Fic: Of Stolen Moments and Directives
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monaboyd_monthTitle: Of Stolen Moments and Directives
Fandom: Taggart, Hetty Wainthropp Investigates
Pairing: Jamie Holmes/Geoffrey Shawcross
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I am unaffiliated with either of the shows named above, and am making no money from this representation of these fictional characters.
Summary: The beginning of their association, and how it continued. It has not yet ended.
Of Stolen Moments and Directives
It was, Jamie remembered, very important that he not get in the way of the visitors from England. They weren’t ordinary visitors, they were detectives. Jamie had seen detectives before, and he was very interested in them, but he mustn’t get in their way. It was very important, he remembered. No one was to disturb them, no matter how many questions one had about how they figured things out and why they kept on doing it even when the people they were looking for might kill them. Jamie very much wanted to know the answers to these questions. But he was not to get in the way of the visitors from England. It was very important.
He sat at his desk and pulled his notebook from the drawer on the front, flipping the leaves to the first blank page. He was not to get in the way of the visitors from England, but he could write down everything he wanted to ask them. Then maybe if they got in his way, he could ask them. He paused, ordering his thoughts in his head, and began.
A clattering from outside was unusual enough to draw his attention. Heading to the window, he wondered if if was the detectives, or maybe whoever they were chasing. He thought of another question for the list:
He didn’t think he would like to chase dangerous people. But then, what if you found them and they ran away? Then you couldn’t tell the police where they were, and that wouldn’t be doing your job. He would have to chase people, then. He wasn’t very fast. By this time, he had reached the window and looked out.
“Mrs. Wainthropp, look at this!”
There was someone at the door below, crouched next to the step and pointing at the ground. He was the one who had called to Mrs. Wainthropp, in an English accent. An old woman walked up to him and bent over, looking at whatever her friend was pointing out. After a second she nodded and they both stood up and walked into the building.
Jamie liked the way the boy looked. Man? Boy, he decided. He had seen from his height next to the door that the boy was only a few centimetres taller than Jamie himself, which wasn’t very tall according to Mum. So if the boy wasn’t his age, he was short. That was all right too. Anyway, he liked the way he looked. His eyebrows were thick and straight and they tapered to points at the outer edges, which was something Jamie had never seen before, and his nose was curious – somehow broad and round at the same time. He hadn’t been able to see much from his vantage point, but Jamie hoped he’d see the boy again so he could look more closely. Something about him was almost as interesting as the fact that he was a detective.
Were they going to come upstairs? Jamie rushed to the door of his room, hoping he could find a way to watch these people, who were clearly the detectives from England, without getting in their way. He wasn’t going to keep from talking to them if they wanted to ask him questions about a crime, because it was important not to impede the process of justice, but he wasn’t going to disobey his Mum either. Unfortunately, after a few minutes it seemed the detectives weren’t going to come upstairs. Jamie left his door open just in case, but went back to his desk. He still had questions, if the detectives decided they wanted to talk to him.
The next morning, Jamie was clearing up after breakfast when he ran into the boy. Literally – they collided when Jamie tried to remove the cereal bowls just as the boy tried to take one for himself. Jamie leapt back, doing his counting to keep from reacting in ways that made Mum shake her head at him, and realised suddenly that the boy hurriedly straightening the tower of bowls was the same one he’d seen from above the afternoon before. He wished he had his notebook with him, so he could ask all the questions he’d come up with. Before he could leave to get it, though, the boy turned to face him.
“Hi!” He smiled, holding out a hand.
“Hello, how are you? I’m fine, thanks very much.” Jamie smiled back, but didn’t take the hand.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Jamie couldn’t read the boy’s expression, which was hardly a new experience. “What’s your name?”
“Jamie Holmes. What’s yours?”
Luckily there didn’t seem to be a problem, as the boy continued with his apparent plans of obtaining cereal for himself while he answered. “Geoffrey Shawcross.” As he reached for a spoon, he laid a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.
Jamie jerked away. “Please don’t touch me, thank you.” He glanced to the side, hoping he hadn’t offended Geoffrey Shawcross with his automatic response. People were often offended, but he didn’t usually care. “It’s nothing personal, y’see. I don’t like anyone touching me. How’s your case going?”
Geoffrey Shawcross frowned. “How’d you know we’re on a case?”
