Lord Der Arzte - Gentleman Detective - Chapter 15
When you meet someone you like, all your cute little quirks, now just make you feel weird!
Chapter 14
Lucy had grown to be very proud of what she could provide for herself and for Sam. She didn’t owe anyone anything and felt this was an extremely important position to be in when acting as an officer of the law.
Nobody held her to anything.
Not even the ‘Council of Five’. Sure, she agreed with their overall plan for the city, but if one of them broke the law - she’d deal with them just as she would deal with anyone else. No one was above the law!
But now… as she looked around her police-issued housing flat, she was acutely aware of the great divide between the haves and have-nots and what she could and could not provide. A stark reminder sat there on the windowsill - the little plant with the dark purple flower, which, if sold, could pay her wages for the next ten years.
…Who was she kidding?
The plant could pay her wages for the next century with change left over!
And it was at that point the young Lieutenant decided it had to stop.
She couldn’t develop a ‘friendship’ with Lord Der Ärzte; the playing field was just so uneven it was laughable. He didn’t have a clue and was probably so out of touch with the everyday world he had no idea just how different they were. Just how - impractical everything would be. Just how…
poor, she really was.
Lucy looked around her little kitchen and felt the loss of comfort her mismatched plates usually brought her.
***
“Are you sure this is appropriate, Banks? I mean, usually, when one goes for dinner, one dons one’s nice dinner suit with a starched collar and diamond cuffs. Will I not offend if I simply wear my black pants, day shoes, loose collar and old jumper? Am I not simply - well, almost going out into public naked?”
Banks took a deep and patient breath whilst he continued to fold his Lordship’s wardrobe, most of which was piled on his master's bed. Nothing apparently looked right, felt right or fitted the occasion until he had emptied his dressing room of all its contents.
Banks mentioned casually, “I hear the Lieutenant has had a pay rise due to the drop in crime, which is to most minds well earnt. As far as I know, she now earns $500 smackers per year.” Banks hung another pair of tailored pants.
“Yes, very well deserved, I’m sure, Banks.”
“Yes, your Lordship.”
Lord Der Ärzte sighed, “Your point, Banks?”
“The ‘old’ cashmere jumper you bought a month ago and have never worn costs $500 smackers. If my mind serves me well, you bought three of them because you couldn’t decide on the colour.”
His Lordship looked down at his jumper “Your point, Banks.”
“Your old jumper is her full year's wage. So, if you’d like to add your diamond cuffs, feel free.”
His Lordship sank to his haunches and cupped his face to his hands. “Will I make a mistake and make her feel bad, Banks? I don’t want to make a mistake. I don’t want to make another mistake and make her feel uncomfortable. I simply…” the rest was whispered to himself, “don’t understand people.”
And this is why Banks liked his Lordship so very much. Under all the bluster and money was a man who possessed a very good heart. Both his mother and his Lordship were good people, regardless of what others who didn’t know them may have thought of them.
The staff of High Hill Manour would have defended their employers to the hilt and, as one, were loyal to the bone. Not through fear of nobility; that was just publicly acceptable intimidation. No, the staff of the Der Ärzte’s were loyal because when they, as all people eventually do, fell on hard times, it was their employers who stepped in, rescued them, brushed off the shame and guilt and set their staff up in better circumstances, than any of them could have dreamed.
Banks sadly smiled to himself because he all too clearly knew what they had done for him and why the Lord and Lady did so… Banks thought to himself how first-hand knowledge of what it was like to suffer and then be miraculously released from torment could change a person’s perspective on life and created a loyalty so deep it became tattooed on your bones.
“Be yourself, your Lordship. Just be yourself. If she likes you when you are just you, then all will be right in the world. If she doesn’t like you for simply who you are, then she is not the one for you.”
“Yes, Banks, you are, as usual, correct. But if you don’t mind, Banks, I still think I might have a little throw-up before you get the carriage out and drive me there.”
“You mean your town horse, your Lordship, and ride your town horse by yourself there.”
“Throwing up now, Banks.”
