47. Homecoming #2
“Yeah…” He steps over to me, takes the tea and places it down on the bench, then rests his hands on my hips, exactly where they belong.
“It’s… a pretty action-packed workplace.
A little dangerous at times. And it’s long hours.
” He drops a kiss on my neck, sending a shower of tingles down my spine. “Lots of late nights.”
I lean into him, whispering, “Tell me more.”
“The boss is very demanding…” Teeth on my neck that just about end me.
“Is that right, Mr Gravely?”
He pulls back, scowling at me sternly. “And insubordination is handled with swift discipline.”
Before his hand can slip any lower, here in my mother’s kitchen, because god knows I won’t be able to stop him if it does, I cry out, “I accept your terms, sir. When can I start?”
Archer laughs, then softens. “Are you serious? Would you really?”
My heart stutters, part disappointment, part embarrassment. “Wait… Are you serious?”
He slightly raises one shoulder. “I’m serious if you’re serious?”
“Are you seriously serious?”
“Seriously serious. Liam, would you please join Dead Vengeance? Business partner, chief investigator, any title you like. I have more than enough work to keep us both occupied for millennia. And I could really use your help. I guarantee you the pay will be better than the ExorSquad.”
I tilt my head, enjoying another kiss at the corner of my mouth, pretending I’m thinking it over. “Could I be… Vice Presidential Chief Executive Fuckboy?”
He smiles against my lips. “I don’t know. Do you take good dicktation?”
“I thought I proved myself during the training module…”
“Good point. You’re hired.”
It’s a while before I can escape with Archer.
I need to get back to the flat as soon as possible to make us feel like a whole family again.
Which I want. This is a gift from Archer greater than anyone could ever imagine, and I’m desperate to curl up on the sofa with the pair of them, get some soft drink and crisps, watch some bad movies.
Just feel the kind of normal I never thought I’d feel again.
That you don’t know to treasure until someone comes and rips it away from you.
Mum and Jem are obviously both really keen for that too, so it’s only under the guise of going out for supplies that I can slip away to see Gerald. Archer, since that first day, remains steadfast by my side.
I’m anxious, exhausted, really not looking forward to another scene. But this has to be done.
I push open the door on the ExorSquad office, bracing for the worst, but all I get is Ted looking equally tired as me. He raises a sardonic eyebrow, picks up the phone and mutters into it, “He’s back.”
Okay, great. So Gerald knows.
Gerald must know because before I can even make it past Ted’s desk, his door swings open. “It’s good to see you, lad. Come in!” This with a pat on my shoulder as I pass through the doorway.
I’m pretty sure I catch an anxiousness in his gaze when it lands on Archer, but he quickly hides it as he sinks down behind his desk to begin.
“I’m going to cut right to the chase with you, Liam.
Ted’s informed me of your concerns, and I’ve taken the appropriate actions required of me at this time. ”
“Appropriate actions?” Archer asks, dubiousness thick in his voice.
“With the mirror?” I attempt to clarify.
“That’s right,” Gerald says, bushy eyebrows high, giving the appearance of genuine openness.
“Believe me when I tell you, I had no idea what that thing was. A friend asked me to hold on to it for him, and had I known…” He blows out a long tobacco-scented breath, shaking his head.
“Can’t be too careful who you trust these days, can you? ”
“What appropriate actions?” asks Archer, deadpan, cutting into his explanation.
“Well, I got rid of it, didn’t I?”
“What did you do?” I pursue.
But, “Bullshit, you did,” says Archer.
Gerald’s eyes grow large. He pulls back as if Archer’s offended him, which, to be fair, I also hadn’t quite expected that tone from Archer, even if he’s right to use it.
“I did too get rid of it.” He pats hands over the large pockets of his corduroy coat.
“Search me if you like.” Then he holds out yellow-stained fingers, stretched wide.
“Search the office if you want.” Those widely stretched fingers ball up until only the pointers stretch out, and he presses them down on the desk, leaning towards Archer.
“But I won’t have you slandering me or ExorSquad. You can’t prove nothing.”
Archer laughs grimly. “That’s what you’re worried about? Not the destruction you’ve caused, but just how quickly I can run your business into the ground?”