“It’s very important that I not disturb the visitors from England. How’s your case going?” He hoped the other boy understood. It was easier to repeat lines he’d learned than to explain in his own words, because sometimes he had too many words to bring them out. Luckily, Geoffrey Shawcross nodded.
“That’d be us, I guess.” He held up a hand before Jamie could repeat himself again. “This case is weird, and it’s not going so well. D’you mind if I eat while we talk?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
And that was the beginning.
Jamie was used to being exhausted around people. Everyone did so much and said so much and expected so much of him, and even when it had been explained to him that his way of ending conversations with people was rude he continued because they were being rude first, taking him out of his private thoughts just to make him do things they refused to explain. Jamie didn’t dislike people, as a whole, because he hadn’t met every person and that would be silly, but he hated the way they made him so tired. He was usually glad to keep away from them.
With Geoffrey Shawcross it was different.
Geoffrey Shawcross, who told Jamie just to call him Geoffrey, spoke with a careful earnestness. It was weird, being able to tell people’s emotions from their voices, and Jamie had never gotten the knack, but just from his words Jamie could tell that Geoffrey felt about detective work the way his Mum felt about running a boarding house. It was tiring, but he loved it.
“I’ve never been to Scotland before, though,” he told Jamie as they walked aimlessly down the road. “It’s too quiet, but I guess you get used to that.”
Jamie, who had never thought Scotland was quiet and couldn’t imagine the sort of noise that might exist for someone to think his home was peaceful, just shook his head. Being with Geoffrey was strange, but Jamie liked it. With him, Jamie didn’t even mind the silences. Once he’d asked Geoffrey every question on his list, they sat together on a pier. Just sat. Like there was nothing more important that needed doing. Jamie liked the feeling. It was completely new.
“You know,” Geoffrey told him, “I’m really glad I came along on this case. Mrs. Wainthropp tried to convince me I didn’t have to, but I’m glad I did. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
“Is that good or bad?”
Geoffrey laughed. “It’s good. You make more sense than most people I know. I like how you think.”
Jamie smiled, darting his eyes away from where they’d been fixed on Geoffrey’s hands. “You’re the only person who’s ever said that.”
“Really?” Geoffrey frowned as Jamie nodded. “Well, I shouldn’t be.”
Jamie wished he could tell Geoffrey how he felt about him, but he wasn’t sure yet. He liked talking with him, which was unusual enough, but he also liked being quiet with him, walking with him, eating meals with him, and waiting anxiously for him to return from the day’s sleuthing with Mrs. Wainthropp. He liked the way Geoffrey’s forehead furrowed when he was thinking and the way his eyes widened when he told Jamie about breakthroughs and the way he smiled, secret and quiet, when Jamie told him how amazing he thought it all was. He wasn’t a quiet person, Geoffrey, but he could be. Around Jamie. Jamie liked that, because it meant everything was less tiring and he could function without the constant buzz of whatamidoingwrong, whatishetalkingabout cluttering up his thought stream. Jamie very much liked that metaphor: thought stream. His brain was like a river that collected debris from its side branches, and if the debris got too plentiful the water had a hard time moving forward. It was an accurate description, and one he didn’t have to worry about when he was with Geoffrey.
He just wished he knew how to get that feeling across.
And then one day Geoffrey told him that he and Mrs. Wainthropp were going back to England, and Jamie’s brain river filled up so quickly he barely had time to step back before he was hunched on the ground.
“You can’t leave, you can’t leave, you can’t leave,” but it made no difference, Geoffrey was leaving and Jamie barely even flinched as he felt his new friend’s arms tighten around him. “Don’t leave, don’t leave me. You can’t go, I need you here, I need you, I need you.”
“Hey, hey, Jamie, shh, it’s OK, it’s not forever, I’ll be back.” Geoffrey was still holding him, and Jamie began to calm. “Come on, how could I stay away from you?”
“Really?” Jamie looked up, very nearly making eye contact as he sagged against Geoffrey’s grip. “You’ll come back, you promise?” His voice faded. “You promise?”
“I promise. ’Course I do, I’ll come back. We just need to go back to see if this case really is connected to another one Mrs. Wainthropp thinks might be related, and then we’ll come back up here to finish it.” Geoffrey sighed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you differently. But yes, I’ll be back.”
Jamie nodded and Geoffrey withdrew his arms, slowly standing up. Jamie closed his eyes. Geoffrey was coming back. He was leaving, but then he was coming back. He stood up as well.