***
The Police Family Barracks was a community unto itself. It was a little city within a city, where neighbours left their doors unlocked, and children wandered from flat to flat. Where neighbours looked out for each other, and there was no need for any complicated security system to ensure that no unwanted visitors broke the barricade. None of that was needed when the wives were about.
The Lieutenant had employed quite a number of wives… on a volunteer basis, naturally! Everyone of sound mind knew women couldn’t do full-time paid work and look after their household as well. This ‘volunteer work’ was directed to set up a cataloguing system of crimes, criminals, and gossip – the Lieutenant was a great believer in keeping information within the family.
Quite interestingly enough, the ‘Council of Five’ had also ensured on the insistence of the Lieutenant that the volunteer group of twelve women received a very large yearly tea kitty of $6’000 smackers for biscuits and such like. As every well-informed gentleman knew, women liked to have a cup of tea.
The Lieutenant also demanded from the Council a ‘social donation’ of another $3’500 smackers yearly for a childcare creche within the barracks. This was also run voluntarily in-house by other wives who looked after female coppers and the cataloguing mothers' children or at least made sure the kids went to the Copper’s school and were picked up and fed afterwards. Lots of biscuits and tea were consumed in this endeavour.
The Lieutenant couldn’t do what she did without the other wives. But tonight, as she watched Lord Der Ärzte dismount from his horse and put the exquisite beast into one of the stalls where all the other copper's horses were, she could have done without every set of wives’ eyes busily watching his every move.
***
After a little while, the doorbell rang loudly, which was interesting because every door in the hallway except the door Lord Der Ärzte was ringing opened wide. A number of little faces peeked out from the doorways, giggling loudly before a number of mothers yelled, “Mind ya manners, ya cheeky monkies. Close the door; otherwise, Aunty Lucy’ll have ya cleaning her cells tomorrow.”
The Lieutenant's door swung inwards, revealing a blond, green-eyed little boy.
“Did you know that in the Upside-Down Land, there’s a bear that lives high up in gum trees? And when it feels threatened, it drops down on passers-by, stunning them long enough for the bear to make its escape!”
His Lordship knew from first-hand experience that a serious knowledge-sharing showdown was about to go down, so he stepped up to the plate with his game face on. “Yes, I did. They have an extremely leathery backside, which they aim at the threat. And if that doesn’t work, the Drop Bear, scientifically known by its ‘old fancy smanchy Latin name’ Interfectorem Ursus Australis of the subcategory CRINITUS, grabs their victim by the ears and nuts them with their equally thick and hard nose right between the eyes.”
A blond eyebrow was raised above a narrowing eye. “Did you know that in the Upside-Down Land, they have a spider that is so big it can carry a baby off into the night?”
“This also I do know, but the spider commonly known as “Bloody Hell That’s A Big Fat Hairy One, Go Get the Shovel”, and scientifically known as Magnus Mutus et Pilosus is perfectly harmless and tends only to want to play catch with anything ball-shaped.”
His Lordship felt it was important to clarify his knowledge further, “And even though I admire inventiveness, I think taking the spider, cutting its fur, blow-drying it to the point it’s all fuzzy and fluffy and then putting pretty ribbons on each leg and entering it in the Upside Down Lands version of dog shows is going a tad too far.”
“I like trains!”
“Me too!”
“And turtles!”
“As do I!
“I’m three.
“That’s a very good age to be. Do you like National Geographic Magazines?
“Yes, I have fifteen, and Mama says if I’m a good boy, she will buy me a subscription for my Winter Solstice present.”
“Do you own issues 27, volume 6 or 9?”
“No, not yet. Mama says I have to wait till I’m married to look at those ones, but only if my wife says it’s okay.”
“Oh, duly noted!”
“Mama,” the serious green-eyed carbon copy of his mother lent back and bellowed, “Mama, Mr. Lord Harold is here.”
“You may just call me Harold.” Lord Der Ärzte bowed to the child.
“My name is Samuel, but you can call me Sam because I’m only called Samuel when I’ve set something on fire or brought a mud dolphin into the house.”
