𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐠𝐞┃ Anthony Lockwood┃1┃

Chapter Forty Two - The Bloomsbury Antiques Emporium

Lockwood and Nola had left Flo Bones back at the canal. For now, anyway. Despite her being rather useful when it came to information on Jack Carver, Nola felt slightly relieved. She was sure that she would've been thrown yet another insult if the pair had been forced to interact with each other any longer.

"Shouldn't we get a cab home?" Nola asked Lockwood as he strode down one of London's darkened streets. A clock chimed a singular time in the distance, indicating that it was 1am, followed by the slightly ominous sound of a dog howling. A black to navy gradient was the backdrop for a full moon; the night sky so clear, you could almost see every crater. The moon, a glowing yellowy white, loomed large, surrounded by an ethereal glow. Millions of stars were sprinkled behind it, a few large ones but mostly a multitude of little white pin pricks. As much as the setting was rather picturesque, the night was bitterly cold and blowing quite the gale.

"It's such a lovely evening for a stroll." Lockwood grinned, bouncing along the pavement with his usual gusto.

Nola scoffed. "Said no one. Ever."

Lockwood continued to walk with haste, his coat billowing behind him.

Nola shuffled her feet along quickly, trying her best to keep up with his pace. "So... how did you meet Flo?" She asked curiously.

"I can't even remember. It was ages ago." He said simply, giving a small shrug of his narrow shoulders.

"Has she always been like that? I'll say... abrupt, in fear of being rude." Nola flashed a smile at her partner.

Lockwood chuckled. "Yeah, bless her. She won't take shit from anybody. There's one thing you two have a common. See, I'll make friends out of you yet!"

Nola rolled her eyes at his comment. She couldn't see herself befriending Flo Bones for as long as she lived. "She cares about you, though, doesn't she?" She raised an eyebrow, watching over Lockwood. His expression remained determined; he was on a mission. His hallow bone structure was tight and tense, and his eyes were narrowed into the distance. It wasn't exactly clear what he was glaring at so intensely, but the bright, dark eyes were most certainly narrowed.

"Yeah, but she's a worrier. That's all." Lockwood hummed.

Nola scuffed her boots across the tarmac briefly as she skipped to catch up with Lockwood. "Jeez, will you slow down a little?" She frowned. "So, what about Kipps? Why doesn't he favour you? Piss him off in a past life?"

"I suppose you could say that. We both trained at the same place when we were younger, with a bloke called Sykes, and we were once battling in a rapier competition. He was considerably older than me, but I still won, and stabbed him in the bottom in the process." A proud grin pulled at Lockwood's lips.

Nola expelled a hearty giggle. "Oh, you must be joking! Kipps has been so bitter for all these years because of a bloody rapier match? That's rich."

The pair chuckled along together, before continuing to walk in a comfortable silence. They walked close together, their feet falling into an alignment and their arms brushing up against one another's every now and then.

"Anyway." Lockwood spoke up. "We don't know how long it will take for Jack Carver to get that message. We need to move fast."

"Well, I did say we should get a cab. After all, wheels are much faster than feet." Nola frowned, looking up at Lockwood beside her.

Lockwood clicked his tongue against his teeth. "We're not headed back home yet, though."

"But it's 1 o'clock in the morning. You know full well that George will be waiting up for us. He'll be worried sick." Nola's voice shook slightly. She knew what George was like. He would start stress cleaning, and that would involve turning the whole house upside down if he had to. George had a nasty little habit of tidying away her things when she doesn't expect it, thus leading to her never being able to find said things again.