“Am I right in thinking that you don’t like phones?”
Jamie shook his head frantically. “I hate them.”
“I’ll write you, then. I’ll keep you posted – I mean, I’ll give you updates, and tell you when we’re on our way back here.”
“I’d like that.” Jamie’s chest felt hot, and he smiled. “I would like that a lot, Geoffrey Shawcross.”
And then Geoffrey and Mrs. Wainthropp were gone, for three weeks. They weren’t good weeks, but every other day he got a letter from Geoffrey telling him what they were doing and how their cases were progressing and yes, it seemed likely that they were connected, so they’d be doing as much work as they could on getting that one solved before coming back up to finish the other. Jamie didn’t know how they could afford to be coming back and forth between countries, but he had learned a long time ago never to talk about money, because he couldn’t tell what things about it were rude. So he waited for them to come back, hoping that Geoffrey hadn’t been driven away by his meltdown.
They didn’t usually happen that quickly. There were usually warning signs, for him and for other people. But the thought of Geoffrey leaving overwhelmed him almost instantly, and his reaction to that would have been bad enough, he thought, without all the associated thoughts that ran out from it about weirdness and loneliness and his first friend in a long, long time going away from him. He hoped he hadn’t ensured that Geoffrey never came back.
But the letters kept coming, and one day Geoffrey wrote to tell him that they were coming back. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, he said, until the plans were all arranged, but they would be back up in a few days. Jamie was barely able to sit still all day. Eventually, Mum persuaded him to write up a list of things he wanted to say to Geoffrey when he saw him again. It was mostly as a bargain to get him out of her way, but it worked. He sat down with his notebook and pencil, soon deep in thought.
“Oh, Jamie,” his Mum said, coming up behind him. “He can’t stay forever, he’s his own home to get back to!”
He turned around in his chair, scowling. “He hasn’t, though. He’s a lodger. He could lodge here. He could be a detective here!”
“Maybe.” Mum laid a hand on the back of his chair and let out a long breath. “I know you like him a lot.”
“I feel normal when I’m with him, Mum. He doesn’t think I’m weird and he likes what I like and he makes me happy.”
She smiled. “I’m glad. You deserve that, more than anyone I know. Tell you what,” she continued as she turned back towards the door, “ask him. I’ll talk to Mrs. Wainthropp when she gets here, OK?”
“About what?”
“Maybe she could expand her operation.”
Jamie frowned and turned back to his desk as Mum left. She knew he hated it when she didn’t explain what she was talking about, but today he didn’t care as much as he usually did. Geoffrey was coming back, as soon as tomorrow, and he would ask him to stay. He knew it probably wouldn’t work, because it was expensive to move places and Geoffrey didn’t know anyone else in the area, but he would ask. And at least this time he knew they were only coming up for a week, so if Geoffrey did go back it wouldn’t be as unexpected. He nodded to himself, satisfied that he had worked it out.
The day Geoffrey and Mrs. Wainthropp were to return, Jamie couldn’t seem to sit still. He’d try to do something to help out, but all too soon would be walking to and from a corner thinking about everything he was going to say to Geoffrey when he came in. He liked corners. They focused his thoughts more than parallel lines did, and he needed his thoughts to be focused. He couldn’t have another meltdown just when Geoffrey came back, that wouldn’t be good at all!
In the end, his Mum set him to making sure there were enough pillows in each room. It took him a while, as he kept rushing to the stairs whenever the front door opened, but he had nearly finished when he heard Geoffrey’s voice through a window.
“I’ll be honest, I’m-”
But Jamie didn’t hear the rest, instead rushing downstairs and out the front door.
“Geoffrey!”
“Jamie!”
The two ran up to each other, grinning madly. Jamie, for all the items on his list, couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Finally Geoffrey cleared his throat.
“Er… can I hug you?”
Jamie didn’t touch people. He didn’t like the way it felt, and it was intrusive, and boarders were forever touching his shoulder to get his attention and he hated it. But he remembered Geoffrey’s arms around him during his meltdown, and that hadn’t been so bad. It had actually been quite nice. So he nodded and spread his arms wide, and Geoffrey rushed forward and curled his arms around Jamie and it was very strange, Jamie had to fight the urge to freeze, but the pressure was deep enough that it was calming rather than horrible and he allowed himself to relax, to circle his own arms around Geoffrey’s back and squeeze.
