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It was, Robbie decided, one of the more challenging days of working under Chief Inspector Morse.
Not that it was usually particularly easy to deal with the old curmudgeon – and despite this, he not only greatly enjoyed working under him, but also like him quite a lot, although he knew better than ever admit as much to the man himself.
Then again, on days like this…
Robbie wondered if perhaps Morse was hungover – and all too common occurrence and something he worried more about than he probably should have – but it didn’t matter, really. Their case was going nowhere, and Superintendent Strange had come in to lecture them on how they had dealt with the press – by which he meant that Morse had done what he usually did, which was either ignore them if it was possible and then tell off the one reporter who had dared approach him despite that.
At the same time, the superintendent had obviously been in a bad mood too. Not that Robbie was surprised – Strange often was – and Val, who had seen his wife once or twice, claimed that she was “hardly better – have you seen that they barely looked at one another – something like this could never happen to us, Robbie!”
But it was really not his place to speculate. He knew he was the luckiest man alive, and that was enough for him.
Nor was it his place to wonder why DCI Morse had never got married, despite obviously having quite an eye for the ladies, as the young ones said. And really, after that case with his former – no, no, it was best not to dwell on it.
Sometimes, it was true, he imagined Morse as a young copper starting out, even though he could barely picture him doing actual police work instead of just showing up when there was an interesting case and leaving the paperwork to Robbie. But it wasn’t as if he would ever find out.
Or so he had thought.
As far as Robbie could tell, no one at the station really had to deal with… the other things on a day-to-day basis. The other things – that were those… peculiarities (he really did spend a lot of time with DCI Morse, didn’t he). one ever only talked about in whispers, or not at all, strange happenings that could change one’s life in a second, they said, or make it so that the one you had lived had never existed; magic and creatures and mayhem and everything in-between.
So, he supposed he ought to be relieved that they rarely, if ever, happened across things like that and, from what he could guess from Morse’s spare allusions to the past – most of the time, he could have sworn that he had just one day appeared in the world as a cantankerous old bugger, and he meant that affectionately – it had always been this way.
In other words – there was no reason to think – to believe – to imagine –
And yet.
It all began – as he would later think of course – with a kindness of Morse’s.
“No, Lewis, it’s better if I deal with this kind of thing – someone who doesn’t have anyone they leave behind, just in case” he decided to ignore the sarcastic undertone. “You never know…” and he sailed forth to question a – Robbie had no idea if witch was even the right word.
But whatever it was, he was busy with the paperwork from their latest case anyway, this being something that Morse usually left to him, so he shrugged and went back to it.
Only to raise his head and frown when DCI Morse returned.
“Sir, is everything alright?”
“Of course it is, Lewis, why wouldn’t it be?” he muttered, but he was pale and shaking.
Sadly, his first thought was that, perhaps, his boss had simply not been drinking enough – after all – they said – when one was –
As always, he shied away from the thought, if only because he couldn’t bear it.
But – no – he frowned. He’d seen him only two hours ago – could it get that bad in that short a time? Now, with other drugs, he could believe that, but –
No, something was wrong, something was very wrong.
And then he found out just how right his instincts had been.
As a rule, Morse hardly talked of his past. In fact, until that one case involving his former – the point was, until then, Robbie would not have been surprised to learn that he had one day been dropped right into the good old city of Oxford, always having been over fifty.
But today, things were… different.
As a general rule, Morse could be chatty enough when he was in a good mood (which in itself didn’t happen all too often, truth be told) and since Robbie usually found him quite amusing during those times (again, it didn’t happen all too often) he always listened.
But today –
“Oy” he said while browsing the newspaper during a break, as he was wont to since he was used to it from Val and their breakfast and dinner table (and truth be told, most of the time Morse didn’t even react anyway, as long as he got the crosswords) “seems like they had to put down one of the tigers at the zoo. Such a shame – they’re –“
“Magnificent creatures, as Mr. Bright would have said” Morse replied distractedly. “Even if one of them tried to devour me – wonder if it was that one.”
Robbie stared at him. He’d grown used to quite a lot of things, being DCI Morse’s bagman, but this – “I’m sorry, sir?”
“That was after I’d met Bixby – or was it – no, no, I’m rather sure it was after I had met Bixby and had to drag his body out of the river, but before the bank robbery – “
What was going on? “And the tiger?” he asked calmly because this seemed to be the sort of thing that he ought to worry about.
“Oh, it was at the old Monford estate – you see, one of their daughters had been mauled by one when she was a child, and because of that she used it as a murder weapon –“
When Robbie had been on the beat, and even more so when he had been working at Vice, he’d seen his fair share of people suddenly snapping. You developed a feeling for it, after a while – who might suddenly break a bottle over your head, that kind of thing. But this –
A tiger as a murder weapon? Not to mention the body he had dragged out of the river – he had certainly never mentioned that before – and –
“Sir would you like a cup of tea?” he asked once they had returned to the station, only to be shocked yet again for Morse blinked at him, once, twice, then got up with a grace that belied his age.
“Yes, I will –“ he stopped, blinked at Robbie, rubbed his face. “I – I mean – yes, Lewis, thank you. Two –“
“I know, sir” he said before hurrying away, more worried than before.
Had DCI Morse really just almost gotten up to make tea? And had he forgotten that Robbie knew how he liked to take his? Add to that that he was suddenly prone to telling stories –
Robbie remembered what he had been up to before and his blood ran cold.
He thought about calling for help, but didn’t really know who to ask. He did not feel comfortable with Superintendent Strange knowing about it – his blood still boiled when he thought about how he had so easily arrested Morse when it had been clear that he would never commit murder – and the others seemed not to care about him, really, with the possible exception of Doctor DeBryn, but he was at a conference this week.
And then there was – well –
DCI Morse might act like he didn’t care for anything but his beloved music, but Robbie knew better. Deep down, he was a copper through and through, and if they should send him away for having – it would not be – he couldn’t –
No, no, best check every possibility before (something that DCI Morse had never done, not when he w sure, but at the moment Robbie couldn’t be sure of anything).
So his best bet was to retrace DCI Morse’s steps.
Now, on a normal day, it would not have been difficult at all to get DCI Morse to leave early, mostly because he always seemed to do what he wanted, and good luck trying to get him to actually keep work hours, but today…
Contrary to popular belief, DCI Morse actually did his paperwork, but there was still something off about the way…
And since when did he type so slowly? Robbie would be the first to state that he would never win any prizes, but he had been much faster than that…
And there were still the occasional off-hand comments that did not make any sense.
“Rosalind Calloway would be remembered as one of the greats now if not for that unfortunate –“
“I sometimes wonder what became of these girls at the haunted school – “
“Now I could have dealt with pot, but what they call LSD these days –“
Apart from the fact that he would have been rather curious to hear those stories – no, it just wasn’t right. Something was very Wong, rather.
But it all led to Morse actually deciding they might leave on time for once and telling him to have a nice evening and greet his wife.
Yes, something had to be done, and quickly at that.
He told him that he would be gone as soon as he finished this file, resulting in a friendly shake of the head and a “You should know when to enjoy things, Robbie” – yes, he had to act, now – and waited until he could be sure he was on his way home before he set out himself.
Luckily, the file was still in DCI Morse’s desk, so he knew where to go.
He really should have made more of an effort to get to know every part of Oxford when he and Val decided to settle here, he thought guiltily. But with the kiddies, and getting the house ready, and having to settle into his new role – and getting used to Morse’s moods – he just hadn’t had the time.
But it couldn’t be all that different from dealing with any other case, surely? After all, he had the address of the witness Morse had spoken to – and once he got there, he could clear things up –
Only that he never made it this far.
At first, he had no idea why the hairs at the back of his neck were standing up, and then he realized that he had passed into the Quarter without realizing. It had to be the explanation – he would hardly find a shop who offered Spells, Readings & Advice anywhere else in Oxford.
Maybe, he told himself, that was just how it worked. Maybe there was nothing strange about him not remembering how he had come here. Maybe.
Better deal with what he had come here for and return home as quickly as possible.
Naturally, he would think much later when he was wiser when it came to things like this, its wasn’t going to be that easy.
Yes – he checked – that was the correct address.
Even if it wasn’t quite what he had imagined.
Were those – chicken feet the house was standing on?
Now, he loved reading to the kiddies, and his mum had always been glad to tell fairy tales too, so he knew a thing or two about witch houses, but this seemed a bit extreme.
There was nothing for it but to knock, though.
If only he’d gotten that far.
He had just stepped up to the door when a voice behind him asked, “What do I have to do to keep you away from here?”
He turned around and found a – a –
He could never describe her, not really. He was certain she was a she, but that was it.
“Good evening, ma’am” he decided to be polite – it was usually the best tactic, despite Morse’s refusal to try – “I am Detective Sergeant Robbie Lewis, and I am here pursuing inquiries –“
“Oh, yes, I know, of course I do. Your boss let me know…”
There was something about this that rubbed him the wrong way. After all, this was Morse they were speaking of – he would make inquiries, yes, but the way she said it implied he had told her everything, which was –
“It’s hardly my fault that he couldn’t handle the rest.”
The –
For the first time in his life – not even back on the beat had he ever imagined such – he wished he had a weapon, but then, it might be useless her.
She smiled – a poisonous thing, like a snake, and a shiver ran down his spine. What – what was she capable of? He had no idea. He had never bothered to find out –
“Well… seeing as our Dear Chief Inspector Morse could not deal with seeing his past” Robbie would not have said that, on the contrary, he’d seen how badly it had shaken him, this was not “how about…” she tilted her head to the side. “No, your own – this won’t do – you really are a good, happy man deep down, aren’t you? Well then – I’ll just have to do something a little bit worse than I did to our dear chief inspector –“
She laughed sharply enough that it might have broken glass if any had been at hand, and reached out a hand –
And everything went black.
As he woke up, he could feel coldness seeping through his clothes and right into his bones, and he shivered involuntarily as he sat up.
The first thing he noticed was that it was starting to grow dark – which meant he must have been unconscious for an hour or more –
Oh God, Val would be worried – and it was his night with the kiddies – Morse probably hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t returned but still –
He sat up and looked around, frowning as he did so.
He was still in the same street – yes, undoubtedly, he recognized that house at the end but –
There had been – hadn’t there been two trees? He could have sworn there had been.
What –
He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths before getting up.
First and foremost, he had to find a phone and let the station know. And then he had to tell Val –
He staggered and forced himself to stand still for a few moments, even though his instincts were screaming at him to get away.
After all, he reminded himself, just because one woman in the Quarter had – what? Attacked him? Hexed him? He couldn’t even say – the point was, there might be many more people around who could help him than if he left. And, he told himself, he should perhaps get checked out just to make sure, lest anything –
But first of all, he had to get away. They could deal with – this later.
The Quarter was not a big place, and so he could leave it behind in just a few minutes, although not nearly as quickly as he would have liked.
And then he was –
He blinked as he looked around, his mind trying to comprehend – all that he knew, all that he felt was that there was something wrong, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but there was –
And then he realized that the people who were about were wearing strange clothes – no, not strange – they had been dressed like that when he was just a teen getting interested in pretty girls – yes –
And the cars, those were not – well – Morse’s Jaguar would most definitely not have looked out of place here, which he now and then tended to do these days, especially when people had no taste –
Yes, something was very, very wrong.
What would Morse do, he thought confusedly? He would probably huff and say something like “Le-wis this is clearly impossible do try and make sense” before looking for a pub…
Fine, he just had to –
He leaned against the nearest wall and tried to remember what exactly had happened to him.
He had gone to check up on whatever lead Morse had been working on. This much was clear.
What was it exactly that she had said before he’d passed out?
I’ll just have to do something a little bit worse than I did to our dear chief inspector –
While it did tell him that she had most definitely done something to Morse (he was growing more and more worried with each passing moment – if he was this shaken, what would it do to Morse, who was after all quite a bit older than him?) he still had no idea what exactly had happened.
First of all, get it together, man. You’re no use to anyone, least of all yourself, if you don’t do that –
And then – “Excuse me, sir, are you alright?”
He turned his head and saw a man – a little younger than him, he’d guess – with red hair and rather expressive eyes. For some reason, he looked familiar even if he couldn’t place him.
“Yes, thank you” he replied because he should be the one offering people help, not the other way around. That was why he had gone to the police in the first place.
“Are you sure of that, sir?”
He nodded, thinking there was something about that voice, or perhaps that accent –
And then –
“Because if you do need help” and he fished a police badge out of his jacket. “DS Morse.”
At first, he didn’t understand, thought it was a joke or that he had misheard –
And then he looked into those eyes and knew exactly where he had seen them before.
And for the second time that day, everything went black.
He woke up with – with –
DCI Morse leaning over him, only he was not DCI Morse now, he was nothing but a sergeant, like Robbie himself.
“Sir?”
He almost laughed at him calling Robbie that, but somehow managed not to.
“Can you tell me your name?”
For one moment, he thought of refusing, then realized that his name would mean nothing to Morse (not yet – no, no, it was impossible – )
“Robe – Robbie Lewis.” Like so many others, Morse usually called him Robbie when he could get himself to use his first name, that was.
“I see, Mr. Lewis. Since you were unconscious – what day is it?”
“I…”
It was a normal question of course, the kind of question one asked when someone had fainted; but how could he tell him that, from his point of view at least, it was 1993 and he ought to be much older?
“Wednesday” he finally ventured forth because it had been, and as far as he remembered from stories, it was almost exactly the same day of the week when opine was thrown around like this.
Morse nodded, and he relaxed. At least he had been able to prove that he wasn’t completely insane. “And the date?”
Sometimes, it was best to just be honest, and he shook his head.
It was a good thing he hadn’t tried to speak, for the next thing he said was, “It’s May 5th, 1968, sir.”
19 –
He was going to be sick, and that was –
He swallowed, breathed, swallowed again, then nodded.
“And do you remember what happened to you?”
There, at least, he could be honest. “I – I was in the Quarter, and –“
Morse’s face fell – it was rather – strange to be able to read him so openly; normally, he was an enigma and Robbie got by with guesses, which ended well or did not depending on his governor’s mood.
“I was attacked” he added quickly. “I was just walking down the street, and I was attacked.”
He nodded, once, twice, but of course there was still a certain suspicion lurking behind his eyes – and how could it not? This was the Quarter they were talking about. “Have you been robbed?”
Robbie knew that trick – as old as time for a copper – get someone to take out their wallet, then check the ID – and so he pretended that he couldn’t feel it as he padded himself down even though it was there, of course. Not that he was all too worried about the name, as he’d thought before, but he was rather sure his police badge looked sort of different from what this chap was used to. After all, in 1968… another wave of nausea rose up in his throat and he swallowed it down.
Val. Val and the kiddies.
1968 – Val wouldn’t even know him yet, and the kiddies weren’t –
“If you would accompany me to the station, I am sure we –“
“No; please – no –“ It was the one thing he didn’t want – after all – he couldn’t very well go on working for the police in ten years’ time if he was arrested now, could he? And what if they tried contacting his parents? Would they bring in his own teenage self?
If he hadn’t been looking at Morse the entire time, he would never have believed any of this.
