up and trudge down the stairs. When I finally did, I almost ran into George who was coming up to yell at me again. He skidded to a halt just before he could hit me, and then proceeded to look me up and down.
'You're going to talk to a client in that?' He asked, eyebrows almost disappearing from his forehead. I looked down at my body. I was still in pajamas.
'Ugh, sorry. But you did just tell me to hurry up. I'll go change.' I said as I turned to walk back up to my room. He grabbed my arm before I could move.
'No time, Luce.' And he dragged me down to the living room.

The client was a middle aged woman named Sarah Reading. She had very pale skin, straight black hair that was twinkled with grey strands, and was wearing a floral vintage dress. When I walked into the room she glanced at me and scrunched up her face in disgust. I was already embarrassed enough, but with her making a face, I became mortified.

As I sat down on the couch next to George, she turned to Lockwood,
'Are you sure you are professional enough for this job? You seem to be just teenagers. And there are no supervisors, am I correct?' She had a very high pitched voice and I couldn't stand it. And who was she to insult our company! We were the best agency in London at the moment. I glared at her and noticed George had a similar expression on his face.

'Well, Mrs Reading,' Lockwood began. 'I'm sure you have heard about some of the cases we have done, and I can assure you, we as an agency are one of the best and most professional in the field at the moment.'

Mrs Reading looked unconvinced, but must have decided she had nowhere else to go because she proceeded to tell us what she needed done. She told us that her mansion (yes, she is a rich bitch) had suddenly become riddled with ghosts. She had had feelings miasma and creeping fear and felt cold winds brush past her when she walked around at night. One of her guests children had seen a couple of apparitions. She told us that all of these feelings and sightings had only been on the right side of the home and possibly the ghosts could have been disturbed by the building of a new pool house.

She told us a lot more than that, but it was all irrelevant. Things like how she had pure gold chandeliers that glistened and swung in the cold winds she felt. She was basically bragging the whole time. I caught eyes with George and Holly multiple times and made faces at them. Once, Holly laughed and had to pretend she was coughing before excusing herself from the room.

Eventually, Mrs Reading left us with an address and strict instructions to be there at 4pm sharp tomorrow afternoon, and if we weren't, she would deduct a percentage off our pay. I'm not entirely sure if she is allowed to do that considering we are the ones that make the price, but it didn't matter. She would find a way to do it.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent at the Archives with George. Lockwood and Holly were making preparations for tomorrow and also taking on a small job further up Portland Row. I should have been going instead of Holly, but Lockwood told me to go with George. I'm not sure why, and I did complain, but I was still forced to go.

However boring I find the Archives, George does make it slightly bearable. Although, sometimes he starts babbling nonsense to himself and it makes me go insane. He had been doing just that when I suddenly realised the old newspaper article I was reading contained important information. '
'George! Come look at this.' I slid the paper across the desk towards him as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He glanced over the words before picking it up and reading it closer.
'Yes, Lucy. This is exactly the information we want.' He said before mumbling again. He stood up suddenly and walked off down an aisle, eyes still on the article. I was left sitting alone, bored as hell, until he finally came back five minutes later.