“I’m glad you’re back, Geoffrey Shawcross.” His voice came out mumbled from where his face was pressed against Geoffrey’s shoulder, but he seemed to have made himself understood because Geoffrey laughed.
“I’m glad I’m back too, Jamie Holmes.”
After that it was easy. With the information from their case in Darwen, Mrs. Wainthropp and Geoffrey were able to solve their case quickly, leaving most of a week for a holiday. Jamie was delighted to have Geoffrey back, and wasted no time in telling him the things from his list. Well, most of them. The questions about moving he carefully saved for later, just in case.
Oh the fourth night, however, Geoffrey asked him directly. “You’ve been holding something back, haven’t you? Is there something wrong that I can help with?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, thank you for asking.” Jamie paused. “That is, I have a question, and Mum says maybe I shouldn’t ask it, so I’m not asking it. But that’d be what I’m holding back.”
“Go on, ask me. Or you could give me hints and I could try I guess?”
“No.” Jamie grinned. “I’m no good at those. My question is do you think you’d like to move up here.”
Geoffrey blinked. A slow smile spread across his face. “You told your Mum about this, right?”
“Of course I did.”
“Well, that would explain what Mrs. Wainthropp was going on about!” Geoffrey laughed. “She asked me if I wanted to be the Scottish branch of our operation. Those were her actual words, which was odd.”
“Oh, that’s what Mum meant!” Not that this answered Jamie’s question. “So… I told Mum, and she told Mrs. Wainthropp, and she told you. You’ve had longer to think about it than I thought, then.” He flicked his eyes up to Geoffrey’s face. “So what do you think?”
“Honestly?” Geoffrey took a deep breath. “I don’t know. It’s a big step, moving somewhere. But I do like it here. I mean, you’re here, how bad can it be, right?”
“Right.” Jamie was relieved, but noted that he still had not received a yes or no answer. “D’you want to think about it more? You’ve a few more days yet before we go back to letters.”
“I… yeah. You know what, I’ll talk to Mrs. Wainthropp and tell you tomorrow.”
“Good! That’s very good. D’you want to help me stay out of Mum’s way while she’s cooking?”
“Sure, that sounds like fun.” With a grunt, Geoffrey pushed himself up from the lawn where they’d been sitting and they headed back to the house together.
The next morning, after breakfast but before cleaning up the kitchen, Jamie and his Mum and Geoffrey and Mrs. Wainthropp gathered in the dining room to discuss Geoffrey’s options. Jamie thought it was awkward to have all of them there like that, but Geoffrey didn’t say anything. Finally, Mrs. Wainthropp brought up the topic.
“Now, I’m not as young as I used to be, and it’d be nice to know this detective business of mine was continuing on elsewhere. Geoffrey would need to get a P.I. licence and a place to stay, of course.”
“Well,” Jamie’s Mum interjected, “he could stay here, of course, but I’m afraid we’re not really meant for long-term housing. It’d be best for everyone if that were a temporary solution.”
“Seriously?” The three other turned to look at Geoffrey, who had nearly shouted. “You’re just talking about this like I’ve already decided to move!”
Mrs. Wainthropp’s brow furrowed. “Haven’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but you’re making it sound like that’s secondary!”
“You know, you’re right.” She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Geoffrey. You’re not as young as you used to be either. This is your decision.”
“Did I hear you right, though?” Jamie burst out. “You’re moving here?”
Geoffrey flicked his eyes over to Jamie and gave him a quick, small smile. “I am, yeah.”
With no preamble Jamie jumped up from his bench and ran to Geoffrey’s side of the table. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before leaning down and wrapping his arms around Geoffrey. The hug was awkward, being sideways, but Geoffrey did his best to return it.
After a few seconds of amused glances at each other, Mrs. Wainthropp decided to extend her time in Scotland to help Geoffrey set things up and Jamie’s Mum agreed to let them their same rooms for at least an extra week.
“The season’s heating up, Jamie,” she told her son, which was something she said a lot that he had learned meant A lot more people will be coming soon, “but since you all want this so much I can move some other people.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m so happy for you, Jamie.”
Jamie wasn’t sure why she was happy for him, but he knew why he was happy for himself.
Fandom: Taggart, Hetty Wainthropp Investigates
Pairing: Jamie Holmes/Geoffrey Shawcross
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I am unaffiliated with either of the shows named above, and am making no money from this representation of these fictional characters.