But then, what choice did he have? He knew Morse too welk – at least he liked to think so – than to doubt as to what he would do, and then he’d probably end up being held for questioning when he had to show them what to them would be a forged –
But Morse was frowning at him, and then his face softened – in a way he had only ever seen once or twice, for example on that day when a murderer had forced him to dig his own grave –
“Do you have a place to stay?”
It was only then that he realized that no, he had not – that year, he had still been living with his parents, intent on joining the Academy as soon as possible, and they’d hardly be happy to see him arrive, especially with his teenage self –
He rubbed his temples and shook his head.
Morse frowned then nodded to himself – with that gesture, at least, Robbie was familiar – before saying, “Come with me.”
What could he do but obey? Even if he had not been used to it, he doubted he would have been able to outrun the young man, (Morse young, Morse younger than Robbie himself, good God) shaken as he was.
He still half-expected to be led to a car and then dropped off at the station, but instead, Morse led him to –
Robbie didn’t recognize the building, but whether that was because it had been torn down in the meantime or because he had simply never seen it before…
He only realized Morse had taken him to his place when he fished out his keys.
Somehow, it seemed almost comical to see him live anywhere else but the house Robbie usually picked him up from.
To be honest, though, the most shocking thing was that Morse trusted him enough to just invite him in. Now, when he’d chosen hymn as his bagman (and set tongues wagging – not that Robbie thought he’d ever given a bloody damn about any of that), fine, but before that, he was rather sure he hadn’t had a visitor in quite a while…
“You can stay here, and tomorrow morning we will figure out the rest” Morse explained, but there was nothing of the sardonic tone Robbie knew so well.
No, he was genuinely rather at a loss what to do but couldn’t let anyone sleep on the streets, not after they had asked for his help.
Then again – Robbie had never been one of those who thought Morse was nothing but a miserable sod who didn’t care for anything but his music. No, he had quickly surmised, he was one of those who cared too much – had cared too much – and it had taken his toll.
It was already taking its toll, he thought miserably when he spied the empty bottles strewn around the place. This –
“Sit down” Morse told him, then, after he complied, blinked and said in the tone of someone who was not used to having visitors (something that, as he’d thought just now, would sadly never change). “I think I have something to eat in the fridge –“
He probably had something to drink around, but Robbie wasn’t going to remind him of that.
But, well, he had not been married for years now without learning a thing or two (he might never be as good as Val, but she had insisted that he learn how to feed himself and the children “Just in case” although neither of them could say what case she’d meant), so he followed him into the kitchen.
What he saw –
Well, it seemed depressingly familiar from the few times he’d been in his DCI’s kitchen. There was some bread that had seen better days, and some jam, but other than that…
He glanced at his watch, then realized he had no idea if it would even work now that he was…
But first things first. It was always best to think with a full stomach, even if Morse seemed not to agree with that. “I’ll just pop down to the shops”.
Morse turned and frowned at him, and this time, the resemblance was so striking that Robbie was lost for words. Yes – that was that sceptical, slightly annoyed look he knew so well.
But this – well – this wasn’t his governor, this was a sergeant just like Robbie himself, and they needed to eat.
And – he thought quickly – no, his money should be good, he couldn’t recall any big changes from when he had been a lad.
And he’d seen a shop a few doors down… “Be right back.”
Just that Morse let him leave and apparently expected him to come back was proof enough that he was not yet nearly as suspicious of everyone as he would later become.
It actually was kind of sad, when you thought about it…
No, not kind of, he rethought as he went shopping, his heart growing heavy in a very familiar way. He knew what people at the station thought of DCI Morse – but he’d always known he was a good man, a very good man, even, deep down, and to see him as a young one now, with hope in his eyes…
It wasn’t fair, he thought, not with their work, when they saw how many bad men had very happy lives while…
He could feed him, at least.
Despite having grown up around that time, he was somewhat shocked at how much he could get with his money back in those days. Well, at least he wouldn’t have any problems if he had to stay longer –
Not that he expected to. Of course not. He was going to go home – that kind of thing was what the Quarter was for. He’d go there in the morning, and everything would go back to normal –
That probably wasn’t all that different from where he was now, he thought when he returned and found Morse drinking.
Now, of course Morse’s… problem was no secret at work; mostly people ignored it and Robbie had quickly realized there was nothing to be done about it because Morse didn’t want to do anything about it, and anyway, how could you fight something that had been part of you for decades, no matter how destructive the habit might turn out to be?
But certainly now it was not yet too late. No, no, it couldn’t be. Maybe, if he gave him a nudge –
But what was he even thinking? He could hardly try and get him off the drink now, could he? For one, he was leaving again anyway, and… he didn’t know how any of this worked. Val was quite fond of Doctor Who, even now always watching the reruns, so he thought one shouldn’t try and change the past or something, but –
Still, if he could just get DCI Morse to –
He brightly announced, “Got everything we need.”
DCI Morse blinked at him in that way he usually did when someone showed him kindness (not that he would ever have told him that to his face), and said, clearly surprised that he would think of feeding him as well, “I’m not hungry”.
“You know what they say, appetite comes with eating” he said simply, which was what he told the kiddies since that was what his grandfather had liked to tell him, although not always to success. “So –“
Morse frowned again, and he wondered when he’d last smiled. For some reason, he’d always assumed he’d one that more often when he had been young, but he had clearly been mistaken.
“Let’s see then” he continued, “What can we do –“
Of course this meant that Robbie did the cooking – scrambled eggs as it turned out – while Morse moved around him, clearly confused by this intruder in his space.
Well, Robbie was used to that at least – shout at him, bite back sarcastically, get angry – that was no problem at all and more often than not, DCI Morse simply buried himself in their latest case – but be actually nice to him? He had no idea how to react.
His heart grew heavy, but he told himself that for tonight, just for tonight, he could change things.
Then –
“What were you doing in the Quarter?”
Seemed he had never been one for small talk. Robbie suppressed a smile when he said, “I was – going to see someone” again, it would probably be too much to hope that he would accept he had been pursuing inquiries that his older self had been busy with before he got – whatever had happened to him – “And things got – I don’t know.”
“The Quarter is a strange place” Morse replied and this at least he too was familiar with – Morse being enigmatic – “Although most people know not to go there –“
“It was necessary” he replied courtly, hoping to give the impression of someone who was actually familiar with those things – if this had been the DCI Morse he’d been used to, he wouldn’t even have attempted it, of course, but this, he reminded himself, was not that man yet – no, it was a colleague, another sergeant, and he didn’t have years of experience under his belt.
Then he realized that no matter what age, he would most likely want a better explanation and, rather in a stroke of genius (it really did pay off that the kiddies loved story time as much as he always had) he continued, “A – a close relative of mine, he – he went to the Quarter and came back… I can’t really explain it, but something was wrong, and I had to find out what happened.”
“So you just went into the Quarter because you were worried about a relative?”
“Oy” he replied, genuinely confused, “Isn’t that what anyone would do?”
D – Morse blinked at him, then took another sip (Robbie did his best not to wince), and answered, “No.”
“It’s what I did, at any rate.”
“It would seem so, and now you’re lost” he said evenly, but at the same time –
The biting sarcasm he knew so well was missing, and he’d not yet learned to hide that he was concerned for Robbie. It was almost refreshing to be able to read him so openly. And, he couldn’t deny that it was also… nice to see that he cared. He’d only seen that once so far, when he’d been attacked by a murderer in the woods…
And yet, there was already a hint of suspicion there, because he wouldn’t have been Morse if there hadn’t been.
He busied himself with dinner. It seemed to be the best course of action.
As he cooked, Morse hovered nearby, but of course he would. One wouldn’t want a man to poison you, right, when you were so busy doing it yourself, Robbie thought bitterly.
Now, he had early on realized that Morse wasn’t much open for talking, and he’d learned to keep his silence – at least when he could sense his governor was in a certain mood.
Still, it seemed silly not to talk given the circumstances. “Thank you for letting me stay here for a bit.” After all, he reminded himself, he could have dragged him to the station, and what would he have done now? It would have been something if they’d tried to reach Mum and Dad –
Morse nodded at him – anything more had probably been too much to hope – and he looked down at the meal he was preparing, wondering if he’d bought enough. Val or Mum – now that he’d thought of home, he couldn’t seem to stop – would have declared that Morse was far, far too skinny and tried to feed him up…
“May I ask what exactly you were planning on doing in the Quarter?” Morse then asked causally, or as casually as Morse ever got, which was not casually at all.
“Like I said, I was looking for someone”.
“Maybe I can help, since I am –“
“You can’t.” The last thing he wanted was to drag someone else into this – and DCI Morse –Sergeant Morse, as he was – at that. What if they got thrown into an even earlier time? He didn’t much fancy tumbling about between town and gown. Or fighting duels or riding in tournaments or whatever they had done back in those days.
“I think you will find –“
“Trust me, you really can’t.” It was the wrong thing to say, he knew that immediately. This was Morse they were talking about, he trusted no –
But he simply looked Robbie in the eyes and then slowly nodded, as if he was ready to let it go for now.
He couldn’t help but think that work might have been a lost easier if this had been –
But that was unfair to DCI Morse, really. He was a very clever man, Robbie was learning a lot from him and yes, he even liked him. He was the best there was, no matter how many people muttered behind his back.
“You got any plates?” he prompted him when it became clear he was not going to do anything on his own – he needs breaking in, Val would have said, someone to spend time with – and he blinked at him as if the thought hadn’t occurred but set the table, which was more than Robbie had hoped for.
He only picked at his plate for a minute or two, then thankfully seemed to gain an appetite.
There was little Robbie could do, really, but if he’d had just one good meal when he got back…
While he was on the subject…
“I – I have to go back to the Quarter soon. There’s something I have to deal with.”
Morse frowned at him, and oh God, did he recognize that look. His explanation had been found wanting and now – “And what exactly do you have to deal with?”
He chose to tell the truth. “I would tell you if I could. But I really can’t.” Again, there were too many stories of this kind of thing – all sorts of stuff could go wrong – what if he came back and – his heart beat painfully in his chest – the kiddies were never born or he and Val had split up or he had never met DCI Morse?
But he couldn’t think like that – he had learned that early on – he had to take one step at a time.
“You have to trust me” he pleaded, already knowing that it would Notz be enough, this was after all DCI E. (he knew other constables might have snooped, but he had never done it out of respect) Morse they were talking about –
Morse blinked, looked at him, then nodded once, twice and went back to picking at his food.
Robbie stared at him.
That was –
Well, for one, it was rather sad that he had grown out of that habit.
Then again, they probably wouldn’t have solved – well, DCI Morse wouldn’t have solved – as many cases as he did if he hadn’t…
Then, abruptly, Morse asked, “How can I help?”
That, too, was – well – no – Robbie, who liked to think he knew him as well as anyone could, was sure that his governor would have wanted to do exactly the same thing, only he wouldn’t have simply asked, and he would not have shown so clearly that he was ready to help in whatever way possible as he did so.
But this meant – again, he knew that it would be dangerous to just allow D – Mo – the young man to run where angels feared to thread, if only because he firmly believed that was how things should be –
“I don’t think you can. It’s… you know the Quarter.”
“Not really” Morse told him bluntly because of course he would. “Do you?”
He shook his head. “Can’t say I do, which is why I won’t let anyone risk their lives like that”. It might have been an exaggeration, and it might not have been – after all, he was fine, even if he was… but you never knew with magic, did you.
“I’m working for the police. It’s my job.”
Even if he was one of the few who actually believed that, Robbie thought sadly. He should know – he did too. There were others, of course – try as he might, he had his doubts about their superintendent, because could one really be independent if one hopped down to the Lodge several times a week, not to mention the time he had arrested Morse – but well, he was determined never to be one of them.
And so, he nodded but said, “Still, there is nothing you can do. I just have to get back home.”
“Up North?” he asked.
It certainly was a tempting thought, especially with after what had happened today, but Oxford was the right place for Val and the kiddies, and Robbie liked it well enough here too.
“Home” he repeated, hoping that it would be enough, but Morse’s eyes narrowed because of course he had noticed. He said nothing though.
That really, he would later think, should have been his first warning sign.
For now though, they finished their meal – well, Robbie finished his meal – and Morse offered him the old sofa in his small living room, which he was grateful for.
Plus it gave him every opportunity to slip out once the sun rose.
It was the best way to do it, really. Morse would never – well – there was just no way he would let him go; even at this age, Robbie was sure of that. And God knew what all of this could lead to… No, better to find the woman alone. If she even was a woman, one could never say…
The point was, he was not risking anyone else’s life, nor that they could be thrown even farther into the past. Although for them it wasn’t the past, it was the present…
He tried to sleep to get rid of the headache, It didn’t really work.
He left as soon as the sun was up – he’d barely slept, but then, of course he hadn’t, he’d been thinking about Val and the kiddies… God, he wanted to go home.
He just had to find her, he told himself. Just find the woman, and everything was going to be fine again…
And the Quarter wasn’t large. Surely, someone would be able to help him. After all, he had been there before, although not in this… time; and most folks there were just like the rest of them, albeit with powers or magic or whatever one wanted to call it.
So there would be enough ready to help him, he told himself, he just had to ask…
And he did indeed find help, although not the one that he had been expecting, and it certainly didn’t turn out the way –
The point was, he was walking down the street, debating on what shop he should enter. After all, it would probably be much safer to ask someone who was already used to dealing with people asking for something…
And then things became even more complicated.
He had not been wondering where to go for long when he heard a crisp, friendly voice.
“Can I help you?”
He turned around and frowned when he realized the young woman looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite…
“The Quarter can be quite confusing the first time around” she said with the self-assurance of someone who had spent a lot of time there and –
Wait –
Now that tone he had definitely heard before –
“I am just…” he took a deep breath. “I have a small problem and I’m trying to find someone who can help.”
She nodded sympathetically. “What exactly is your problem? I’ve been here before, I am sure I could –“
It was at this moment that things got even more confusing.
Now, Robbie was utterly certain that he had seen the woman before, only that at the same time, he felt he had not. Certainly, he would have remembered… After all, as Val would have said, she’s dark-haired too, you always remember those –
And then he said, “No, thank you, Miss, I’m just looking or someone –“
She frowned in response, and it was then that he knew.
He had only ever seen Mrs. Strange twice, and then fleetingly – she certainly never came to the station, and as far as her husband went… He tried not to gossip about his superior offices, of course he didn’t, but it was a well-known fact that whenever Superintendents Strange mentioned his wife, it was either to talk about some new club she had joined or yet another welfare project that didn’t sound much like welfare at all. And she never, unless it suited her, so they said, seemed to smile.
Now, though –
She looked positively radiant, if determined to see what this strange man was doing here – wait, but certainly she didn’t –
But it quickly became clear that she was, indeed, worried for the citizens of the Quarter and wondering whether he might pose a threat. She didn’t come out and say it, of course not, but it was obvious nonetheless. After all, these sly questions about who he was trying to find –
“It’s a private matter, Miss” he insisted. “Everything will be fine, surely.”
“Still, if I could just –“
And then, because of course this seemed to be his luck these days –
“Mr. Lewis!”