“Now what would you want to do that for?” Gerald asks, taking up a cigarette from the packet on the table, waggling it between two fingers.
“Maybe I ain’t always made the right choices.
Maybe I do keep company with some guys I shouldn’t.
But I’ll tell you what.” He lights the cigarette, then waves the lit end at me.
“I see it as my solemn and certified duty to lift up troubled youngsters such as Liam here.”
“Troubled?” I whisper.
As if confirming, Gerald explains, “When he came to me, he was just a pauper off the street. A good for nothing, no-hope, dead-end nobody. Now look at him!” I do look down at myself, wondering how very different I am before I remember I’m wearing Archer’s much nicer clothes.
“Gave that boy five hundred pounds just in bonuses, I did. And look at him now!”
Archer seems to have a little coughing fit, but I barely notice, because that’s right. Gerald did do that. That was so nice of him.
Guilt assails me, sitting here in his office where one week ago I didn’t think I’d ever be given an opportunity like this again.
Look at me now. If he hadn’t given me that job, taken a chance on me, I wouldn’t have Archer.
I wouldn’t have Jem. Marsden would never have been caught, his reign of evil would continue, poor Simon and Fabian/Ferdinand would be the same pair of long-lost, ill-fated lovers, living the same waking nightmare for all eternity, and my poor mum…
All of this, every last bit, is because Gerald took a chance on me.
“I’m sorry,” I practically shout at him. “Gerald, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
Archer’s head snaps across to me in reprimand, but he can’t possibly see things with the same clear perspective I do.
Gerald, on the other hand, nods sympathetically. “That’s all right, lad. You weren’t to know.”
“To know what?” Archer snaps. “What did you do with the mirror?”
“Well…” He pauses for so long that I do slightly wonder if he’s trying to make up an excuse. Then I feel twice as bad when he provides the perfectly logical explanation. “I sent it to the museum.”
“The museum!” Archer cries.
“Not the British Museum?” I rasp.
“Lord, no!” Gerald spits. “What kind of a monster do you think I am?” He rolls his eyes, and I get another sharp twang of guilt.
“Bah, of course not. But I thought to myself,” he taps his cigarette ash into the overfull coffin ashtray on the desk, “if I give it over to those cops who want it, that’s exactly where it’ll end up.
And we can’t have that, can we? Cultural appropriation and all that sort of stuff. ”
“I don’t think that’s quite the same thing,” Archer tries.
But Gerald speaks on. “So I sent it over to Mexico.”
The word seems to still time, and Archer and I sit here, staring, trying to process.
“That’s right. Mexico!” says Gerald. “I thought they’d want their mirror back.”
“You sent it to a museum in Mexico?” Archer asks, far more incredulously than I think is necessary.
So I correct course with, “Aw, Gerald, that was such a beautiful thing to do.” And truly, it warms my whole heart that he thought of it. “That mirror would have been worth a fortune on the black market, I bet. That was so good of you.”
Gerald places his hand over his heart, a swirl of cigarette smoke catching the light like a halo all around him. “To me, it just felt like the right thing to do. I don’t like to take advantage of people. And I’d never do it for a quick buck.”
I could swear Archer tsks his tongue, but I’m fast to speak over him before he accidentally upsets Gerald again.
“You’ve done so much for me, Gerald. I’m so thankful for everything.
For this opportunity you’ve given me.” My heart sinks over the next words that I know I have to deliver.
That I came here to deliver. “But I have to let you know, I’ve been offered another job, and it…
The hours just suit a bit better. Less… less death. Hopefully. With hauntings and things.”
His eyes fall immediately on Archer. “Is that right? Doing what?”
“Um…” I look to Archer in the hopes he can provide a reasonable explanation.
“He’s coming to work in antiques with me,” he says.
“Oh, is he now?” Gerald’s tone has shifted to wary, his eyes back to beady. “You know, normally I’d charge a finder’s fee for that sort of thing, but you know what?” He turns to me with a grin. “I like you, Liam. I hope you’ll be very happy.”
He taps me on the shoulder, and wow. Wow. Gerald really is such a great guy. “I like you too, sir.”
He nods, then walks over to the door and pulls it open. Archer stands, but before he passes through it, he asks, “Which museum?”