Summary: The beginning of their association, and how it continued. It has not yet ended.
It was, Jamie remembered, very important that he not get in the way of the visitors from England. They weren’t ordinary visitors, they were detectives. Jamie had seen detectives before, and he was very interested in them, but he mustn’t get in their way. It was very important, he remembered. No one was to disturb them, no matter how many questions one had about how they figured things out and why they kept on doing it even when the people they were looking for might kill them. Jamie very much wanted to know the answers to these questions. But he was not to get in the way of the visitors from England. It was very important.
He sat at his desk and pulled his notebook from the drawer on the front, flipping the leaves to the first blank page. He was not to get in the way of the visitors from England, but he could write down everything he wanted to ask them. Then maybe if they got in his way, he could ask them. He paused, ordering his thoughts in his head, and began.
- 1. When you look at a clue, how do you know what it means?
2. How do you know if it is really a clue, and not a fake clue planted to confuse you?
3. Do you ever talk to dangerous people?
A clattering from outside was unusual enough to draw his attention. Heading to the window, he wondered if if was the detectives, or maybe whoever they were chasing. He thought of another question for the list:
- 4. Do you chase people, or do you just tell the police where to find them?
He didn’t think he would like to chase dangerous people. But then, what if you found them and they ran away? Then you couldn’t tell the police where they were, and that wouldn’t be doing your job. He would have to chase people, then. He wasn’t very fast. By this time, he had reached the window and looked out.
“Mrs. Wainthropp, look at this!”
There was someone at the door below, crouched next to the step and pointing at the ground. He was the one who had called to Mrs. Wainthropp, in an English accent. An old woman walked up to him and bent over, looking at whatever her friend was pointing out. After a second she nodded and they both stood up and walked into the building.
Jamie liked the way the boy looked. Man? Boy, he decided. He had seen from his height next to the door that the boy was only a few centimetres taller than Jamie himself, which wasn’t very tall according to Mum. So if the boy wasn’t his age, he was short. That was all right too. Anyway, he liked the way he looked. His eyebrows were thick and straight and they tapered to points at the outer edges, which was something Jamie had never seen before, and his nose was curious – somehow broad and round at the same time. He hadn’t been able to see much from his vantage point, but Jamie hoped he’d see the boy again so he could look more closely. Something about him was almost as interesting as the fact that he was a detective.
Were they going to come upstairs? Jamie rushed to the door of his room, hoping he could find a way to watch these people, who were clearly the detectives from England, without getting in their way. He wasn’t going to keep from talking to them if they wanted to ask him questions about a crime, because it was important not to impede the process of justice, but he wasn’t going to disobey his Mum either. Unfortunately, after a few minutes it seemed the detectives weren’t going to come upstairs. Jamie left his door open just in case, but went back to his desk. He still had questions, if the detectives decided they wanted to talk to him.
The next morning, Jamie was clearing up after breakfast when he ran into the boy. Literally – they collided when Jamie tried to remove the cereal bowls just as the boy tried to take one for himself. Jamie leapt back, doing his counting to keep from reacting in ways that made Mum shake her head at him, and realised suddenly that the boy hurriedly straightening the tower of bowls was the same one he’d seen from above the afternoon before. He wished he had his notebook with him, so he could ask all the questions he’d come up with. Before he could leave to get it, though, the boy turned to face him.
“Hi!” He smiled, holding out a hand.
“Hello, how are you? I’m fine, thanks very much.” Jamie smiled back, but didn’t take the hand.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Jamie couldn’t read the boy’s expression, which was hardly a new experience. “What’s your name?”
“Jamie Holmes. What’s yours?”
Luckily there didn’t seem to be a problem, as the boy continued with his apparent plans of obtaining cereal for himself while he answered. “Geoffrey Shawcross.” As he reached for a spoon, he laid a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.
Jamie jerked away. “Please don’t touch me, thank you.” He glanced to the side, hoping he hadn’t offended Geoffrey Shawcross with his automatic response. People were often offended, but he didn’t usually care. “It’s nothing personal, y’see. I don’t like anyone touching me. How’s your case going?”
Geoffrey Shawcross frowned. “How’d you know we’re on a case?”