Distractedly, he thought that apparently, Morse had never called anyone by his first name in his life and was not about to start now.
Mrs. Strange – he had no idea what else to call her – turned around. “Hello, Morse.”
“Oh”. He – blushed? “Miss Thursday.”
He couldn’t help but stare. He was rather sure he had never seen Morse embarrassed before in his life.
“I was wondering where you’d gone” he then said.
“I didn’t want to inconvenience you” he replied mostly because it was the sort of thing that those stuffy professors they interviewed on a regular basis would say, and Joan laughed.
“Two peas in a pod, I see.”
He told himself to remember that for when Morse made him write all the reports again.
“Be that as it may, Mr. Lewis” he then said, apparently trying to work the case, even if he didn’t know there was one yet, “It would be much better if someone were to accompany you –“
“I do hope you’re not suggesting everyone living in the Quarter is a criminal”.
“Of course not” he turned to Mrs. – Miss Thursday. “But the matter remains that there are many dangers here for – for those without magical powers” remembering growing up, Robbie was rather impressed that he was already trying to be polite about those “powers” in the Seventies “And we should be careful so that there is no –“
“Nonsense –“ she turned to him. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
Guessing what she meant he said, “Robbie.”
“Joan. As I was saying, Robbie here could just enter any shop and they would help him –“
“Because it is in their interest to –“
“Oh, in their interest, I see, because of course people only do things once It is in their interest –“
He wondered if they even knew he was there anymore amongst all this… what was going on? He’d had no idea DCI Morse even knew the superintendent’s wife, let alone that he had known her for this long –
A suspicion darted in his mind, but really, it was nothing – if there – he wouldn’t start with the gossip now when he had done his outmost to ignore it ever since he had become DCI Morse’s bagman. No, no, he wouldn’t –
Seeing as they were still talking, he cleared his throat. “Thank you very much for your help, but I know what to do now.” It was a dismissal, and one that would never have worked with the Morse he knew so well, but –
“You don’t even know where to go” Miss Thursday pointed out.
“Yes, but that’s not your problem –“
“You’re clearly in distress” Morse said, “And as such it is my duty –“
“Robbie” Miss Thursday interrupted him, “You have to know that this could be very dangerous, and if there is anything we can do to help –“
Morse looked like he would very much like to object to the We, but since there was little he could say at the moment he chose not to.
“You really can’t” he said. “Like I said, I promise you can’t. I have to get home as quickly as possible.”
Even as he spoke, he could feel it was useless – surprisingly, though, not because of Morse – no, he actually seemed ready to let him go if he needed to –
But – Joan… “Really, it’s no trouble” she insisted. “That’s what I do.”
“You work for – “ Morse began only for her to shake her head.
“Oh, what does it matter when someone needs my help? Time to save the world!”
Morse looked – he couldn’t read his expression, and then suddenly he could.
Well, as one of Val’s favourite novels would have said, the gentleman at least knew what it was to love.
But that was – he – a thousand suspicions darted in his mind, and why Morse was such a miserable sod, and how he and Strange sometimes seemed like they couldn’t stand one another, and how Strange had immediately put DCI Morse under arrest instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt even after knowing him for decades –
No, no, he told himself. He would not. He would not.
Morse and Joan were looking at one another, then he nodded, once, twice before turning to Robbie. “How about you tell us everything from the beginning – Robbie.”
This was going to be – difficult. He could hardly expect either of them to believe him – or rather – Joan might, since she was used to the Quarter or its ways, or at least seemed to have been here often enough – but Morse? He was suspicious of everyone and everything, which was one of the things that made him a great detective, but at the same time…
“I don’t belong here” he began, and Joan turned away; he needed a moment to realize that she was struggling to hide a smile. So, he thought it best to add, “And nor do I belong anywhere – at this time, that is.”
“This time?” Morse demanded, and he could see the clogs turning in his head. Of course he would already be going through every possibility – this was Morse they were talking about – but how he could –
Thinking I’m from the future might be a bit much, he said, “I should be – in another time. I was confronted by someone from the Quarter and the next thing I knew, I was here”.
Morse’ frowned deepened into something that looked so familiar Robbie felt even more homesick than a moment or so ago. “But what do you –“
“I know this must be frustrating” an understatement, his governor had never known when to let sleeping dogs lie, which, if you asked Robbie (and Val, since he had of course talked about it with her) was one of the reasons he’d never managed to go further than DCI; even though he would have deserved it, and more than many others who had a higher position “But if I could tell you, I would.”
“I think it –“ and knowing that this most likely meant that he really wanted to take him to the station now, and given that he had all but fled from his place he certainly had a reason to wonder, Robbie quickly interrupted him.
“Like I said, please – there’s nothing you can do. You might already have done too much” again, Val quite liked science fiction, and growing up, his cousin Mel had been mighty fond of it too, so he knew some ground rules, and he didn’t like to think that any of this stuff might happen – wasn’t there a story where a man just walked into the jungle a million years ago and when he came back there was an evil dictator in power or something? Val had read it once. No, better if he dealt with this alone.
“Well, I don’t think you really have a choice” Joan then told him. “We’re here to help, so we will.”
“Miss Thursday, I really don’t think –“
“He hasn’t committed a crime, so this is not even your jurisdiction –“
“Neither is he accompanied by a child, so I don’t see how –“
While it was not the polite thing to do at all, Robbie thought it might be a good idea to slip away while they were bickering, only it wasn’t to be.
He’d barely made three steps when Joan – a woman, they said at the station, who barely paid attention to anyone under the rank of DI, and then only when she hoped to get something out of it, although Robbie of course did his best not to listen to such gossip – called out “Wait a moment!”
“Miss Thursday –“
“Joan” she rolled her eyes then said, “Don’t think of going anywhere.”
“I have the right –“
“You shouldn’t be walking right into the Quarter when you have no idea what happened to you.”
“Miss Thursday, your father –“
“And who’s going to tell Dad?”
Morse looked rather guilty.
“That’s what I thought. Alright then, let’s get on with it.”
And Robbie had to resign himself to the fact there was nothing he could do about it all, for now.
It quickly transpired that really neither Morse nor Joan knew much about the Quarter, which might either be very good or very bad, depending on what would come of it all.
There was also…
Well…
There was this tension between the future DCI Morse and the future Mrs. Strange. And no, it wasn’t just because of unrequited –
He focused on getting home. That was what was important; and certainly, he hadn’t spent enough time here to – to – he didn’t even know what, just that he didn’t belong and he had to return to where he did, and that he had no idea what he would do if he could not (no, don’t even think about it, don’t).
“Now, we have to know what we’re looking for first” Morse declared, which really was something considering he had already got injured several times because he often did not stop and think before rushing straight into – but then, that was usually when he had already figured out the solution to the case.
But then, he first glanced at Joan, then at Robbie, and he realized he was only saying it because he was with them –
Times change, and people change with them, man, he told himself, although he couldn’t help but feel a little sad when he saw the young man with hope in his eyes and compared him to the DCI he knew.
“Is there anything you can tell us… Robbie? Anything at all?”
“I…” he frowned as he tried to remember what exactly had happened and found it strangely difficult. “There was… a woman” yes he was reasonably sure of that “And before that there was –“
“Don’t force it” Joan said, almost gently, once again missing the glance Morse bestowed on her. “Just take a deep breath and let it come naturally.”
Now, he had already given the same advice to enough people to know that it worked, so he fought down the urge to snap back and complied.
It was then that –
“There was a house – it was – I know how this sounds but – it was standing on chicken legs.”
“Well” Joan began “That is –“
But at the same time Morse spluttered, “Chicken legs? Are you sure?”
He nodded, and he frowned.
“What is it?” Joan demanded.
“I think – well – there is a story, and a rather well-known one… We should go back to the flat.”
The flat, Robbie thought, not my flat or my place or, God forbid, my home – no, that wouldn’t have fit with Morse anyway.
And yet, this too was sad, in a way.
Morse did not say a word on the way, which Robbie was all too used to. However, Joan seemed determined to make him talk.
“And what’s your wife’s name?”
“Val” he replied.
“How long have you been married?”
“Twelve years now.”
“You two got started early, didn’t you?” she laughed in such a way that let him know she did not mean to offend but rather thought it all a good joke – again, different from… but he didn’t know Mrs. Strange, not really, and neither did he know Joan now, so –
“I knew from the first moment I met her”.
“Doesn’t happen often.”
He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a comment of some sort, but anyway, Morse was lost in his head, once more a sight Robbie knew all too well.
“Got two little ones” he therefore quickly answered, “Lyn and Mark.”
“Ah, older sister, younger brother. I know how that works.”
He’d never known she had a brother, but then, he wouldn’t have. “Oy, he likes to tease her, and she insists she’s the adult in the house.”
She laughed. “As stated before…”
They arrived back at Morse’s place. He fished out the keys and held open the door; he only realized that he was watching him intently because he knew him so well.
He let Joan go first, of course. Anything else would have been impolite.
Only when he saw her look around did he realize that she must never have been in here, which struck him as a little odd considering how familiar she had seemed when greeting him, but then – it was also somewhat strange that there were so obviously –
But then, what did he know? Most of his friends had told him at one point or another that he had been very lucky finding his Val so early, and of course they had been right.
Morse immediately went to his bookcase – a gesture that weirdly made his homesickness worse, but perhaps that was only normal because he had seen it so many times – and grabbed a book without thinking much about it.
“Can’t say I’m surprised” Joan said cheerfully, and Robbie simply nodded.
Morse was naturally already leafing through it, muttering to himself before – “Yes. There. Vasilisa the Beautiful.”
He didn’t quite know what this had to do with him, but knowing Morse, he would eventually get to the point.
“It’s your usual Snow White tale – an evil stepmother and a beautiful girl – but when she sends her into the woods at night she finds – ah, there it is”. And he read, in a voice that would not change much, as Robbie already knew, “She walked all day, until at last she came to Baba-Yaga's hut, which stood forbidding on its large chicken legs. A fence made of human bones surrounded the hut. It was crowned with human skulls. The gate had a sharp set of teeth that served as a lock. Vasilisa was terribly afraid….” He flipped a page or two. “The earth shook, the trees groaned and there was Baba-Yaga, riding in her mortar…”
“A mortar?” Joan demanded.
“That’s what the stories say… in this one, Baba Yaga wants to eat Vasilisa , but she helps her when she doesn’t succeed. "I knew it," said Baba-Yaga. "You'd better be gone. I will not have people with blessings in my home. With that, the old woman pushed Vasilisa out of the hut and through the gate. Then she took one of the skulls, stuck it on the end of a stick and gave it to the girl, saying, "Here's a light for your stepmother and her daughters. That's what you came here for, isn't it?"”
“How does a skill help her?”
“It burns her stepmother and the stepdaughters to ash.”
“Not a very nice witch, is she.”
“That’s not the point of the story. Such folklore tales are usually meant to illustrate the reward for a good life –“
“I know that –“
“Doesn’t think he meant you don’t” Robbie said because he knew Morse well enough for that. How often had he wished that he would just be a little less… but then he wouldn’t have been Morse, would he. “It’s just how those posh people at the college talk.”
Morse frowned, clearly not liking being compared to that lot, but Joan seemed to immediately be placated. “Never thought of that.”
“I am not –“
“Dad told us – well, he told Mum, they were in the kitchen – and none of us ever went to college” she shrugged. “Not like it’s important, and at least you know more than enough for your cases.”
No one could have denied that –
“Depends, sometimes I could swear the inspector thinks I know too much –“ Morse actually – joked? And they –
All of a sudden, Robbie rather wished he were not in the room.
But he couldn’t help it, and perhaps it was best… after all, he knew how it would end.
“So this… Baba Yaga” now that he had heard it, the name sounded familiar… “She can do this kind of thing?”
“The stories are vague, as such stories often are, but we have no reason to believe she can’t. The Quarter…” He shook his head.
“I’ve been trying to tell my colleagues that we should spend more time there” Joan said. “They’re prat of the town too. It’s no good having it all so separate. And it’s just magic anyway –“
“I wouldn’t say that” Robbie said mildly.
She looked stricken. “I’m sorry, I didn’t –“
“No, it’s – I just mean that – “
She looked at him and nodded.
He was glad that he had managed – that he hadn’t let on how he really felt, at least at the moment. In truth, just thinking about not returning home…
But now, of course he would, they would find – no, he would find; there was no reason to risk DCI Morse’s or Joan’s life; yes, he would sneak away again, and this time he would do it so no one would be able to follow him.
And at least he now had a chance to find someone who knew this Baba Yaga, and how to deal with her.
It was Joan who insisted they sit down and make a plan, thereby making it impossible to try and sneak away again for the time being; when Morse tried to object, she rolled her eyes and said, “This is not an official case and I’m kind of too old for that rule” but did not explain any further. “And anyway” she then added. “Things work differently in the Quarter”.
He could only agree.
But still, he really didn’t want them to – but again, it didn’t seem like he had a choice.
“Fine” she declared as soon as they were sitting down “So what do we do first? Morse, your notepad?”
He made a noise that was probably some half-protest that she couldn’t just expect him to pull out a notebook but of course that was what he did.
Robbie suppressed a smile; Joan, wearing the same expression, traded a glance with him.
“First of all” Morse apparently decided that he didn’t want to discuss all of this “We have to find someone who can help. I have been at the Quarter a few times when working cases; people are much more open than other assume.”
And from Morse, he thought distractedly, who was usually rather secretive himself, that meant something.
Joan turned her head away and since he could tell it was to hide yet another smile, she most definitely agreed.
“They would have to be, I think” he instead replied. “There are already enough who think they are dangerous, with spells and for what they are and whatnot, and scared people are always the most dangerous ones.”
Morse seemed surprised – he knew that expression – he had just said something that he had not expected of him, so now of course there would be –
“You are right, Robbie.” Just like that. No barbed compliment, no charged comment. “We can’t automatically assume that they would –“
“Neither should we think that they mean us any harm, should we?” Joan asked sharply. “That’s the kind of thinking Dad tried to teach us too, and –“
“Your father is a very –“
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, we get along well these days and you know that, otherwise you’d hear all about it.”
Morse looked away, and Robbie realized there were some things that he had never told him about but then he didn’t have to – why should he, really? He was his boss, not his friend, as he would probably have told him.
But this was not his place, nor he did remind himself, his time.
“It’s best if we deal with this ourselves…” Joan said, and Morse winced again “after all, you can’t just go ahead and arrest people in the Quarter just because you feel like it.”
Robbie managed to not say anything even though he had the feeling that the DCI Morse he knew would have hauled a few people into the station as a matter of course.
“It would give the wrong impression” he instead agreed and Robbie was rather glad that he did not know him as well as he was going to.
“Now” Joan decided, “Like I said I’ve been there before for work and the first thing you have to know” turning to Robbie “Is that you don’t want to enter the shops or houses with the sign of the Darkness painted on them – Morse, can I –“ And she held out her hand.
He hesitated for a moment, then handed over his notebook, and Robbie wasn’t too surprised. When it came to certain… possessions of his, DCI Morse could be very… particular, as Robbie steadfastly called it after having searched for the right word for a while because he did not want to call him a “stubborn sod”, at least not in front of his colleagues at the station.
