PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

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xxiv

can you not die, that would be preferable

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EVERYONE WAS PREPARING, except Alice.

She'd already packed her bag: with her spellbook and some herbs.

If she could get 'mysertiously seperated' from the others once they reached the hall, then she could quickly and efficiently fix the problems in the house.

The primary haunting was the evil monks. The Screaming Staircase was caused by the visitation of a banshee who'd killed herself on the stairs after hearing the monks' ghosts. And the Red Room was caused by the 5 witches who were tortured to death.

Easy enough to solve.

Alice crept out of her room, listening to George stress vacumming on the ground floor, Lucy frantically trying to find her rapier and Lockwood calling for George to help him with the chains. She creaked open the door to Lockwood's room, which was empty.

Not bothering to turn on the light, Alice made her way over to the safe.

The safe where the necklace containing Annabel's ring was.

She pressed her hand against the safe door, beginning to tap into her magic and softly whisper a spell.

Images flashed across her mind: Sheen Road burning to the ground, being in the dream with Annabel and Lucy, her getting choked while channelling her and Lockwood taking the ring.

'You can't be trusted', he had said.

She took the locket out of the safe and shut it again with a click.

He was right - she couldn't.

...

"Wow, there's alot of green!" George exclaimed as they decended the bridge in the train station.

"Never been outside of London before, George?" Lockwood inquired.

"I visit my gran in Sidcup," George replied.

"Sidcup is in London," Lockwood pointed out.

"Then you have your answer," George mused, "Doen't look like I've missed much."

"Hey!" Alice exclaimed in mock offense, "I love nature, don't be like that?"

If she closed her eyes and breathed in the right way, she could imagine being in Pendle Hill again.

"You used to live in the country?" Lucy queried, "Me too."

"I loved it."

"I hated it."

Both girls laughed and linked arms.

Lucy was wearing a stripy sweater and black shorts with tights under. She had her usual black boots on too (they were very effective when kicking people in the shins).

Alice wore a long, black, flowy dress - the same one with the ruffled skirt and bishop sleeves as the brown one she was wearing when she met the other three for the first time. She had on her usual pointy shoes, black gloves and her cloak, which was clasped at her collarbone with the hood down, letting her raven curls flow in the wind. And her lips were painted a deep, cherry red.

She looked like a witch, in a way.

It was exactly something that she would have worn back in Pendle - and she hoped that the ghosts of the witches at the Hall would recognise her as a witch also.

Perhaps they'd be less violent that way.

"I can't believe we're going to Sir John Fairfax's house," Lockwood breathed in awe, taking off his blazer as he walked.

Alice blushed slightly as she stared at how broad his shoulders looked in the dress shirt. She cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You've got a real hard on for him, haven't you, love?"

"If you wanna put it like that," Lockwood agreed, he glanced down at her for a moment before looking ahead, his eyes shining with something like reverence as he talked. "He's succeeded in everything he's tried. Publishing, show business. He didn't even start smelting until he was in his thirties and now look at him. And he came from nothing too."

George shook his head, "Nah, he's old money. And you have a massive house in central London."

"Well, mortgaged to the hit, George. I'm practically a serf," Lockwood countered.

Alice rolled her eyes playfully, "Wait until the days you have to survive on sleep for dinner and rainwater, then you're a serf."

George gave a low whistle, "Ooohh, more Alice-Lore, interesting."

Alice laughed.

As they made their way through a doorway, Lucy leaned down to whisper in Alice's ear. "You know, Fairfax isn't the only thing he's got a hard on for."

Alice blanched, her face going red, "Lucy!" she spluttered, gaping.

Lucy giggled, shaking her head, "Sorry, sorry, that was a bit far, wasn't it?"

Both girls laughed again.

"What boy are you gossiping about now?" Lockwood inquired, looking back at them.

"Watermelon," Alice replied, causing Lucy to laugh again.

"Whose watermelon?" George inquired.

"You don't need to know, love," Alice stated. She turned to Lucy and began to whisper, "How's Oldie?"

"We are not calling him Oldie!" Lucy whisper shouted.

"Welcome, I'm Ellie, Mr. Fairfax's assistant. This way please," came a voice. The girls looked up to see a tall woman with short curly hair and a green and white checkered jacket smile at them. She opened the boot of a sleek, red convertible.

"Is Sir John-" Lockwood began.

"He's waiting at the hall," Ellie cut across, letting them haul their bags into the boot. She adjusted one of them, but grunted in pain.

"Are you okay?" Alice questioned.

"Old war wound," Ellie revealed.

"You were an agent?" Lucy realised.

Ellie nodded, "Lots of Mr. Fairfax's employees were. He's a good man to know for when your talents fade." She closed the boot and made her way to the driver's seat. "I wouldn't say he's kind. But he understands when people need a second chance." She sat down, "And he pays well. Hop in."

All four of them grinned.

"Must we ride in this old wreck," George quipped sarcastically.

Lockwood sat in the passengers', while Lucy and George were in the back. As usual whenever they drove anywhere, Alice was forced to sit in the middle.

She leaned her head against Lucy's shoulder, considering Ellie's words. Sometimes, Alice forgot how young all agents were - how it was only the youth who were sensitives.

Alice, being a witch, would never loose those abilities. Would never loose her magic.

She was also suddenly struck with the realisation that her friends would all lose their talents too one day. They would age and grow out of agency work. They'd loose their abilties. And Alice would be left behind, younger for a considerably longer amount of time than the rest of them. She'd have to watch their abilites fade, watch them get old, watch them die.

Watch him die.

Now she understood why they were advised to never step foot outside of Pendle.