The Shimmering Wraith (Lockwood and Co. Fanfic)

Betrayal- 2.

                "I want to do some investigating," I said eventually. "After last night... I still owe Lockwood and George, particularly after abandoning them. And I'm curious... I mean, I'd had the necklace on for several hours and nothing at all had happened. Lockwood was completely surprised; you saw the look on his face."

                "He said something about having it checked," Finn said thoughtfully. "There's a special desk at Fittes if you want to have objects checked for psychic residue. If you want I could speak to them, maybe even get the report if that was where Lockwood went."

                "Thankyou," I said earnestly. "I think I'll head to the London Archives. I want to see if I can find the report on Lockwood's mother's death. Lockwood believed she was killed in a fire, but I know from what I felt and saw that she escaped."

                "You won't go and talk to him?"

                "No," I said slowly. "Not yet. I don't think I could bear it."

                A half-hour later I was seated in the Archives, searching the online death records. I didn't know Lockwood's mother's first name, but there were barely any Lockwoods listed in the London area. Of the three hundred that came up on the screen only thirty were in the right timeframe and around a third of those were women. It wasn't hard from the point to scroll down through the address list and find the woman I was looking for.

                Theresa Lockwood, born Theresa May Alcott c. 1968, married to Joseph Arnold Lockwood c. 1994. Died 15th August 2005.

                I stared at the words, letting them sink in. Spelt out like that it all looked so final and, well, cold. Callous. As if she had been stripped of all the dreams and traits that made her a person. Taking a deep breath I clicked on the link, my eyes widening at the photograph that filled the left-hand side of the screen.

                Theresa Lockwood had been stunning. The photo was in black and white, although I was positive they had more modern cameras than that when she in her twenties, and somehow the greyscale only accentuated her beauty. Dark hair tumbled down her shoulder in waves, a mink stole draped across her shoulders and the dress shimmering with white dots against the black, sleek material. She cut a stylish figure, and I was left speechless as I gazed at her.

                "What do you think you're doing?"

                I looked up, startled, to see George standing over my shoulder, peering at the photo with interest. Hurriedly I went to click out of the browser, but George shook his head.

                "No use now Lucy. I've seen it. Why didn't you come home last night? Lockwood was absolutely beside himself."

                "I- er- I couldn't," I said, my gaze darting around the room as George began cleaning his glasses on his jumper. "After what happened-"