Still, he had handed his notebook over, and Joan quickly drew a sign that sort of looked like a letter and most likely was – Robbie had never been the best at languages, so he would have no idea – and he studied its carefully to remember it. “So best stay clear. Understood.”
“Apart from that, it’s mostly just doing what stories tell you. Do you ever read to your children?”
“Of course.”
“Then you know your fairy tales, so it shouldn’t be a problem. You know, always be kind to someone who asks you something on the way, when things come in three, pay particular attention to the last one, it’s usually the important bit – “
“Understood.” Lyn especially loved fairy tales, and since Mark was usually happy to do whatever his sister liked, Robbie had read the Brothers Grimm – well, the nicer versions anyway, Val had once told him about the original ones and they had both agreed they might a bit too, well, grim – to them often enough.
“Fine. So we should be –“
“Not quite” Morse announced. “We should take salt as a precaution.”
Joan nodded as if that made sense, and he supposed it did when one knew. “You don’t happen to have any sage or anis or aragula, do you?”
Morse smiled somewhat sheepishly.
“Would have been too much to ask, understood. Well then…”
For all that there was a certain…
Robbie couldn’t help but think that Morse and Joan were a good team. They had clearly come to a mutual understanding that Robbie should not be let out of their sight without using many words – more’s the pity, as Val would have said – and they were now discussing how best to proceed, even if there were some…
“I am used to –“
“Yes, yes, I know, you and Dad are the best team Cowley has ever seen, doesn’t matter in the Quarter, everything’s different there. I’ve been there before, and you haven’t, and that’s how it is.”
Morse – well – for a moment he frowned in just the way that Robbie knew so well, but then he seemed to realize there was nothing he could do and nodded. “If there should be –“
“Yes, yes, I know, run if something happens.” Her face darkened. “Not that that helped before.”
He looked stricken. “Miss Thursday, I –“
“Not your fault”. For some reason, she seemed almost annoyed. “But still –“
“No offense, but can we perhaps go?” Robbie asked because he knew he could not do a thing, much as he wanted to – take Morse aside, ask him a few questions, tell him that the answer was not always to be found at the bottom of a bottle.
But he couldn’t, could he. Even if he had been able to change anything – and that was by no means certain – there were probably rules about this kind of thing, again, Val would have known more, he was sure of it…
But that didn’t change anything about him wanting to be able to.
There were several shops were people came and went, and some that appeared to be empty, but Robbie at least knew that one should never trust such appearances in the Quarter, and instinctively stayed away from those, something that Morse and Joan seemed to agree with – well, Morse wore his usually suspect expression and didn’t say anything, but Joan let him know that it was for the best not to deal with “that kind of thing until it is necessary”.
“It should not be at all” Morse grumbled in that tone he knew so well, and despite everything, he had to smile.
Then, something rather – well – while he was looking at Morse, he saw Joan’s expression – she seemed rather annoyed – bunt then she looked at Robbie, frowned, glanced at Morse, seemed to realize that he had not meant it and actually smiled slightly.
Pity Morse had not seen, but – no, Robbie told himself, all of this was complicated enough as it was.
“Now with just being sent somewhere one doesn’t belong… I have honestly never heard about it before.”
“Most experts would agree that it’s not possible” Morse said suddenly. “That’s why I don’t read those kinds of books…”
“According to Dad, you only ever read depressing long stuff anyway” Joan said lightly.
“Thomas Hardy is –“
“I said nothing about Hardy, and yet you know exactly what I meant” she said as if she had just proven a point.
Morse fell silent when Joan clearly waited for an answer so he said, “The kiddies don’t like sad endings. Lyn always makes up her own if the story doesn’t end like she wants, and Mark told me the happy ending is the point.”
Joan laughed. “Sounds like me and Sam. Have to agree though – what’s the point if there’s no happy ending?”
Robbie didn’t much care for the face Morse made at that – resigned, as if he had already decided how this was going to end. And thinking how –
But again, he had to get home. He couldn’t just –
“There are some who say that great sorcerers like Merlin could make time go backwards if they so chose…” Morse mused in that way that Robbie knew so very well. “If so, this might be an explanation…”
“It’s not like he went backwards, though. He just showed up here...”
“Did she say anything?” Morse then asked. “Anything that might explain this at all?”
“She just said…” he hesitated. He couldn’t very well… “She let me know that she had done this before. And then everything went black. When I woke up, I was here.”
“So it’s probably not some elaborate ritual of some kind but just a spell.”
“And you would know about those because –“
“I am not saying I do, I just read a lot” he shrugged. “But you knew that.”
It was probably said to stop another comment of Joan’s, but it was more than he had ever told Robbie about himself voluntarily.
“Oh yes, Dad said you barely do anything else.” Was there something – but no, she was smiling.
“Hardly.”
“Oh yes, your music, almost forgot –“
“Thank you for helping me anyway” Robbie said because it seemed the best thing to do.
“There was nothing else I could do.”
Joan glanced at Morfs again at that.
Robbie was starting to feel that this was going to be a very long day.
There was some discussion whether they should identify themselves as policeman and a social worker – Robbie rather feared that someone might notice that his badge had been issued several years from now, and anyway, people like those who lived in the Quarter – those who had done nothing wrong but still had to deal with all kinds of prejudices – Val would have an opinion about that, she always made sure that on certain days of the year there was some form of protection in the house – the point was, there were probably many who would not be happy to see the police walk up to them and ask questions, and everyone knew the stories – the history – that there had been a time when it had been deemed better that those who were like – the point was, children had been taken from their parents and other –
Yes, it was probably not the best idea to say out loud that they were the police and were investigating one of their own being – attacked was the word, he supposed.
So Robbie said, “I should probably speak to them. After all, I am…” he hesitated. “I need to know how to get back.”
“It might be dangerous –“ Morse said in a display Robbie would have been shocked at if this had been the time he was used to, but Joan shook her head, understanding in her eyes.
“Robbie is right. He’s the one who can best explain what he needs.”
Morse still looked unhappy, but that, he was all too used to.
And so, they really had no better plan than to try and talk to people.
When they entered the first shop a bell rang out and for some reason, he hadn’t expected such a familiar sound.
A woman hurried to meet them – her eyes were emerald green, and he didn’t mean in the way he was used to – no – they were completely green; he nodded at her and said, “Hello, Miss” hoping that it would be an appropriate greeting, and so it seemed to be, for she smiled.
“What can I do for two police officers and last but definitely not least a social worker?” she asked and it took him a moment to realize they had not yet introduced themselves nor shown their badges, as agreed.
Joan curtsied. Robbie quickly decided that it would be best to bow in this case, while Morse looked on because of course he would – Robbie was one of the few who knew that this was not because he was being impolite, but rather because he had never seen the point when there were more important things to deal with – he was probably already turning everything he saw around in that bight brain of his.
“Well, at least two of you have manners.”
“I like to know what to think of someone before bowing to them” Morse host back then looked about as shocked as Robbie felt. Now, from his DCI – he would have expected this, but –
“Do not worry” she said simply, “No one can tell a lie in this shop, and I have to say, few think as clearly when it comes to old customs, Sergeant.”
It was apparently meant as a compliment.
“He’s always like that” Joan then said lightly and the shop owner glanced from her to Morse as if…
Robbie told himself to concentrate on the problem at hand again. “I –“ he began, then stopped, Behan again. “Something rather unusual happened to me.”
She looked at him and frowned. “I can tell… you don’t – belong here, do you?”
He shook his head because it was the best explanation anyone could give – well, anyone who didn’t know about things like this.
“I – there is something –“ she tilted her head to the side. “It’s rather complicated… because… I know what I just said but at the same time you are around – just –“
Somehow, he guessed what she wanted to say and hastened to explain, “I – as far as I know, at this time, I’m still living with my parents up north. And younger. I –“
“Ah” she nodded as if it made sense. “That explains it.”
He was glad that at least one person seemed to think so.
And so, he explained – about – Baba Yaga and how he had no idea how to fix this.
She appeared taken aback.
“That’s… well, I am sorry for what happened to you, but it’s not exactly something I know a lot about” she said apologetically, and he remerged what she had said.
“Can you tell us who would?” Joan asked.
“Well, there are always… but no” she shook her head. “Never a good idea to go to those – well – let’s first try to do it yourselves. You might not think so, but many of those you would consider monsters are much more human than humans.”
At this point, he just accepted that kind of thing. One thing was for certain, he would never again be surprised by anything that happened to him again. A dragon could show up and the superintendent could expect Robbie to slay them and he would just shrug and move on.
“Where can I find Baba Yaga, then?” he asked. “It’s –“
“I know, believe me” she said, and for some reason he had the feeling that she did indeed know. “But it’s not so easy in the Quarter as just asking for an address. There are those who just show up when they are needed, or when they have to, or when they feel like it. There are those who would not even come when it was utterly necessary. And there ae those who would call normal. But then her house moves around at will…”
He nodded because he was starting to get a headache. “She – for what it’s worth, right before all this happened, she told me that I… was going to see what – someone else saw when they came to speak to her.”
“Could you be more specific?”
Of course he could have been, but – that man, that man of his age standing next to him, who still believed that things might turn out well, who had not yet been beaten down by the world, become jaded (he knew that there were many who would have disagreed with him when it came to DCI Morse, but now he had learned that he had been right all along - ) – how could he explain what would –
“I don’t think so” he said slowly. “There are – I won’t –“ he broke off.
“But we need to –“ Morse began, but the shop owner cut him off.
“No, we have to trust – Robbie here. If this is what he feels… magic and nature and everything in between are much more intertwined than hu – people would believe. I respect your choice”: And she bowed to him again in what he assumed was a symbolic gesture of some kind – he had no idea if he should answer, but she didn’t seem to expect it, so he did nothing.
Somehow, the – he could not called her a witness, not really, so he chose expert – seemed to have gained more respect for him, but why, he couldn’t say. “Would you please follow me into the backroom, sir? Not you two” she added, turning to Morse and Joan, who seemed ready to try and disobey, but good luck with the withering glance she bestowed on them. “You could use the time, you know – to talk.”
They both looked confused and she shook her head as she led the way. “Humans… they make everything so complicated, no offense. Just looking at the two of them, it is easy to tell that they could be happy if they would just talk, and – how do you say it – get over themselves… wouldn’t you say?”
Robbie did have an opinion on that, but he also didn’t want to speak ill of DCI Morse, no matter which version, and when it came to Mrs. Strange…
“Ah, I see”. She nodded. “Like I said, I respect your choice. Now, please, tell me everything from the beginning.”
And so he did.
She clicked her tongue when he was finished. “So you weren’t the target.”
“I –“
“No offense, but as you said, that Chief Inspector… he must have figured something out, something that made him a threat, and then you came along and tried to help him – she sent you away –“
“Baba Yaga –“
“It’s a possibility. But we can’t discount that there might be something else going on. One can never say with magic.”
He supposed it would have been too easy.
“We have to send you back, of course.”
He tried not to let show what he was thinking – and failed, naturally.
“I’m sorry, that’s not – of course I would have helped in any case – I didn’t mean to sound so…”
“it’s…” he tried to tell her that it was fine, he really did, but couldn’t, and she smiled gently at him as she nodded.
“Would you allow me to perform a spell? Just to make sure there won’t be any… repercussions due to what happened to you…”
“Of course” he said because considering she had an actual shop in the Quarter, she had to be one of the good ones – magic uses and creatures tended to throw out whoever wasn’t.
“Hold out your hand.”
He did and she grabbed his wrist.
He would never be able to adequately explain what happened then, not even when he was older and wiser and had seen his fair share of cases involving magic.
But images, or memories, or maybe just impression, flashed across his mind, most prominently Val and the kiddies, of course, but Morse as well, and his parents and then the moment he had met the woman who had sent him there and –
She let her hand fall and it all stopped. “Nothing” she said, her voice sounding rather tight. “And I am really sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Always the decent ones” she muttered, then shook her head. “I’m afraid when it comes to things like this… only the one who did this to you can outdo it without risking anything going wrong. If you are sure it was Baba Yaga…”
“Ch – Sergeant Morse thinks so.”
“And I am sure he is an expert” she said, and not even Robbie could have missed that sarcastic undertone.
He bristled. “When it comes to legends and literature and whatnot, he is.”
She immediately apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that. There are just some things that those without magic will never fully grasp.”
He could understand that, then for a moment actually imagined DCI Morse with magic, and decided that it might be for the best that some things didn’t come to pass.
On the other hand, thinking of him and Mrs. –
He had to get home, he couldn’t –
“What should I do, then?” he asked. “If – if you could help me, I mean, please, I have to get home –“
“Yes, yes, of course…” she bit her lip then said, “The problem is the wording.”
“The wording?”
“You were sent here – what did she say exactly, again?”
That was easy enough to answer. He didn’t think he would ever forget. “Well then – I’ll just have to do the exact same thing I did to our dear chief inspector –“ he quoted.
“That’s what bothers me” she told him. “Because, whatever is going on here, it has to do with that Chief Inspector of yours – or rather, the young man who will become your chief inspector.”
And who at the moment had no idea he would ever get so far, or that he would choose Robbie as his bagman.
“Do you know anything – has he ever spoken about these times with you?”
Robbie shook his head. Up until now, he could have sworn that Morse just one day spontaneously appeared as the elderly curmudgeon he liked to think he knew well, but here he was – young, unsure, confused, like any of them, really.
“Then we can’t say for sure why it’s important, why any of it is important, but nonetheless… you should stay close to these two.”
“These two?”
She shook her head. “I meant Sergeant Morse. No idea why I said that.”
Yes, it would already be difficult enough to convince Morse that he ought to stay with him.
“Do you have any idea how long this will take, ma’am?” he asked because he couldn’t help it.
She shook her head, looking apologetic. “No. Magic is unpredictable in that regard.”
And in every single other one, he could have answered but didn’t.
She seemed to guess because she looked amused for a moment before recalling that she probably shouldn’t be – another moment in which he was starkly reminded of the DCI he had left behind – or was that forward? It was better than thinking of Val and the kiddies, really.
“I will gather some information” she promised him. “This is – unusual.” He waited for a punch line that never came, but she was just telling him the truth, and he would have to be content with that.
“Thank you.”
“I know it’s not easy, but I will have to ask you to be patient. And please stay away –“
“From the shops with the sign of Darkness painted on them”.
She nodded, obviously pleased that he knew that much.
When they came out, Morse and Joan were almost standing at opposite sides of the store, and Robbie frowned. If it had been him, he would most certainly have used the time to talk to her, but then again, this was Morse…
He was spared from having to explain anything by the shop owner, whose name he belatedly realized he still didn’t know. “Alright, we talked – I’ll ask around, Robbie here just needs a place to stay” she said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Joan glanced at Morse and, to Robbie’s surprise, he immediately offered to have him stay at his place as if it was nothing.
That seemed to at least – “Imagine that, Morse, you’ll actually have to buy food” Joan said pointedly.
Perhaps not.
“I do have some –“
“Tell me Robbie didn’t buy them.”
Morse fell silent.
