The Night Watchman

A New Friendship

You ask, I deliver. If you have anymore burning desires for me to move this ongoing story in the direction of, feel free to drop a comment with your requests. Several of you asked for Kippins, so here it is!

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For the remainder of the day, George, Kipps and Lockwood had kept Lucy company. Not once was she left alone - and though you might think that after all she had been through she would have been grateful for some peace, it was quite the opposite. For the shadows of that dark cell still lurked at the forefront of Lucy's memories, and she did not wish to be reminded of the slippery cold that had clung to her bones. Nor did she wish to remember the the interminable silence, and the way the time passed so slowly it was as if the darkness had been sucking her life force out of her. No, she was very much glad of the company, which kept the memories at bay and helped her feel slightly more at ease. 

This is why she could have cried with relief when it had reached late into the evening and it was time for visitors to go, but Lockwood demanded that he stay. Whenever George, or Kipps, or a member of staff, suggested that he go home to get some proper rest he simply repeated 'I'm not leaving her again' as if he was too tired to create any further argument to support his cause. And really, given the situation, that was a perfectly valid reason for him to stay. So with a little reluctance, but mostly understanding, George and Kipps bid their goodbyes and left the hospital, leaving Lockwood and Lucy behind. As they walked out of the hospital doors the chemical air that stank of disinfectant was replaced by a fresh breeze. Kipps took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, savouring the cool air. George's stomach rumbled loudly in agreement.

'Hungry?' Kipps asked with a half-smile.

'I would have said no, but apparently my stomach begs to differ.' George replied whilst looking down at his stomach as if he expected to see a face peering back at him.

'Well, I'm in urgent need of a coffee, so why don't we go and find a cafe somewhere?' Kipps suggested. 'I don't feel ready to go home yet.' He added.

But George didn't hear the second sentence, nor did he need to, for he was already in total agreement with the idea as soon as he heard the word 'cafe'. However, he also failed to notice the underlying reason why Kipps was suddenly so reluctant to leave company. Kipps was only managing to control his sense of loss over Quill through a constant stream of distractions, and the minute those distractions wavered, he feared that he would become overwhelmed.

Kipps needn't have worried though, because George proved to be an excellent distraction. Kipps listened to George's endless twittering with admiration at his fluency and relief at his continuation. He was content to listen, until they walked past a cafe on a street corner that looked rather nice.

'What about here?' Kipps interrupted.

George peered through the clear glass window of the cafe and squinted through his glasses.

'Yes, this will do brilliantly. I think that's a chocolate fudge cake on the counter, if I'm not mistaken.'

Indeed, George was correct - when it came to cake, he was never mistaken. No amount of short-sighted impairment could hinder his ability to pin-point the exact location, and exact type, of cake, as if he was an eagle with eyes trained to do so by his very nature. The cafe was not large, but cosy and quiet, with only a few people sitting at various tables. There was plenty of choice. Kipps headed towards a small square table in the corner of the cafe with two chairs sitting opposite each other, and motioned for George to sit down. 

'What can I get you?' He asked. 'Chocolate cake, I'm guessing?' 

'My my, Kipps, what an intelligent young man you are.' George mocked in a friendly manner. 'You have guessed correctly first time!'

Kipps went off to order, while George busied himself by cleaning his glasses. Granted, it was the first time he had cleaned his glasses in weeks, and he had to make do with the corner of his sweat-smelling t-shirt, but the result was still remarkable. It did the job in removing the worst of the grubby fingerprints from the lenses, and when he put the glasses back on again he could see with astonishing clarity. That was why, when Kipps returned carrying two plates of chocolate fudge cake and two coffees, George was able to admire how blue Kipps' eyes were. With subtlety, of course - with great subtlety.

'Err.. are you okay, George?' Kipps asked.

'Oh, yes, yes, of course.' George blinked suddenly and regained control. 'Sorry, I was just thinking.'

Kipps cleared his throat, but didn't reply. The chocolate cake looked too good to sit there on its own any longer. As Kipps began to dig in, George began to admire him even more. He had finally found someone who could get a full mouthful of chocolate cake before George had even lifted up his fork. And that in itself was impressive. The chocolate cake was all it was expected to be, and more. When Kipps commented on how perfectly squidgy and rich it was, George wholeheartedly agreed. They sat in almost silence, deep in their own thoughts while they enjoyed the cake. It was only once they had finished that George realised how deflated Kipps' face suddenly looked.

'What's wrong?' George said, frowning slightly.

'I just... don't know what to do.' Kipps replied with a sigh. 'I can't even bring myself to go back to Quintin's flat to get my stuff - even though I know I won't have to see him as he's in jail now, there are too many memories and the visit would be too painful. But I don't even have anywhere to stay.'

Almost instinctively, George leant forwards and put his hand on Kipps' shoulder. 'Here, you don't need to worry about that. Why don't you come and stay at our place? You can sleep in Lucy's room for now, because I don't think she'll be ready to return home for at least a few days.'

Kipps' face lit up immediately. 'Oh, really? That's very generous of you. Are you sure?'

'Yes, of course.' George said reassuringly. 'I'm sure Lucy won't mind. Especially as you're friends anyway. And it'll be fun having you around to keep us company. Otherwise it would be incredibly quiet, what with Lockwood staying at the hospital too.'

As a result, once they had finished their coffees and left the cafe, the pair did not part ways and bid farewell, but walked together to Portland Row. The sun dropped low in the sky and the chill of dusk began to fill the air, so that they had to walk close together to lean into each other's warmth as neither had the protection of a thick coat with them. They were both greatly relieved to enter the warm shelter of the house, but despite the biting cold the walk home had been less unpleasant than it might have been in different circumstances.