“It’s very important that I not disturb the visitors from England. How’s your case going?” He hoped the other boy understood. It was easier to repeat lines he’d learned than to explain in his own words, because sometimes he had too many words to bring them out. Luckily, Geoffrey Shawcross nodded.
“That’d be us, I guess.” He held up a hand before Jamie could repeat himself again. “This case is weird, and it’s not going so well. D’you mind if I eat while we talk?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
And that was the beginning.
Jamie was used to being exhausted around people. Everyone did so much and said so much and expected so much of him, and even when it had been explained to him that his way of ending conversations with people was rude he continued because they were being rude first, taking him out of his private thoughts just to make him do things they refused to explain. Jamie didn’t dislike people, as a whole, because he hadn’t met every person and that would be silly, but he hated the way they made him so tired. He was usually glad to keep away from them.
With Geoffrey Shawcross it was different.
Geoffrey Shawcross, who told Jamie just to call him Geoffrey, spoke with a careful earnestness. It was weird, being able to tell people’s emotions from their voices, and Jamie had never gotten the knack, but just from his words Jamie could tell that Geoffrey felt about detective work the way his Mum felt about running a boarding house. It was tiring, but he loved it.
“I’ve never been to Scotland before, though,” he told Jamie as they walked aimlessly down the road. “It’s too quiet, but I guess you get used to that.”
Jamie, who had never thought Scotland was quiet and couldn’t imagine the sort of noise that might exist for someone to think his home was peaceful, just shook his head. Being with Geoffrey was strange, but Jamie liked it. With him, Jamie didn’t even mind the silences. Once he’d asked Geoffrey every question on his list, they sat together on a pier. Just sat. Like there was nothing more important that needed doing. Jamie liked the feeling. It was completely new.
“You know,” Geoffrey told him, “I’m really glad I came along on this case. Mrs. Wainthropp tried to convince me I didn’t have to, but I’m glad I did. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
“Is that good or bad?”
Geoffrey laughed. “It’s good. You make more sense than most people I know. I like how you think.”
Jamie smiled, darting his eyes away from where they’d been fixed on Geoffrey’s hands. “You’re the only person who’s ever said that.”
“Really?” Geoffrey frowned as Jamie nodded. “Well, I shouldn’t be.”
Jamie wished he could tell Geoffrey how he felt about him, but he wasn’t sure yet. He liked talking with him, which was unusual enough, but he also liked being quiet with him, walking with him, eating meals with him, and waiting anxiously for him to return from the day’s sleuthing with Mrs. Wainthropp. He liked the way Geoffrey’s forehead furrowed when he was thinking and the way his eyes widened when he told Jamie about breakthroughs and the way he smiled, secret and quiet, when Jamie told him how amazing he thought it all was. He wasn’t a quiet person, Geoffrey, but he could be. Around Jamie. Jamie liked that, because it meant everything was less tiring and he could function without the constant buzz of whatamidoingwrong, whatishetalkingabout cluttering up his thought stream. Jamie very much liked that metaphor: thought stream. His brain was like a river that collected debris from its side branches, and if the debris got too plentiful the water had a hard time moving forward. It was an accurate description, and one he didn’t have to worry about when he was with Geoffrey.
He just wished he knew how to get that feeling across.
And then one day Geoffrey told him that he and Mrs. Wainthropp were going back to England, and Jamie’s brain river filled up so quickly he barely had time to step back before he was hunched on the ground.
“You can’t leave, you can’t leave, you can’t leave,” but it made no difference, Geoffrey was leaving and Jamie barely even flinched as he felt his new friend’s arms tighten around him. “Don’t leave, don’t leave me. You can’t go, I need you here, I need you, I need you.”
“Hey, hey, Jamie, shh, it’s OK, it’s not forever, I’ll be back.” Geoffrey was still holding him, and Jamie began to calm. “Come on, how could I stay away from you?”
“Really?” Jamie looked up, very nearly making eye contact as he sagged against Geoffrey’s grip. “You’ll come back, you promise?” His voice faded. “You promise?”
“I promise. ’Course I do, I’ll come back. We just need to go back to see if this case really is connected to another one Mrs. Wainthropp thinks might be related, and then we’ll come back up here to finish it.” Geoffrey sighed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you differently. But yes, I’ll be back.”
Jamie nodded and Geoffrey withdrew his arms, slowly standing up. Jamie closed his eyes. Geoffrey was coming back. He was leaving, but then he was coming back. He stood up as well.