Some things really never changed, even though they bloody should, Robbie thought.
Joan bid them goodbye soon after, telling them she had something to do, and slipped away.
Well, she must have quite a few clients, if social services worked anything like the ones he remembered…
She never saw Morse watch her walk away, and Robbie bit his lip. He would have loved to say something – and he felt certain that Val would have – but there was no point. He knew what was going to happen, and how it all would end, and –
Robbie had never been the best at keeping quiet when he wanted to help, something that, as his old mum had told him on more than one occasion, would probably mean he’d never make it to DI, but if that meant he got to help folks, so be it.
Plus, he had a reason to mention Joan that had nothing to do with…
And so, after they had sat down with drinks at Morse’s place (he had had thought about protesting, but he knew there were some fights he could not win) he said, “Thank God we met Joan. Wouldn’t have wanted to just barge into the Quarter without help.”
Morse threw him a glance that plainly said he would have done exactly that, but then, he supposed people couldn’t change all that much.
However, he was proven wrong when it came to what he was thinking of when he said, “Miss Thursday has always had strong opinions as to the right way of doing things.”
He really didn’t know what to say to that so ventured, “I still don’t quite understand why it’s not supposed to be Baba Yaga, though.”
“The ways of the Quarter are different from ours” Morse too said and shrugged. “They also prefer to deal with problems on their own, rather than call the police.”
That hadn’t changed much, although it had and probably never would stop Morse from going there when he needed to learn about a case, as Robbie very well knew.
“Probably should have stayed away” he admitted since it seemed the right thing to do. “But the case…”
“I know the feeling.”
Yes, I know, you’re the one who taught me that in the first place. There were many who claimed that Robbie wasn’t earning anything from Morse, naturally, but he knew much better.
“And then – well – there were some – “ Robbie sighed and steeled himself to lie to the man yet again. “People were affected by – it was clearly magic, it could be no other explanation. So I –“
“Just did what you considered the best.”
“Exactly.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary” Morse said, “Whether it works out or not.”
He nodded, and Morse seemed to relax – well, as much as he ever did, really.
Against his better judgement, Robbie found himself wondering what it would look like if this Morse settled down with someone, for example –
No, no, for the hundredth he was not going to go there.
It of course made him think of –
“I can just imagine what Val will say when I tell her” he shook his head – of course he suddenly realized Val was already around as well, just – oh God – he was getting a headache –
“What I know from my colleagues, most spouses of policemen are very tolerant” Morse said, perhaps a bit testily, but that, he was more than used to.
“They have to be” Robbie agreed because that was a lesson him and his Val had learned early on, and really, she had always supported him. He liked to think he’d done so as well when it came to her, but was painfully aware there had been moments when he should have been there –
He looked at Morse, but he was once more taking a sip of his drink (and, of course, almost emptying it).
“But then, I suppose it’s all about luck, anyway. Meeting the right person at the right time –“
Morse laughed in the way he remembered very well – rather harsh and sarcastic – and most definitely too old for someone Robbie’s own age.
“In my experience, that’s much more difficult than you make it sound. And when you try…” he put his glass down and reached for the bottle and Robbie realized he had to take drastic measures if he wanted to make any difference at all, if only for tonight.
“Thanks, nothing for me.”
Morse blinked at him because they both knew he had very much not been about to offer Robbie a drink – as a matter of fact, he thought the first and only time he had ever paid for his pint so far had been on the double occasion of him having forgotten Robbie’s birthday (of course, and as every year) and him accidentally solving a case by making a comment that had made Morse realize –
But that was neither here nor there, now.
The important part was that he actually put the bottle away, albeit reluctantly
Robbie took a deep breath. At least they had a lead, or something like it; and maybe, just maybe, he would be home much sooner than he feared anyway, and then he could put all of this behind him…
Only that he already had a feeling that he wouldn’t succeed. It was one thing to have known – well, of course he had known that Morse had been young once. But to see him like this, all alone in the world, when he maybe just needed a bit of a nudge…
And he could hardly do anything. After all –
But he would not be drinking anymore tonight at least, it seemed, and for that, Robbie was grateful.
Trying to think of something he came up with, “Do you have any music?”
Morse blinked at him. “Music?”
Robbie nodded bravely. “Yeah. Am quite fond of opera, myself. Do you happen to have any Verdi?”
He knew what Morse of old – no, Morse as old – would have said, of course – that anyone could name Verdi and expect people to think they were vell-versed in music – but this version was clearly pleased that someone shared his hobby and got up immediately.
Of course he would put on something he liked, but that was only to be expected.
By now, even Robbie had come to recognize a few tunes, and he was rather sure this was LA Traviata, or whatever it was called – he’d asked Val once, and she’d told him a story about a courtesan and tuberculosis and just all around very depressing stuff that he felt Morse probably shouldn’t subject himself to, but there was nothing he could do about that, and – he looked almost childishly pleased that someone had actually asked to listen to his LPs with him.
Robbie had often wondered whether Morse was lonely, but he had never realized for how long he had been.
Somehow, he found himself thinking of Joan again, Mrs. Strange to be, and how her smile had seemed so much more genuine when she’d seen Morse than when she had attended those functions at her husband’s side…
No, no, he couldn’t.
But, he told himself, there was no reason to think he would even see her again. They would return to the Quarter tomorrow, and they would fix this, and then he would be back to where he belonged…
Although why he should feel even the slightest bit sorry about it, he couldn’t say.
Morse, Robbie had always thought, although of course only Val knew, was not quite as big a misanthrope as he pretended to be – Robbie had watched him help too many people to think so – and he was once again reminded of that as – well –
It would probably be too much to say that he became affable, but as the evening went on, Morse more and more warmed up to him – not unlike what was going to happen in almost two decades when they met properly – and even became totative – or at least talkative for him.
And in turn, Robbie learned more than he could ever have imagined, especially since he had back in his time thought DCI Morse was talking nonsense.
“Giv awa, man” he exclaimed eventually, “A tiger in Oxford?”
Morse blinked at him and he realized but before he could explain, he chuckled – he actually chuckled – and replied, “I was somewhat surprised myself. DI Thursday and I had the theory that it might have been the Leopard Men –“
Wait a minute, DI –
“Related to Joan?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Morse blinked then said, “He’s her father.”
Ah. That made everything a little bit more complicated, even if it didn’t have to be.
Also explained him not wanting to include her, but good luck with that – Robbie had grown up around stubborn women, his Val was far from a shy flower, and Lyn already took very much like her mother – he wouldn’t have it any other way – so he could easily guess that Joan would not be gainsaid.
Much, he though guiltily, like Mrs. Strange and one of those functions her husband would always complain loudly enough about that the whole station knew.
But right now, he had to focus on getting home. Although, perhaps – “Good governor?” he inquired. “Mine can be a bit of a stubborn sod.”
Morse clearly struggled not to smile, then replied, “The best.”
That was… unexpected, and it made him rather worried, because it had to mean that things had ended – would end – rather badly. Whenever he and Morse… well, he was certain he would always remember him, and fondly at that, the other bloody sots at the station be damned.
Then again, if he was the father of the woman he – well – it was only to be expected that he had a soft spot for him, too. Not that, as Val would have said, that needed to be case, just look at Robbie...
Morse changed the subject then, of course he did, but this time, Robbie could easily sympathize.
The rest of the evening passed comfortably, but Robbie had always thought that Morse would be good company if he were not so morose, and this one still tried his best.
He also clearly held back when it came to drink since Robbie had made that comment, and that could only be a good thing.
Maybe this truly was all this younger Morse needed – someone to keep him company – but of course Robbie would leave soon, so it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.
But at least he could look after him for one more night.
They had barely gotten up the next morning – as a matter of fact, Robbie was thinking about making breakfast and hinting strongly that Morse should have something to eat as well, not that he was hopefuls that he would succeed – when the doorbell rang.
Morse blinked as if he had forgotten he even had one of those, so Robbie went to open it and was only mildly surprised to find Joan. “Hello Robbie. I asked around – “ and she swept past him.
“But didn’t –“
“Oh, yes, I know we are supposed to wait and everything, but it can’t harm to have a second opinion, can it?”
He glanced at Morse – Morse, who was busy swallowing his toast, which she answered with another blinding smile (quite frankly if his Val hadn’t been the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on, even Robbie might have been in some danger) – then decided to answer, “I suppose not. Thank you.”
“Seems like this kind of thing is not unheard of.”
“IT isn’t?” Now, he knew one had to expect everything when it came to magic, but still…
“Well” she hesitated. “Not exactly. But there are all kinds of stories about people waking up in different time periods –“
“Rip Van Winkle” Morse said because of course he would. Even Robbie knew that one.
“Yes. they mentioned that, even if it is clearly not the case here, since Robbie was just sent to a different time… And it seems that something like this takes a lot of power, more than most would have.”
“Perhaps it has to do with the case I was working on” he said. As long as he was careful… “That I simply stepped on the wrong toes.”
“That’s always possible, some of them can get very angry…”
“That’s not that different from humans” Morse said, and he couldn’t help but think that while he was right, it was rather depressing that this should be his first reaction even when he was still Robbie’s age.
Joan, though, only laughed. “Guess not. But still. It can’t be that difficult to find someone who is powerful enough and has every reason to not want the case solved…”
“It’s a case that isn’t even happening at the moment” Morse argued. “We can hardly expect to do so now –“
“Dad would say it’s exactly the kind of thing you like” she shot back and even though he had never met DI Thursday, Robbie couldn’t help but agree – yes, it sounded like Morse’s thing.
He shrugged, looking frustrated, and Robbie wondered if this was because he had simply been forced to solve this kind of case because no one else had been able to or because he was tired of not getting the recognition he deserved – as a matter of fact, he’d always thought that a man was clever as Morse should be more than a DCI, but it was not his place to say, and he would have hardly made a difference even if he had – or because of something else –
“Anyway, I do have to check up on a family in the Quarter anyway, so I’ll meet you there in half an hour?” And without waiting for an answer, she left, although she did look back at Morse –
No, he wasn’t going to put his nose where its didn’t belong, as his mum would say –
Oh God, he suddenly realized, his grandparents were still alive at the moment.
And he couldn’t even go see them.
“Robbie? Are you –“ Morse hesitated but of course he would.
“Just thought of my family” he told him honestly because this was Morse and he would not stop until he learned what was going on.
But to his surprise, there were no more questions, instead he nodded and looked –
Well –
As if he could understand very well.
“I have a brother” Robbie then told him.
Only to be shocked once more.
“I have a sister.”
He blinked – he didn’t think Morse had ever talked to him about his family, ever, except for that one terrible moment where he had admitted he had thought about killing himself as a boy –
“She’s my half-sister, actually.”
Robbie shrugged – he’d seen enough to know that things like that didn’t have to matter. “Still blood, though”.
“Still blood” Morse replied with a half-smile. “I don’t see her often, though.”
“Job can be demanding” he replied. “That’s why I got me Val –“ he broke off when he remembered that Morse would never have this.
He, however, took it in stride. “A partner – when you find one – yes, they make things… better.”
But again, there was already resignation there, as if he didn’t expect anyone to stay.
“Ay” he agreed quickly before he could make the mistake of showing his pity, which he was absolutely sure Morse wouldn’t like, no matter the year. “Don’t know where I would be without Val and the kiddies…” he broke off when he suddenly remembered yet again that he might never see –
“It must be difficult” Morse said softly, his eyes full of a compassion that Robbie somehow always knew as there, even if no one else seemed to believe so. “But we will do our best.”
Never one to make promises he couldn’t keep, not even now. He hid a smile.
“Yes. I can’t thank” he hesitated for a moment, but Morse would have noticed of he had not – “You or Joan enough.”
“Miss Thursday is very capable.”
And that was apparently all he had to say about that.
Robbie really really wanted to ask some more question but knew that it would probably just lead to Morse clamming up as he was wont to do so he said, “Thank you both, anyway. NO idea what I would have done on me own.”
Morse nodded at him, then supplied, “We have to help where we can.”
“We should” he agreed.
Wasn’t that why they had gone to the police in the first place?
“Suppose usually things are abet easier to figure out…”
“Not always, not when it comes to the Quarter” Morse reminded him and Robbie swore to himself then and there that he would make more of an effort to go there once he came home. It couldn’t be that an entire part of the population wouldn’t call the police just because they felt they didn’t understand them, our didn’t take them seriously, or just didn’t want to be involved.
Really, if they had paid more attention to the Quarter, they might not be in this –
After all, if Morse hadn’t been the only one who felt he should go there –
But he could think about that later, when everything had turned out well.
He had to think it would, otherwise –
Right now, there was nothing he could do but hope that all of this would soon be behind him… and behind Morse Joan, he suddenly thought.
After all, he knew exactly what was coming…
Soon enough, they went to meet Joan. On the way Robbie, for lack of anything else, said, “The Quarter’s always been… different.”
“Doesn’t mean they don’t deserve police protection” Morse said automatically, as if he’d had that talk several times, and if Robbie’s own experience was anything to go by, he had.
He’d never been one to keep his mouth shut either, which was probably why he and Morse got along… or perhaps it was just that he was the only one who, despite this quality, did not quarrel with Morse, not really… of course he knew his governor and his… eccentricities, but really, all in all they’d always rubbed along well, right from the beginning…
He nodded, and Morse seemed surprised – not for the first time since they had met again – or should that be the first time?
He was rather sure that if he didn’t figure this out soon, he was going to have a stroke.
“Some of them don’t need it, though” he then said because it was true.
Something like a smile crossed Morse’s face yet again and he wondered when exactly his eyes had stopped lighting up when that happened.
He could take a guess, but it would have felt like an invasion of privacy.
“I am starting to see why the hatstand rule was ever put into place” Joan’s voice rang dryly out behind them. “You really don’t talk about anything else if there isn’t one, do you?”
But when Robbie turned his head to apologize, she was laughing in a way he doubted Mrs. Strange did when something didn’t turn out the way she wanted.
He really should stop with the comparisons, he knew that. And besides – “Sorry, the – “
“The hatstand rule” Joan declared with all the gravity of the Pope blessing a sinner “means that the second my father – DI Thursday – steps over the threshold and hangs up his hat, he leaves work behind. Doesn’t matter of something bad happened, or if we should perhaps be careful – no – he simply won’t tell us a thing.”
“DI Thursday –“ Morse began, clearly propelled by the same impulse that had led Robbie to defend Morse often enough.
“Yes, yes, I know” she shook her head, clearly frustrated. “But he can’t keep us away from the world forever.”
And this was the woman who, as far as the station gossip went, only cared for the next party to attend, especially if there were higher-ups to meet.
“He’s –“
“Morse, there Is not a single thing you could tell me that would make me abandon you two now.”
She threw Robbie a glance, but eh simply shrugged his shoulders to let her know that he wasn’t even going to try and argue. He knew when it was hopeless – he hadn’t been married happily for many years (despite his age, as his colleagues like to tease him) for nothing.
It seemed that Morse wasn’t going to argue either, for once. He really wished he could have taken that with him, but –
First of all, he had to find a way to get back. That was what he should be worried about, not Morse or Joan or –
Only that he could not very well not worry about those two, since they did indeed insist on seeing this through “to the end” as Morse said while looking thoughtful even though he did not bother to explain why because of course he did not.