“Oh, mud dolphins, now they are interesting, and I do agree, interesting things are so dreadfully easy to ignite. Thank you for your familiarity.”
“We're having stew, and I hate peas.”
“Stew, yes, your mother told me, and don’t worry, you may pass your peas to me as I love them.”
A wide grin creased young Sam's face as his mother quickly walked around the corner. “Go wash your hands, kiddo.”
“Hello, Harold, please come in.” Lucy didn’t know why she was so nervous, but her stomach did a little flip-flop as his Lordship stepped into her home. Watching her son skedaddle up the corridor, Lucy quietly commented, “Sorry, Sammy’s a little bit different from most kids. He tends to fixate on his National Geographics a little too much.”
“I found him especially interesting and refreshing.” His Lordship gave his hostess a bottle of wine Banks had chosen from the cellar. “Please, Lucy, do not ever apologise for having a child with an enquiring mind.” His Lordship stepped aside and put his back to the wall so Lucy could close the front door. There were benefits, he decided, of living in a small home, especially when it created the need to be close to his hostess. “Your dress is a very pretty blue; the colour makes your eyes shine.”
Lucy stood still; no one had commented on her eyes for such a long time. Even though the dress was market-cheap, it did complement her colouring. “Thank you, Harold. Please come into the kitchen; we don’t have a dining room.”
His Lordship followed Lucy in, admiring the sway of her dress
.
“Clean hands, Mama.”
“Good to know.”
“I sang the germ song twice and made sure I scrubbed my nails.”
“Bug’s, bug’s or Don’t let the werewolf lick your face off?” His Lordship sat at the small square kitchen table as Sam took up his familiar booster seat.
“I like the werewolf one because Uncle Zorry sang it to me when I was little.” Sam blinked honestly at his Lordship, unaware he’d divulged information of his mother’s close past with the council.
“Ah, quite surprisingly for a werewolf, yes, Zorro does have a lovely singing voice.”
“Harold, I’m sorry the table’s so small.” Lucy placed the old cooking pot on the placemat. She’d not noticed how many dings it held until tonight.
“Yes, it is very small. The table at Hill Top House seats 35 and 42 at a push. You can eat at one end of the table and be totally unaware there’s another person at the other end. Mother has cut a few years off my life by seating herself quietly and speaking unannounced. I must say, I actually do prefer this sized table as I am able to see your smiles.”
“Can I have a drink of wine?”
His mother answered absentmindedly, “No, Sam, you may not.”
“Why not?”
“In Issue 5 Volume 6, National Geographic, a very clear explanation of the toxicity of alcohol on the developing brain and the long-term outcomes of being too heavy-handed with it is given. Alcohol is, in fact, young Sam, a poison.” Harold spoke directly to the wide-eyed Sam, “I will lend you the issue as long as you promise to take great care of it.”
“I promise, but why drink wine if it’s poison.”
“Sam, we’re not doing the why right now.” Lucy ladled out the stew into her three best bowls.
“When you have read Volume 6, we can have a discussion on the topic and the frequency of human stupidity during social occasions.” Harold took his bowl with a smile. “We can also discuss the great socially acceptable behaviours mystery along with why wine is an acceptable, in moderation, poison. My goodness, this does smell delicious.”
“I’m sure you’ve had much better than this.”
Harold looked up from his bowl to Lucy’s reddening cheeks. “Yes, I have. I’ve eaten at most of the world’s finest restaurants and consumed most of the delicacies of the world cooked by most of the world's gastronomic geniuses. But I’d much rather be here.”
Lucy didn’t take her eyes off her own bowl as she ladled her stew into it. “Really, Harold, I find that difficult to believe.”
“I don’t lie, Lucy.” The atmosphere grew quiet as Harold moved his spoon on the table. “Those meals were amazing and wonderful and sometimes absolutely disgusting. Especially the squid ink soup with boiled octopi’s beaks and fried cuttlefish eyeball fritters. I still have the odd nightmare-induced panic attacks if I think too much about that before bed. But quite often, as Mother is not a sociable creature, I ate them, or in the case of the ink soup, threw them up on the main dining table of ‘Oo la Aint We Fancy’ Restaurant… alone!”