“Am I right in thinking that you don’t like phones?”
Jamie shook his head frantically. “I hate them.”
“I’ll write you, then. I’ll keep you posted – I mean, I’ll give you updates, and tell you when we’re on our way back here.”
“I’d like that.” Jamie’s chest felt hot, and he smiled. “I would like that a lot, Geoffrey Shawcross.”
And then Geoffrey and Mrs. Wainthropp were gone, for three weeks. They weren’t good weeks, but every other day he got a letter from Geoffrey telling him what they were doing and how their cases were progressing and yes, it seemed likely that they were connected, so they’d be doing as much work as they could on getting that one solved before coming back up to finish the other. Jamie didn’t know how they could afford to be coming back and forth between countries, but he had learned a long time ago never to talk about money, because he couldn’t tell what things about it were rude. So he waited for them to come back, hoping that Geoffrey hadn’t been driven away by his meltdown.
They didn’t usually happen that quickly. There were usually warning signs, for him and for other people. But the thought of Geoffrey leaving overwhelmed him almost instantly, and his reaction to that would have been bad enough, he thought, without all the associated thoughts that ran out from it about weirdness and loneliness and his first friend in a long, long time going away from him. He hoped he hadn’t ensured that Geoffrey never came back.
But the letters kept coming, and one day Geoffrey wrote to tell him that they were coming back. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, he said, until the plans were all arranged, but they would be back up in a few days. Jamie was barely able to sit still all day. Eventually, Mum persuaded him to write up a list of things he wanted to say to Geoffrey when he saw him again. It was mostly as a bargain to get him out of her way, but it worked. He sat down with his notebook and pencil, soon deep in thought.
- 1. Please don’t ever leave again.
2. How is your case going? You said you were almost done. Are you more done now?
3. I’ve never had a friend like you before.
“Oh, Jamie,” his Mum said, coming up behind him. “He can’t stay forever, he’s his own home to get back to!”
He turned around in his chair, scowling. “He hasn’t, though. He’s a lodger. He could lodge here. He could be a detective here!”
“Maybe.” Mum laid a hand on the back of his chair and let out a long breath. “I know you like him a lot.”
“I feel normal when I’m with him, Mum. He doesn’t think I’m weird and he likes what I like and he makes me happy.”
She smiled. “I’m glad. You deserve that, more than anyone I know. Tell you what,” she continued as she turned back towards the door, “ask him. I’ll talk to Mrs. Wainthropp when she gets here, OK?”
“About what?”
“Maybe she could expand her operation.”
Jamie frowned and turned back to his desk as Mum left. She knew he hated it when she didn’t explain what she was talking about, but today he didn’t care as much as he usually did. Geoffrey was coming back, as soon as tomorrow, and he would ask him to stay. He knew it probably wouldn’t work, because it was expensive to move places and Geoffrey didn’t know anyone else in the area, but he would ask. And at least this time he knew they were only coming up for a week, so if Geoffrey did go back it wouldn’t be as unexpected. He nodded to himself, satisfied that he had worked it out.
- 4. Do you like Scotland?
5. Would you like to live here?
The day Geoffrey and Mrs. Wainthropp were to return, Jamie couldn’t seem to sit still. He’d try to do something to help out, but all too soon would be walking to and from a corner thinking about everything he was going to say to Geoffrey when he came in. He liked corners. They focused his thoughts more than parallel lines did, and he needed his thoughts to be focused. He couldn’t have another meltdown just when Geoffrey came back, that wouldn’t be good at all!
In the end, his Mum set him to making sure there were enough pillows in each room. It took him a while, as he kept rushing to the stairs whenever the front door opened, but he had nearly finished when he heard Geoffrey’s voice through a window.
“I’ll be honest, I’m-”
But Jamie didn’t hear the rest, instead rushing downstairs and out the front door.
“Geoffrey!”
“Jamie!”
The two ran up to each other, grinning madly. Jamie, for all the items on his list, couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Finally Geoffrey cleared his throat.
“Er… can I hug you?”
Jamie didn’t touch people. He didn’t like the way it felt, and it was intrusive, and boarders were forever touching his shoulder to get his attention and he hated it. But he remembered Geoffrey’s arms around him during his meltdown, and that hadn’t been so bad. It had actually been quite nice. So he nodded and spread his arms wide, and Geoffrey rushed forward and curled his arms around Jamie and it was very strange, Jamie had to fight the urge to freeze, but the pressure was deep enough that it was calming rather than horrible and he allowed himself to relax, to circle his own arms around Geoffrey’s back and squeeze.
