The Romantic Ordeal Of Being Stranded In Southwest England

Chapter 1

Gerard Keay sat up on Gertrude Robinson's desk, swinging his legs and feeling like shit. There was nothing specifically bad happening, just a heavy feeling pressing down on him and a general sense of wrongness in his person. But he could ignore that. He yawned as Gertrude Robinson walked back into her office. She frowned at him. "Gerard get off my desk, you're not a cat." Gerard raised his eyebrows and slipped off the surface, knocking a pen onto the ground as he did. He grunted in frustration and picked it up, placing it back where it came from. "Now is Michael Shelley in yet?"

"Dunno," Gerard refused to make eye contact with her. She'd been annoying him lately and he wanted to show it.

She shot him an irritated look. "Well will you go check?"

"No."

"Well what time does he come in?"

"Shouldn't you know that?"

"Gerard-"

"You're the boss."

"... I suppose. Anyway, I need to talk to him," Gertrude licked her lips in thought.

"Yeah?" Gerard tucked a strand of his long black hair behind his heavily pierced ear.

"I think I've finally located the position of a new Lietner." Gerard's attention was caught. "One 'The Disappearance Of'."

"Of what?"

"Blank, the book's cover is too damaged to tell."

"Alright," Gerard leaned forwards slightly and hunched his shoulders. "Soooo...?"

"I haven't got an exact location," Gertrude pushed her small round glasses up her nose. "But somewhere in the southwest. Bath, Bristol, that sort of area."

"Oh Christ that's far."

"Not too far, not compared to other places we've been," she sighed. "And we'll be taking trains. Don't worry about it, I have the money."

"Soooo..." Gerard repeated. He hung his fingers through the belt loops of his jeans. "Why you need Shelley?"

"I'd like him to come," Gertrude glanced at the clock. "Gives us a... different perspective."

"Gertrude he's oblivious. He wouldn't even believe the book, y'know, does anything."

"Exactly my point."

Gerard sighed. "Sure, I guess."

"So you'll let me know when he's in?"

"Sure," he made his way to the door.

"Gerard?"

"Yeah?"

"Pack your things."

"What?"

"You're coming too."

"... fine."

•••

"Morning Rosie!" Michael Shelley gave the receptionist a quick smile as he walked past.

"Morning," Rosie replied with a forced looking expression of happiness. This worried Michael slightly, but it was normal. Rosie was fine. She just looked like that.

"Heya Emma," he entered the offices after quite a bit of walking. The Archival Assistant looked up from the paper she was scrolling over and stared at him with slightly empty eyes.

"Hello Michael," she nodded.

Michael nodded back. He scanned the room, gathering a general idea of who was here and what was happening. He pulled a hair tie out of his pocket, shook his long curly blond hair out of his face, and tied it up in a very messy ponytail, then got to his usual sorting of statements. Or at least he tried to, before a tall, black-clad figure stepped in front of him. Gerard Keay seemed as uninterested as ever, chains and other jewellery clinking slightly as he moved.