Lucy looked up into Harold's wide, honest, diamond-blue eyes.
“So, I would much rather eat sand if it meant I could sit at your lovely table, in your lovely warm home, with your son, who, quite frankly, at three, is a much more interesting conversationalist than most of the people I know. Because it also means I can talk to you, and we can get to know one another.” Harold picked up his spoon and took a quiet mouthful as Sam plopped a bundle of scooped-out peas into his lordship bowl. “And I do desperately hope you will like me. Thank you, old man.”
“Pleasure. I like you, don’t worry.” Was Sam's innocent response.
The meal progressed in silence but was peppered with lots of internal thoughts, and it wasn’t until Sam showed he’d eaten all his meal and asked for sweets that the conversation actually began.
“You may have a little slice of cake, Sam. But you need to use a fork, not your fingers.” Lucy brought the cake out from the cool box and then froze as her son started the conversation with a conversation stopper.
“My Dad’s dead, you know.”
“Oh, I am sorry. No, I didn’t know that.”
Lucy’s stomach dropped as her heart began to thump.
“Yes, he died when I was in my Muma’s tummy.”
“I am very sorry, Lucy.” Empathy shone from Harold’s saddened features.
Sam continued, “I didn't know him, but everyone says I’m just like him.”
Silence reigned the small kitchen for a minute or two before a momentous decision was made.
Lucy passed slices to both eager males who watched her every move. “It was during the last day when the Council of Five fought the dragons.” Whatever she was going to do, Lucy couldn’t bring herself to look at her guest, so she sat and busied herself with chocolate crumbs on the tablecloth. “I was just pregnant with Sam, and his dad was ever so pleased. We were making plans to marry.” Lucy looked up at his Lordship.
“My condolences.”
“We weren’t married, but we intended to.”
Harold smiled at Lucy; his chocolate cake slice was eaten with the best of manners, and Lucy wondered if her disclosure had shocked him. If it had… he didn’t show any signs of it.
Lucy blinked back some moisture from her eyes and continued moving the chocolate crumbs about. “He was leading the evacuation of citizens out of the southern gate when the Red Dragon landed, cornering a woman and her child, an…” Lucy looked stoically at her clenched hand. “Sammy was a damn fine copper, and he rescued them and got everyone to safety, but the dragon saw him. Saw his uniform. Saw what he did. And… the rest I don’t like talking about.”
“A very brave man then.” Harold reached over the short distance and placed his warm, smooth hand upon her own.
“I’ve got his medals next to my bed. Uncle Zorry howls and cries when he talks about Muma and Daddy helping him and Aunty Bea.” Sam looked at his plate. “Can I have a little bit more Muma? My left leg’s still empty!”
Lucy looked with painful eyes straight into Harold’s blue oceans of tranquillity, “The Dragon hoard didn’t like the fact that I and then what remained of the force sided with Beatrix and helped her and Torren.” As she cut another small slice for Sam, she stared back a Harold. “I often wonder if Sammy was payback from that despot scheming cow.”
Harold placed his fork quietly down upon his clean plate and replied thoughtfully in a quiet and kind voice. “People who are being removed from accustomed power often have little to no boundaries in regard to what they will and won't do to fulfil their lust for revenge.” Harold smiled. “You must not let revenge have a new victim, though.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Lucy, both you and I know from our investigations that we and the council may soon be facing round two. I do not know where the thing that we discussed in the alley is, but we must prepare for an assault of some kind, either covert or not.” Harold moved his fingers gently so that he now held Lucy’s hand… reverently. “We must be prepared with clear minds and hearts!”
“Harry, if dragons are really shapeshifters, what other things can they change into, or can they only change into a dragon?”
Lucy and Harold stared at the now full-mouthed Sam.
“You, young Sam, are a very interesting person indeed! What a wonderful question, old boy; maybe it is a whom and not a what question your mother and I should be asking.”
Lucy cut another big slice of cake and put it on her son’s plate.
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