“I’m glad you’re back, Geoffrey Shawcross.” His voice came out mumbled from where his face was pressed against Geoffrey’s shoulder, but he seemed to have made himself understood because Geoffrey laughed.
“I’m glad I’m back too, Jamie Holmes.”
After that it was easy. With the information from their case in Darwen, Mrs. Wainthropp and Geoffrey were able to solve their case quickly, leaving most of a week for a holiday. Jamie was delighted to have Geoffrey back, and wasted no time in telling him the things from his list. Well, most of them. The questions about moving he carefully saved for later, just in case.
Oh the fourth night, however, Geoffrey asked him directly. “You’ve been holding something back, haven’t you? Is there something wrong that I can help with?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, thank you for asking.” Jamie paused. “That is, I have a question, and Mum says maybe I shouldn’t ask it, so I’m not asking it. But that’d be what I’m holding back.”
“Go on, ask me. Or you could give me hints and I could try I guess?”
“No.” Jamie grinned. “I’m no good at those. My question is do you think you’d like to move up here.”
Geoffrey blinked. A slow smile spread across his face. “You told your Mum about this, right?”
“Of course I did.”
“Well, that would explain what Mrs. Wainthropp was going on about!” Geoffrey laughed. “She asked me if I wanted to be the Scottish branch of our operation. Those were her actual words, which was odd.”
“Oh, that’s what Mum meant!” Not that this answered Jamie’s question. “So… I told Mum, and she told Mrs. Wainthropp, and she told you. You’ve had longer to think about it than I thought, then.” He flicked his eyes up to Geoffrey’s face. “So what do you think?”
“Honestly?” Geoffrey took a deep breath. “I don’t know. It’s a big step, moving somewhere. But I do like it here. I mean, you’re here, how bad can it be, right?”
“Right.” Jamie was relieved, but noted that he still had not received a yes or no answer. “D’you want to think about it more? You’ve a few more days yet before we go back to letters.”
“I… yeah. You know what, I’ll talk to Mrs. Wainthropp and tell you tomorrow.”
“Good! That’s very good. D’you want to help me stay out of Mum’s way while she’s cooking?”
“Sure, that sounds like fun.” With a grunt, Geoffrey pushed himself up from the lawn where they’d been sitting and they headed back to the house together.
The next morning, after breakfast but before cleaning up the kitchen, Jamie and his Mum and Geoffrey and Mrs. Wainthropp gathered in the dining room to discuss Geoffrey’s options. Jamie thought it was awkward to have all of them there like that, but Geoffrey didn’t say anything. Finally, Mrs. Wainthropp brought up the topic.
“Now, I’m not as young as I used to be, and it’d be nice to know this detective business of mine was continuing on elsewhere. Geoffrey would need to get a P.I. licence and a place to stay, of course.”
“Well,” Jamie’s Mum interjected, “he could stay here, of course, but I’m afraid we’re not really meant for long-term housing. It’d be best for everyone if that were a temporary solution.”
“Seriously?” The three other turned to look at Geoffrey, who had nearly shouted. “You’re just talking about this like I’ve already decided to move!”
Mrs. Wainthropp’s brow furrowed. “Haven’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but you’re making it sound like that’s secondary!”
“You know, you’re right.” She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Geoffrey. You’re not as young as you used to be either. This is your decision.”
“Did I hear you right, though?” Jamie burst out. “You’re moving here?”
Geoffrey flicked his eyes over to Jamie and gave him a quick, small smile. “I am, yeah.”
With no preamble Jamie jumped up from his bench and ran to Geoffrey’s side of the table. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before leaning down and wrapping his arms around Geoffrey. The hug was awkward, being sideways, but Geoffrey did his best to return it.
After a few seconds of amused glances at each other, Mrs. Wainthropp decided to extend her time in Scotland to help Geoffrey set things up and Jamie’s Mum agreed to let them their same rooms for at least an extra week.
“The season’s heating up, Jamie,” she told her son, which was something she said a lot that he had learned meant A lot more people will be coming soon, “but since you all want this so much I can move some other people.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m so happy for you, Jamie.”
Jamie wasn’t sure why she was happy for him, but he knew why he was happy for himself.
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