And then they were on their way.
The Quarter, Robbie had always thought, could be beautiful under the right circumstances – or rather, he had known that it was beautiful to many, and that there were some things he just didn’t understand; but now that it was morning, with the promise of a fresh start that such mornings always brought, the sunlight bouncing from window to window, people milling about –
Somehow, it felt more alive than many another street than he had seen, much as he had always loved Oxford ever since they had moved here for the kiddies.
It was, he suddenly found himself thinking, and to be honest, not for the first time, a pity that the parts of the city should be so separated, and not used to working together in such cases. Yes, the inhabitants in the Quarter of Oxford – as in most places – had eventually come to accept that the police might venture there if something was wrong, and that humans could come and go to buy things and do other… well… the point was, they were not completely apart, but neither did most consider the Quartr a true part of Oxford, and it really was a shame.
Maybe if there was someone – maybe if a few people began –
But he knew there wouldn’t be, not now and not later, not even in his time.
It was a pity.
Morse frowned. “What are you thinking about?”
What a true Morse kind of question this was.
“We really should have better relations with the Quarter, or whatever you want to call it” Robbie answered truthfully.
“I agree” Joan said immediately. “You wouldn’t believe the troubles we’ve had, getting some people to accept help, or anything, really –“
“Some people know what to do, or they don’t want help” Morse replied and Robbie had the feeling they were talking about something else than his problem; for a moment, he felt angry, then he told himself that of course they had their own lives and could not be expected to drop everything for someone they didn’t know. Good God – he wouldn’t even have it expected of the Morse he did know, since he had only ever gotten glimpses of him even tolerating his presence; so why should it be different now?
“That doesn’t mean I am giving up” he then told Robbie, shocking him once more – it was one thing to know it, it was another to actually hear him say it – and he quickly looked away lest Morse think he was angry at him for offering comfort when the opposite was true.
And then –
“I mean it.”
Oh God, he was actually still trying to comfort him.
“I know” he forced out. “It’s just…”
“I could ask some of my older colleagues” Joan offered. “The Quarter can’t be completely cut off from all help, and since we know they don’t go to the police, they might prefer other channels…”
He remember – social services – and nodded gratefully at her.
“I –“
“Morse, we all know how this ends, and Robbie needs to get home.”
While he did agree with her, he certainly would not have said it to Morse’s face like that.
Morse looked form her to Robbie to back again, then nodded and seemed to accept the inevitable.
Before they entered anywhere, Joan quizzed him as to his knowledge when it came to certain things, but he could assure her that he knew how to greet most creatures he encountered, simply because he had never seen the reason not to introduce himself and learn the name of whoever he was talking to in turn, as opposed to DCI Morse.
“I am sure Sergeant Lewis –“
“It will be much easier if we can split up… Cover more ground, so to speak. And you have your badge, so they have to listen to you, at least.”
Morse looked like he wanted to protest yet again, but she was right – it would go much faster (and he couldn’t forget that Morse and Joan had work too – he was even somewhat curious and would actually have liked to see him as a young copper, like Robbie was now, but he couldn’t risk going with him, apart from Morse most likely not wanting him to).
And so, they split up with the promise of meeting again at the entrance of the Quarter in an hour, Robbie repeating Joan’s instructions and the information about the Sign of Darkness for good measure.
This time, at least, he didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to come find him. Still, it was somewhat strange to walk through an Oxford he only remembered in his time, be it the magical part or not.
Well, he would say that – it was nice not hear cars constantly, but then, there were much fewer shops too, he had noticed that in the human part of town as well – Val would have been annoyed how far she had to go just to get some bread; and despite what some folks would tell you about the good old times, Robbie really liked that in the Oxford he was used to, people did not let their children run around alone anymore.
Speaking of –
A boy around their son’s age ran into his legs, and he swallowed as he looked down into his grinning face.
What if he – what if there wasn’t – what if there should –
“Owain! You apologize _”
“It’s alright, Ma’am” he said gently, smiling at the boy rather than crying, which was a feat in itself.
The woman began to smile back, then frowned before apologizing, “I’m sorry, it’s just, you’re…”
“Human” he affirmed, “But I have a good reason to be here.”
She looked him up and down, then nodded again.
Apparently this was all she had needed to think he meant well.
Some things about the Quarter were easier than he could ever have assumed.
Bolstered by this, he asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, but I was wondering…” he hesitated.
“Yes?” she asked when he didn’t know how to continue.
“I – I know how it sounds, But I was wondering if there are specialists for people who’ve got –“ he searched for words then remembered another one of Val’s favourite novels “who’ve got unstuck in time?”
She looked at him, blinked, then said slowly, “So that’s what it is…”
He dared not ask what it was.
“It… well… this could be difficult –“
“Yes, I know, and I’m supposed to wait it’s just that I – that I can’t. I’ve tried to be patient, but –“ he looked back down at the boy and she realized.
“You have children?”
“Two. A girl and a boy. And my wife – I – I need to get back –“
She nodded again; the little boy had huddled close to her as if he, too, understood that something terrible had happened.
“Yes” she said quietly, “Of course you do”. After a moment’s pause she said, “You should go to the Temple. Prayers have always helped me, when I needed it the most.”
Robbie couldn’t say that he was a very religious man. Even back when he had lived with his parents and his brother, church going had been more of a suggestion than anything, and he’d never really been happy with the whole idea that some being controlled what was going on on earth when the3re were so many bad things happening to good people, as he saw almost daily.
But it probably couldn’t hurt.
And so, he thanked her and followed the street she had indicated.
The Temple was a small building in a cul-de-sac that didn’t look anything like a big cathedral, which he had for some reason expected.
But he supposed the rules couldn’t be that different – after all, showing respect was usually the best way to go, even if DCI Morse would not have agreed – and so he quietly entered and looked around, careful not to disturb anyone.
There were a few – people, he decided, he certainly could call them that – about, most of them praying; there were pictures and something that must be the altar – and he made his way there slowly, wondering what exactly he should be praying for.
Or how even, he suddenly realized. He had never really wondered how creatures worshipped, and perhaps he ought to have being a policeman and all –
“Look” he began, looking at one of the smaller altars tucked into the side of the church – “I don’t know what to do or say. I can only – hope” he had almost said pray but that would have been confusing, wouldn’t it, and he had the impression that whoever was responsible for what he was going through would probably be able to tell that he had never really believed in any of this anyway, otherwise they would not have been a god…
Or, in his case, he was fated to learn, rather more than that.
He would never be able to explain how he knew, but he felt that someone was standing behind him even though there had no noise, no movement, not even a whisper to make him think someone had come –
And then –
He turned around and there were three old women standing there. Well – he said old, but really, they looked even worse than that – ancient was what came to mind, but they would probably not like that –
The one to the left stared at him while she was – she was –
No, he wasn’t imagining it – she was spinning a thread. Last time he had seen that, he and Val had taken the kiddies to a museum. “Robert Lewis” she stated even though he had certainly not introduced himself, but he was not going to be shocked at that of all things.
He nodded because it seemed the right thing to do then said, even though he had no idea whether they’d like it, “Ma’am – Ma’am – Ma –“
“We know who we are” interrupted him the middle one.
That was the least surprising thing he had heard in days – naturally they knew him. Why should they not?
“You are not where you are supposed to be.”
“All due respect, I’m not when I am supposed to be” he said because he believed he’d heard something about being exact when it came to such things, or at least be careful what one said in fairy tales. That might not have been the same thing, but…
The one in the middle – chuckled? He couldn’t say. It sounded like dry leaves, and like ocean waves, and something else, something he might have heard a long time ago in his dreams…
Only later when he remembered these moments would he realize that, while he had been very sure who was speaking to him at the time, he could not really say that he had seen any of their mouths move –
But that did not matter, not when it happened and not when he remembered.
And so, he simply waited for this one to –
“There is a time and a place for everything and everyone, but what they do with it is their own choice.”
“I never –“
“You, Robert Lewis, are here because you were doing your duty.” It seemed that mattered. “And that is why you and Detective Inspector Morse are so well matched.”
That was.. the kind of thing Val would have laughed about, but still understood, just like Robbie.
He nodded and then replied because when was he supposed to be honest if not now, “I just wish he could have been happy, that is all – then and – now and – ” he had no idea how to finish that sentence, so he stopped talking.
“You speak the truth” the one with the scissors said, and Robbie suddenly had the feeling that if he had not, things could have gone very badly for him. But the thought of lying had never crossed his mind – probably because considering what had happened to him, he really could not imagine what he could possibly invent that would sound stranger than the truth.
He nodded.
“And that has become rare these days.”
Didn’t he know it. His work at vice had taught him that well enough – didn’t know how often he’d had to drag one pimp or another in before he finally got to the truth.
But why it should matter now…
“I am looking for someone” he then said “Baba Yaga sent me here, and I –“
“We know”.
Well, if they were – he supposed they ought to know.
So he was silent, waiting –
“The truth you seek may be weirder than that.”
He waited, but none of them added anything else.
“Could you please tell me where to find her?”
He was begging, but he didn’t care – he could hardly find her if there was not –
“Stories exist for a reason. She is exactly where she ought to be.”
That – fine – it was nice to know that, he supposed, but –
“Follow them. Follow the stories. Like so many have done before.”
Follow the stories…
Well, if there was someone who would know all about that, it would be Morse, so it was probably best to ask him for help yet again, even though Robbie had the feeling that he should not continue to do so, not when he had his own life to live, and it would be years before they met –
And yet, he felt that it would be useless to say any of this, and that his time with them was over, and so he nodded.
He all but fled back to the store – somehow, he had to tell someone who would understand.
The shop owner did immediately.
She stared at him. “You got visited by the Morai?”
“The Mo –“ He frowned, some half-remembered stuff from his and Val’s holiday in Greece coming back to him. “I think so” he then said hesitatingly. “There were three of them, and one of them had scissors…”
“She didn’t try and –“
“No, no cutting” he said quickly.
“Wasn’t expecting it” she said with a self-assuredness that Robbie wouldn’t have brought himself to feel no matter how hard he tried, “They wouldn’t, not when it’s not your time…”
He supposed it was the best news he had heard in a while.
“Do you have any idea what they could’ve meant with the truth you seek might be weirder?” he asked because he might as well, but she shook her head.
“No, sorry. What these three mean… I suppose you know the story how this other oracle promised a general victory in battle only they worded it in a way that it could mean both victory and death?”
He remembered something like that and nodded.
“Well… so when she told you that… it might mean you are doing exactly what you ought to be doing, and yet it might mean something else entirely. I’m sorry but I can’t be more specific.”
Of course not, because no one could, it seemed.
And yet she then had one other thing to tell him. “Has it occurred to you that you might be here for a reason?”
“I am, I am here because –“
“That’s not what I meant – what was done to you is horrible and wrong and dangerous of course, but magic has a way of doing what needs to be done, or maybe just what ought to have been done a long time ago…”
He hoped that what he thought wasn’t showing on his face, but was proven wrong in that when she added, “I know. But like I said before… I am afraid no one could be more specific than that.”
This magic business struck him as rather impractical, when no one knew what to do –
“They told me to follow the stories.”
“That’s normally a good idea” she agreed.
He glanced at his watch and thought it was time he met Joan and Morse again.
As it turned out, he was in for yet another surprise.
He was walking towards their rendezvous point when he saw that Morse and Joan were already there, and –
They make a handsome couple, he thought before he could help himself, even though he had sworn not to –
But then –
The way Joan was smiling at something Morse had said… he had certainly never seen that expression on Mrs. Strange’s face (although he reminded himself, as Val would have done, that he had not seen her often) and Morse…
He didn’t think he had ever seen him smile so genuinely, period.
It was unfair, he thought, it was so utterly unfair.
If it had been possible, he would have stayed back for another moment or two, just to let them have fun, but Joan spotted him and waved him over. “Robbie!”
He stepped up to them. “Hello”.
“Did you find anything?” she asked.
He nodded. “I think so –“
“Good, because no one could tell us a thing. They were all nice enough, didn’t even flinch at Morse’s badge, but other than that…”
“I’m used to iT” Moirés said simply. “I’m no one who can converse easily with others.”
It sounded just enough like a quote that Robbie had heard before, but he couldn’t say for sure.
“That’s not true” Joan then said. “We talk.”
He threw her an undecipherable look, and Robbie wondered what he would have said if they had been alone still – but this was Morse they were talking about, so probably nothing – God knew Robbie had seen him with enough women to be certain of that – and yet –
Didn’t they deserve the chance at least, before…
It was not his place to say, of course it was not.
And so, he quickly summarized what had happened to him (summarized, Morse would have loved to read that in a report of his, he had to remember for when he came back).
“The Morai?” Morse frowned. “They don’t really appear in the myths, but in several plays of –“
“What did they say?” Joan interrupted him, before glancing at him once more and explaining, “And I mean exactly. What I remember from fairy tales, wording can be everything… Sorry, but we have to know what’s going on first.”
Something like a smile crossed Morse’s face as he replied, “That’s what –“
“Don’t you dare compare me to Dad. I will have you know that I am infinitely better looking.”
Morse blushed again and she laughed, dispelling any awkwardness.
Really, it would have been nice to have someone like her around on Morse’s bad days – but of course she was, just not –
No, no, no.
And so he quickly told them everything he could recall.
“The truth you seek might be weirder than that” Morse repeated.
“I don’t know” Joan announced, “To me all this seems weird enough already. I mean, who outside from Star Trek has ever heard of such a thing?”
Morse clearly had no idea what she was talking about, which was no surprise because Robbie was rather sure his older version would not have had one, either. “Star –“
“You really should watch the telly sometime –“
“I don’t see how –“
“Still, they tried to help” Robbie said because for some reason, he was absolutely sure of that. “So if they want that, others have to too, surely?”
They looked at him with something almost like pity, which most people in Robbie’s time would have claimed looked strange on Morse’s face, but he knew better.
“We can’t say that for sure…” Morse then said. “We don’t have much experience, but still…”
Yes, he was most definitely pushing for the police being more active in the Quarter when he returned home.
“Yes. Well. But they still told Robbie to follow the stories, and we already know the famous one when it comes to Baba Yaga.”
“Yes, I just don’t – “ and Morse stopped talking abruptly, staring into the distance.
Joan wanted to ask, but Robbie waved a hand and shook his head. He knew what it looked like when Morse came up with an idea, and this was no exception.
“The story…” he said slowly. “We have to follow the riders.”
“The riders!?” Joan exclaimed before Robbie could. It seemed like his usual job as bagman was taken, at least for the moment.
“Yes, while Vasilisa lives at Baba Yaga’s place, there are three riders she sees regularly, one at dawn, one at dusk, one at noon…”
“Missed noon, and I can’t imagine either of you would be happy to do this when it’s growing dark” Joan said, glancing at her watch. “So where would those riders… ride?”
