'Lucy's back!'
I heard George calling to me and holly from the front door.
"Come on Lockwood, I thought you couldn't wait to see Lucy again!'
I slowly walked down the stairs.
'Hello, Luce'
She stared at me with wide eyes, and there were a few seconds when we hesitated just staring at each other. I think George and holly were fussing over something. Was it us? Most likely. But, I didn't want to ponder over that, since half a second later, Lucy looked down to her feet.
'Hello Lockwood.'
She stepped inside, then turned to face away from me.
'I should go unpack my bags. I'll come downstairs later.'
I didn't know whether it was something I did or something that had happened earlier that upset her, but she didn't come downstairs at all for the rest of the day. Sometimes I even thought I could hear her sobbing. Or was that the wind hitting the windows?
Nonetheless, that night I couldn't sleep easily. Too many thoughts were circling my mind, and I couldn't stop myself from imagining why Lucy could be upset.
In the end I convinced myself that Lucy had just met an old enemy that had provoked her on the train, and of course the thought didn't exactly make me jump for joy but it certainly did calm me. I finally fell asleep just half an hour before my alarm.
The next day, we had to go back to St. Paul's cathedral to finish off the case, since the last time we visited the apparitions didn't show up. This was the problem with ghost hunting during summer months. It made case outcomes more unpredictable which resulted in agencies like Lockwood and co being underpaid.
We entered through the old back door because the main doors were out of use, we all placed our bags in one corner then got to business. As usual, George was taking temperature measurements, holly was laying out iron chains, I was memorising the building and planing emergency retreat routes, and Lucy, what was Lucy doing? She was talking to that foul old skull of hers.
'Luce,' I said
'You should try see what you can pick up from these old objects, for instance... oh, these two old rotting chairs. You never know, it might come in han-'
'I was talking to the skull'
She glanced up at me showing no visible emotion, just a tremble in her voice and lips. She looked as if she were in emotional pain.
She continued, 'it was telling me where the sources are, Lockwood.'
She was on the verge of tears.
I smiled comfortingly.
'Luce,'
I knelt down beside her and gave her shoulder a firm squeeze.
'Don't touch me!'
She hastily got up and straightened her skirt, then she whispered something to herself - or the skull, for that matter - and walked off to help George.
The green face in the jar was pulling horrendous faces at me, which I didn't consider unsettling at all