“As far as I remember, the pass Baba Yaga’s hut –“
“But we don’t know where it is, that’s why Dad always says you leave out several steps –“
“If there is a logical –“
Robbie cleared his throat when it became clear they were not about to stop bickering any time soon. Once again he thought of Val – they’d heard often enough that they constantly bickered. “Yes, well, if I remember, this Baba Yaga lives in the woods, doesn’t she – means we have to get out of the town, most likely.”
Morse frowned at him, then nodded. “It seems to be rather likely, yes. In that case, I think it would be best if we leave tomorrow morning – I’ll call into Cowley station and tell them I am busy with –“
“Dad will be pleased you’re doing police work for once” Joan said lightly. “I’ll come too, of course.”
“Miss –“
“What makes you think you can stop me now?”
He apparently came up with no answer, so Robbie said, “Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing. Of course I want to help.”
That included rather more than Robbie had supposed, since she accompanied him and Morse to the latter’s place yet again – “I’m cooking, someone ought to make a proper meal, you know Mum would want that” – and Morse accepted her wish and mumbled something about “Mrs. Thursday being very kind.”
Good, Robbie thought – he needed more people to be kind to him; but he was becoming more and more aware how sad it was that it had all ended like that, especially because Joan actually managed to make Morse laugh once or twice while puttering about the kitchen.
He was happy though, if only for –
At the same time – again – he knew how it would all end, and that might just make these memories all the sadder for Morse, which meant that Robbie had made it sadder –
He swallowed. That was not something he had wanted, and that he was not at fault did little to make him feel better.
“Robbie? Is something the matter?”
He looked at Morse and nodded, hoping that he would think it was about his family, and he seemed to do so.
And then they were having dinner, and despite his best intentions, he wondered yet again if Morse and Joan had ever stopped and realized that they very much acted like a couple. Working together when it came to Robbie’s case, understanding each other with a few glances, nor cooking together –
No, no, no, how often did he have to tell himself that?
They had just sat down when Joan asked, “How are you?”
Morse frowned and she rolled her eyes.
“Not you, I know better than that… the day I get a real answer to that question from you… I meant Robbie.”
He had the feeling she would again not take no for an answer, so he admitted, “It’s not easy. I keep thinking of Val and the kiddies…” He looked down at the table; he couldn’t even remember what he had been eating, despite watching them prepare it – wait – had he even offered to help –
A hand on his arms startled him out of his thoughts, but that shock was nothing against the one when he realized it was Morse who had reached out – then he glanced at Joan and realized from her expression that she must have given him a signal, like Val would have –
(No)
“I –“ he cleared his throat. “I cannot – I need to go back home, but it doesn’t look that good, does it.”
Morse frowned in that way he did when he didn’t want to lie but thought it would be better for whoever he was talking to – Robbie knew that expression mostly from pretty women they met over the course of their cases – and tried to speak. “I – we don’t know much, but we do have a lead –“
“It’s really true, that you can never say with the Quarter” Joan said instead, which he was thankful for (no, he wasn’t going to compare – no, he was done with that). “And once we figure all of this out, they will have to take you back. That’s how it works, right, Morse? Once you follow the rules?”
“It seems so, yes” he confirmed, which did relax Robbie, if only because he was used to doing what Morse considered best during their cases, and if this was not a mystery to be solved, then what was? “But I can’t be sure…”
Still, it was apparently Morse’s feeling that it should work that way, and again, it helped Robbie because this was Morse they were talking about.
And yet… Robbie suddenly became aware that he was actually eating, had been since he arrived, which was more than he could say of the DCI he worked for. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last seen him have a snack that hadn’t been liquid.
Not that it seemed to be making much of a difference here – he looked like a twig, or at least that was what his mum would have said. If he had found someone to feed him –
“Dad says your hunches are usually better than most copper’s certainties, although he then adds he shouldn’t let it get to your head.”
“I thought the hat stand rule was still in place?”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t hear what they’re saying ” she grinned-
She really was a very handsome young woman – not quite Robbie’s type, that was and continued to be only his Val, but still…
“I don’t –“
“How often have we been over this now? I’m not leaving you until Robbie has made it home safe, and that is that.”
It would have been reassuring if he hadn’t known that she, to0o, had no idea how and when he would actually return (he drew the line at if – he couldn’t start – no – he wouldn’t).
“I can’t force you two to stop your life for me” he tried because certainly –
“We want to.”
Apparently she was talking for Morse now, too, since he simply nodded.
He would have to resign himself to the fact, but really, he couldn’t deny that he was relieved in a way. Because deep down, he was scared – scared that he would end up on a chase and be told at the end that there was nothing that could be done, that he wouldn’t make it home, or rather, that he would have to wait for decades –
How would he even do that? He couldn’t risk meeting himself or Val, he wouldn’t have to leave the –
Don’t be hysterical, that’s what his mum would have said (and something he’d taken with him, only for Morse to tell him that he shouldn’t, but the desk sergeant had never complained when he had called him that), and so he took a deep breath. They would deal with that, naturally, because he had Morse at his side, and they had never failed so far… granted, that was mostly due to DCI Morse, no matter what people said behind his back, but who cared about that.
Joan bid them goodbye soon after dinner, since “They’d have to be up bright and early” and not even Morse attempted to put up a fight.
They all knew it would have been useless anyway.
And Robbie was left alone with Morse again. Without either of them saying something, his future governor simply put on a LP again, and Robbie frowned – was that Puccini? Verdi? He had no idea, he’d never been the best at guessing, but at least it wasn’t Wagner – he didn’t think he’d ever understand that particular composer.
He saw Morse glance towards the newspaper and suppressed a grin. “If you want to do the crosswords puzzle, be my guest.”
He only realized his mistake when Morse frowned. “That’s what Val likes to do” he hastened to say. “In the evening, after dinner.”
Morse raised an eyebrow – of course, his bloody instincts telling him that this wasn’t true – but he clearly wanted to have some time for himself, so he did just that.
Robbie was left to entertain himself how he saw fit, and he stepped up to his bookcase. “Do you mind?”
Morse seemed surprised that he had asked, but nodded.
He went over the titles. Some of them he recognized, be it because he had read them (unlikely) or because Val had mentioned them (much more often the case), some he vaguely remembered from school, and unsurprisingly, most of them he had never heard of before.
But what he did recognize –
He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he frowned. Madame Bovary? War and Peace? And… everything from Thomas Hardy – weren’t all of those bloody depressing? Maybe he should try something else, like Three Men in a Boat, that one was funny…
There was nothing he could do about it, though, and at least there was no science fiction; he wouldn’t have liked reading about time travel or something like that.
In the end, he grabbed Murder On the Orient Express because at least it was Agatha Christie and he knew that meant Hercule Poirot got the murderer in the end, which was more than he could say for real life sometimes.
And so, here they were, actually spending time together in a way they usually didn’t. Much as he tried to focus on the book – and it wasn’t bad, he would day that, Dame Agatha certainly knew how to keep people’s attention – he couldn’t help but glance at Morse and wonder if this was how he spent his evenings even decades from now, after Robbie had gone home to Val and the kiddies.
It seemed peaceful enough, he supposed. Comfortable, even, as much as he could be in that dark little place (at least that would change). And even – serene, yeah, that was one of those words Morse sometimes used when doing exactly what he was doing right now. Just… lonely.
There should be friends around, a wife, maybe one or two kiddies by now.
And even though he had tried his outmost not to let it happen, he had to think of Joan again and how she had lit up even this place…
He looked back down on the book. Even if he barely read one word in ten.
“Leaning column” Morse muttered.
“Oped piece” he said promptly because he remembered that one very well. Morse had muttered it in the pub – much like now, really – and, when he had seen Robbie’s confused face, had deigned to explain to him how he had come up with the solution – “a newspaper column expressing an opinion, or you know, a leaning” he shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal even though it most definitely was in Morse’s eyes because he looked down at the paper, back at Robbie, then slowly said, “That’s right.”
He shrugged. Could have pretended that he had “Like I said, I’ve spent a lot of time with a crosswords enthusiast.”
It was just information enough for Morse not to ask, and thankfully he didn’t.
Then again, this Morse was somewhat more curious than his DCI, so he probably wouldn’t have said anything anyway.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Morse put the crosswords puzzle away – to his shock (they did have time so there was no reason to stop) he actually put the paper down with the puzzle only half-solved. “How are you?”
“I think the phrase is as well as can be expected, ay” he replied because it was the truth. He clung to the hope that everything was going to turn out well because – it was all he had.
“Which wouldn’t be all that good” Morse pointed out because of course he would.
“That may be, but it’s all I have at the moment. If I dare think for just a moment that I won’t –“ he broke off.
“It’s not a good idea to dwell on the worst possible outcome” Morse agreed and he couldn’t help it – he laughed. Because if there was one man who –
Morse joined in when he had expected to be told off. “I know” he conceded, “Easier said than done.”
“Ay” he agreed. “It sure is.”
“But we do have a lead, which is more than we have during some cases…” he trailed off, but Robbie’s interest was piqued. Again, Morse never spoke about his past, about how it had been like to start out in the Sixties, then making his way up the ladder…
“Really? Because we’ve had quite a bit odd ones too, but my governor is pretty good at those, so…”
“I dare so” Morse drawled, like the man he’d come to know “You never had a brick thrown at you by someone who believed his dead sister was talking to him through a machine.”
“What?” he exclaimed before he could stop himself. And he’d though the tiger was bad enough.
“You see, it was…”
Over the next half hour, he was treated to quite a few more stories, once more strengthening his belief that DCI Morse might be a very different man now if someone had bothered to listen to and look after him at certain points in his life. Not that he and Val weren’t trying – it was just that… well, Morse was his governor, and Robbie had never even managed to invite him to dinner. He’d always thought it would do him good to spend some time with the kiddies, but admittedly he was biased in that regard…
But maybe, just for tonight, he could once more keep him company, and so they were laughing – actually laughing, not that dry chuckle Robbie knew so well or the contemptuous laugh Morse reserved for annoying academics – about him falling through the floor, not because it was funny, but because it seemed to be around the fourth or fifth time he’d been injured in a single month.
Really, how he’d survived long enough to make it to Chief Inspector, Robbie had no idea. He himself had already had a few close calls – and Val would have been able to tell him how many, and where he’d been injured, and how grave the wounds had been, exactly – but nothing like this.
He suddenly found himself wishing they could have talked like that when he’d first become Morse’s bagman. Maybe things would be different now – maybe Morse would not be such a miserable, lonely sod. After all, Val’s aunt had a few single friends, they might –
He reminded himself that he had to get home first, but was distracted by an exact listing of DI Thursday’s sandwich schedule, and he once again found himself wondering what had happened between them. It must have been something bad, for Robbie already knew that he wouldn’t just never speak to DCI Morse once he moved on and became a DI or, much more likely, DCI Morse retired. Even if the miserable sod wanted that to happen.
“What do you eat, then?” he asked to distract himself, and was rewarded by Morse trying to avoid answering because of course, just like he’d noticed, he didn’t eat when there wasn’t someone to remind him.
“I don’t have anyone to make sandwiches for me” was what he eventually settled on because of course he would.
And Robbie couldn’t even say anything against that because he’d been one of the lucky ones who Moe or less went from living with his parents to being happily married. Still… “Doesn’t take much to stick a few things between two pieces of bread in the morning.”
“I guess not” Morse admitted, looking almost, if not quite, sheepish.
“Then again” he said because he really didn’t want to make him feel bad “what do I know? I got really lucky with my Val.”
Morse actually smiled that small, pleased smile of his again because, again, he was nothing but a good man deep down. “I suppose so.”
Another moment or two of silence.
“You’ll see her again soon” Morse then offered, probably just because he thought he ought to.
Robbie nodded.
After all, why ever not? They had a plan, and they would manage.
“We just have rot follow the rider first thing in the morning, he’ll lead us to Baba Yaga.”
And if he, like Robbie wondered if perhaps they’d manage to leave early enough that they didn’t put Joan in danger, neither of them mentioned it.
Even though he had not known her long, Robbie would decide that he really should have known better. They had barely finished breakfast next day at dawn – something he insisted on, because Mose would have forgotten again – when there was a knock on the door.
As soon as he opened it, Joan swept inside. “Ah, good, you’re already dressed… although perhaps” she smirked at Morse, who blushed again, Robbie feeling rather bad about it once more “what I mean is, we can go then.”
He really tried to object, but then he looked into her eyes and knew it was helpless.
He sighed.
There was nothing for it but to go, then.
To their surprise, Joan had brought a few things with her. “I’ve been to the Quarter a few times and some things… well,. There’s salt of course, and I brought a crucifix…”
“Baba Yaga is Russian” Morse pointed out. “And comes from folklore, which means catholic superstitions probably won’t do much… at least I don’t quite see how she would worry about that…”
“Can’t harm, can it?”
Since Morse apparently really didn’t know the answer to that, he was silent.
“So now we just have to find the rider, and then we can send Robbie back home once we’ve talked to Baba Yaga”.
She made it sound so easy.
“As long as we don’t put anyone in harm’s way” he said.
“Oh don’t worry we’ve got Morse with us – he might be injured, but he won’t allow anyone else to be.”
Morse frowned, and Robbie could only agree with her, remembering what Morse had told him – and more than that, Morse had been injured more than once on their own cases as well – he really needed someone to –
You’re almost home. Don’t try and change things now.
And so, they were soon on their way.
“What did you tell Dad, anyway?” Joan asked and Robbie very belatedly realized that Morse must have come up with something to explain why he wasn’t at work. Joan, of course, could easily claim that she was helping people in the Quarter…
“I am visiting my sister” he said simply and Robbie, remembering another case from not so long ago, or far into the future, swallowed and did not look at him. To this day, he was sure that the Morse of their time thought he didn’t know. All of that would happen soon enough…
“Well then, he thinks you work too much anyway” she said lightly. “Never goes home, that one” were his words.”
Robbie managed not to stumble at the thought of the DCI Morse who he’d had to pick up from countless pubs across the city actually staying at the station until the work day was finished.
“Alright, so here we are on the outskirts of town. That has to –“
And then the sun rose.
Or rather, a rider in full armour suddenly and maddingly fast rode past them; he was gone in a flash, so quickly that Robbie doubted he had even –
“That was him” Morse said because even now he would explain every little thing as if no one else could understand.
“I mean, I am sort of relieved” Joan said lightly. “Wouldn’t want another one of these riding around at the same time –“
Morse looked away.
“You do know not everything is meant as a criticism, right? Just like you shouldn’t listen to half of what Dad says.”
now he looked positively scandalized, and she laughed.
Robbie thought about that time he’d been forced to work under another DCI and winced in sympathy. It was difficult to explain to someone not in the service, but loyalty could and would run deep, especially when one happened to spend more time with someone than with Oen’s wife (he had no idea what he would have done if not for Val’s infinite patience).
Her eyes softened and Robbie once more became aware that there was much more to her than the proud woman who’d looked right through him when they had met.
He made a decision. He had to try one more time – “Now that I know where to go – ”
Both Joan and Morse looked at him, and he knew that it would be useless to try and continue.
Best try and follow the rider, then.
“When was the last time you left Oxford, anyway?” Joan asked teasingly. “According to Dad, you’d kip at the station if they let you.”
“I’ve been on the list for tickets for Bayreuth.”
“Lovely place, that” Robbie said because he couldn’t resist. “Lots of beaches and the sun…”
Morse stared at him, but he just looked back evenly, and then Morse’s shoulders slumped and he chuckled.
Good to know he could still take a joke.
“Who do you plan on taking with?” Joan asked, and Robbie would give her credit – he could only tell she was fishing because he had been a copper for over a decade, now.
Morse, naturally, was oblivious because this was Morse they were talking about and even in these times, he would not realize someone actually wanted to spend time with him even if they made a handstand in front of him – Robbie didn’t think he’d ever realized their boy had actually enjoyed the afternoon where Morse had watched them train cricket.
But then again... he threw Joan a glance and he remembered what he’d told him about the dinner invitation and –
Why did everything have to be so complicated? There had been a time when he had believed everyone just had the chance he and Val had gotten.
Ah, the enthusiasm of youth, or whatever Morse would have said.
“Good luck with Bayreuth, anyway” he said to distract them. “That’s the one where the play all the Wagners until they’re done and then everyone can go home, right?”
Morse looked scandalized and Joan laughed.
And so here they were, trying to find the rider, who of course had not left any traces…
“I read up on Baba Yaga too, and some say her house can move” join said.
“That is true, but she is said to enjoy riding around in a mortar, and it would be impractical if her house was to move while she did too…” Morse said.
“Ay, I just don’t think those folks necessary follow logic like that” Robbie said because when it came to fairy tale, anything was possible, as Lyn would have told them.
Morse looked at him in the way he usually did when he surprised him by thinking as quickly as he did, while Joan grinned. “You two make a fine pair. If you didn’t have to go back home,. I’d say you should become partners eventually.”
Robbie blinked as he tried not to give anything while Morse shook his head. “I don’t think anyone would want to work with me.”
Apparently he had already given up the hope that he would one day have a bagman of his own. “I would” he told him honestly and was rewarded by a somewhat surprised smile.
“I don’t think that’s much of an option” he said and Robbie realized with a start that he didn’t expect to stay working for the police for as long as he would.
But again, he couldn’t tell him, that would be…
“Is there any chance of finding out where the rider has gone?” Joan asked. “Read his ground, that kind of thing?”
“I’m afraid that’s not quite part of my work…”
“You were the one who lived in a cabin in the woods for a while.”
Morse stared at her. “How – “
“Do you really think, with the hatstand rule in place, I didn’t learn how to eavesdrop from an early age?”
Morse didn’t know where to look.
“Anyway, so any chance you could figure out where the horse went?”
“I would assume back to the hut –“
“That doesn’t help us now does it.“
“Any idea where the girl went in the story?” Robbie asked.
“Just into the woods, so I assume we have to go deeper –“
“Alright then” Joan said cheerfully and walked on.
After a while, Robbie thought it a good idea to fall back, mostly because he really wanted to see Morse relaxed for once.
And indeed, Joan soon asked him a question about the Baba Yaga tale, and he began a soliloquy from the sort Robbie knew so well.
Now and then, Joan throw Robbie an amused glance, but mostly she listened.
Whatever it was there had happened between them, it was clearly forgotten in the thrill of the chase.
He was not surprised to find that Morse already had several theories as to what was going on, and why – or what they should do once they arrived at the – hut.
Nor that it mostly consisted of “Let Morse do the dangerous thing while Robbie and Joan hold back.”
When it came to that, however, he soon found that he was mistaken.
“Absolutely not. Robbie?”
He shook his head. “I’m a police officer. Can’t just stay back and let someone else fight my battles.”
“That’s what everyone else always does” it seemed to break out of Morse before he could stoop himself, but Joan frowned.
“They do, don’t they? Dad –“
But of course he wouldn’t discuss his governor now, either.
“Well, I still say I am the one who should go first, after all it’s my problem –“
“And this is our home, so we –“
“Miss Thursday –“
“Police work is all well and good, and I won’t repetend it’s not important, but there are things that are more important in such –“
“Miss –“
“And anyway, since none of us know what we are walking into, it doesn’t matter anyway –“
“Joan –“
“Hah. Was waiting for you to call me that, finally.”
Morse blushed rather fiercely and Robbie had the feeling that he was once more caught in a moment where Val would have nudged him and let him know they should probably be alone for a bit, but it couldn’t be helped.
He reminded himself that not only was he older than both of them, at the moment at least, but that he would be DCI Morse’s bagman and as such should always have his back, which he couldn’t very well do if he was hiding behind him (Unless he took things literally – no, he had been spending too much time with Morse, dear Lord).
And then, suddenly, without being able to say how or why, they were standing in front of a hut on chicken feet.
“I’m going in first, and that’s it” Robbie announced.
When he saw Joan’s jaw harden he said, “It’s my problem, and I want to make sure you two are safe. Just look after Morse – he’s rather prone to –“
“I’m the only policeman from here between us!” Morse complained and while he was right, that wasn’t really an excuse when this was Robbie’s problem and he was not going to bloody let anyone else get harmed because of it.
Morse looked at him, he looked back, and then Morse sighed.
“Baba Yaga is said to be kind to good people” he told him. “Don’t try to lie to her, and be polite.”
He nodded.
“You are just going to –“ Joan began, but Morse shook his head.
“It is his problem, and he wants to deal with it.”
They looked at one another, then Joan nodded once, twice, looked away.
Robbie met Morse’s eyes and tried to convey –
He seemed surprised, hesitated, but then stepped up to her.
And Robbie sighed and wondered and wished –
But on the other hand –
With three decisive steps, he was at the door and knocked.
“Robbie –“
The door swung open and he said over his shoulder, “Wait for me” before stepping inside.
It was dark, and rather remarkably cool despite a fire burning in the hearth.
Robbie peered into the single room, noting the books strewn about – one or two lay open but they weren’t written in any language he spoke or had ever seen – a glowing orb on the table, a stuffed crocodile hanging from the ceiling.
He would say that – it looked like the place of someone who knew magic.
And then a noise outside.
He immediately turned around – what if Joan and Morse – but the door was shut despite him not having done so, and –
Just as he had reached it, it flew open and –
An old woman riding a giant mortar entered.
Stared at him.
And announced, “That’s these two dealt with… fine, then, Robert Lewis, tell me what you want.”
There were many things he could have said, but the first thing that came to mind was, “What did you do to Morse and Joan?”
She laughed – it sounded like the creaking of an old door. “A good question.” She left it up to interpretation of she actually thought so or was making fun of him. “Do not worry. They will try and fail to catch up with us, but that’s about it… and perhaps… they should spend some time alone, really.”
Catch up – he turned his head and looked out the window.
There could be no denying that the hut was, in fact, moving.
Of course he hadn’t noticed, but that was magic for you – he could only trust his instincts and hope that everything would be fine.
“I have to say, I am rather surprised. Most people get scared and angry at this part” she told him roughly as she started grabbing a few bottles of the shelves and seemingly randomly adding a few drops from every single one into her cauldron.
“I think I’ve been through too much for that” he told her, and she laughed.
“I will say this, honesty is somewhat refreshing… reminds me of my dear Vasilisa. She still visits, you know. Of course people can’t find out because of the story and I’m supposed to be somewhat scary – do you think I am?”
He was about to reply that she wasn’t – she might be a bit tall, but that was not – when she pulled a chicken skeleton out of another drawer and threw it into the cauldron.
He knew he shouldn’t have stared but…
She laughed that peculiar laugh of hers again. “I do tend to forget that human recipes are not quite the same as my own…”
“Recipes?”
“Alright, maybe… let’s not call them that. You wouldn’t understand, I don’t think so… Now, what appears to be your problem?”
“I –“ it was only then that he remembered. “You sent me here!”
She replied without raising her own voice, which somehow made it worse. “I can assure you I would remember any invitation I sent out, and I only rarely expect visitors to begin –“
“Not here, woman! I mean – this year! I’m not – I’m from the future!”
She did not laugh or frown or do anything that he might expected from a – a human (or, remembering the Quarter, any other creature or magic user that came their way) but instead studied him then said, “Ah, that’s what it is.”
“You sent me here!” he repeated. “I –“ he hesitated, his memory still fuzzy, but really, what else was he supposed to –
“I did not” she said calmly – too calmly? He’d seen his fair share of suspects who seemed quite enough until they suddenly reacted violently, and he was aware that he was far too panicked to even try and reason with… what even was the old lady? He couldn’t say, and he thought it might be impolite to ask.
“But –“
“Let me guess, you saw a hag, a house with chicken feet, and look at that! Everyone’s blaming Baba Yaga again!”
“I – I don’t know what I saw. I’m rather sure –“
“Oh yes, people know how to make others see things they want them to see… and then it’s all my fault once more!”
He tried very much to look like someone who would never blame her for something she hadn’t done, or claimed not to have done. He really couldn’t say one way or the other, and he wished Joan and Morse were here… they had more experience, although not much.
Again, I – when he made it home, he was very much going to insist that policeman should spend some time in the Quarter as well while they were on the beat.
“I – I don’t care” he finally said. “I just – I want to get home –“
“I understand, it’s always about wanting with you humans – but first things first. We have to figure out what happened, exactly. So tell me.”
And he had to once more explain how he had ended up in this situation, which really didn’t help at all, because it only meant that someone else –
She clicked her tongue when he was finished. “I see. Well, in some ways it is very literal – she told you you would see the past, and so this is what you are doing.”
“I think –“
“And more importantly, you are seeing someone else’s past.”
He frowned. “She –“
“She told you Well then – I’ll just have to do the exact same thing I did to our dear chief inspector – and as far as you know, she showed him his past…”
He nodded.
“That…. Hm… I was hoping that all of this might blow over by you fulfilling what you had been sent out to do, or perhaps the magic could dissipate in another way. But when things are like this… she really could have been more precise.”
Robbie didn’t really know if he wished for that too, since f she had, he might have ended up even farther from where he belonged.
“But well… for now, you should really stay close to this… Morse, then.”
That, at least, was something he could do.
“Now let me just…” and she added yet another few drops to the cauldron and stared into it. Muttering to herself in a language that might have been Russian and might have been Gaelic and might have been something else entirely. Robbie felt he was past being surprised, whatever it might have been.
“Ah!” she finally announced. “That – “ there was a tone in her voice that told Robbie it was probably a good thing she had interrupted herself before she continued much more calmly, “I should have guessed. She does like to annoy me –“
“Sorry, what is going on?” he asked.
“Well, it seems that you were… no, that’s not the right word, although perhaps she understands it as such… no, wait, you humans like long explanations, don’t you –“
That depended – Morse certainly loved them, whereas Robbie was usually happy to just understand what was going on and to react accordingly.
“It’s not me you’re looking for, but Wyrd.”
“It is weird” he agreed because no one could argue with that.”
“No” she said patiently – patiently at least for an old goddess, which was what she was or had been if he understood correctly – “Wyrd.”
He assumed she meant something else, then.
Or rather, someone else.
“Fate. Destiny. The Unexpected. Her.”
He needed a moment, then –
“Are you telling me that fate is a person?”
“In the same way Time is” she said simply. “In the same way I am. Human belief can do many things – in fact everything you can imagine otherwise it would not be belief would it – and creating people is one of them. Wyrd is like Justicia. Like me.”
He was starting to get a headache but that he was almost growing used to.
“And she likes to play tricks on people – as you probably already noticed even before this.”
Yes, he thought somewhat confusedly, if there was one thing that could be cruel, it would be Fate. But them running around as a person…
“I have never wondered about that” he said honestly.
“I suppose you wouldn’t… I forget how much you humans are…” she stopped, which rather impressed him. He wouldn’t have thought her so diplomatic. “I do not like to repeat myself” at least she was telling the truth, he could tell “but whatever you can imagine can create something.”
Yes, she had told him that before, but –
“Oh, I think we should probably let them in. It won’t do to just keep them running, you humans have so little stamina –“
Before he could ask, the house stopped. Having forgotten that it was even moving, he only realized when he found himself suffering from a sudden case of sea-legs, and he thought Baba Yaga smiled but couldn’t be sure.
And then the door jumped open and Morse and Joan fell in – the former quickly turning around so he would be under her – and there they were on the floor.
For a moment or two, no one said anything, which was probably a good thing because Jona and Morse were busy staring at one another.
Then Baba Yaga cheerfully announced “Glad you made it!” as if it wasn’t her fault that the house had moved away from them in the first place.
Joan raised her head to look at her, her own widening ever so slightly before she said, “Hello”.
Morse apparently had no idea what to do, especially since she made no move to get up, and against the odds, Robbie had to save himself with a cough as to not to laugh out loud.
Baba Yaga, it had to be said, had no such qualms, and simply started to laugh. “Too bad I only have one room… should we go outside and leave you tow lovebirds to it?”
Joan blushed and scrambled away, which was the only thing that could distract from Morse’s own bright red face.
“Have it your way… you humans certainly love making everything complicated. Well –“
“Are you going to send Robbie home?” Joan demanded just as Morse Gotz up.
“It wasn’t her fault” Robbie was quick to point out. “It was Wyrd.”
They looked at him and then Joan replied, “I suppose it –“
“If In understand correctly” Morse interrupted her because no matter who he was talking to, he would always be a know-it-all, Robbie thought with a fond smile, “It means fate. Old Norse Urðr or Örlög, Old English Wyrd, Old Saxon Wurd, Old High German Wurt, Proto-Germanic Wurðiz –“
“No offense, but I think Robbie can do without the lesson in –“
“They were the main force that determined the course of events in the universe.”
“So you mean Fate personally has it out for Robbie?”
That was… true but it didn’t sound very uplifting, and she seemed to realize because she said, “Not that –“
“No, no” he was quick to interrupt her.
“What we need” Morse announced “is someone who practices eiðr.”
Robbie had no idea what he was talking about, but that was such a familiar feeling that it was even comforting. And if he was right –
Of course Morse began to explain.
“eiðr is believed to be a form of magic which is related to both the telling and the shaping of the future. If I remember currently, those who practiced it were usually located near the borders of a settlement… I also seem to recall that it was called a female craft, so we’re probably looking for a woman…”
Another woman who could practice magic, what could go wrong? But wait a minute –
Robbie was at this point to run down to do anything but turn to baba Yaga and ask, “Did you know?”
She looked back evenly. “I wished to know if one of you did – it seems your young man” she turned to Joan “is very well-read but you know that.”
“He isn’t –“
“We’re not –“
“Ah, my mistake.” She didn’t sound the least bit sorry about it, however. “But he’s right, no matter what he is.”
And that was apparently all she had to say about that, something that didn’t seem to surprise Morse.
Robbie resigned himself to go find yet someone else who could help; they bid Baba Yaga goodbye and had almost reached the door when she called out, “Wait, Robbie!”
He turned around and she handed him a – skull.
Its eyes were glowing.
“It might be very dark where you’re going, this will help.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
He did not quite know to make of it, if he was being honest, but when he glanced at Morse, he nodded, so he assumed everything was fine.
And then, to his surprise, her eyes softened. “Bless you and your path, Robert Lewis, and may you soon return to a world even better than the one you left.”
He didn’t exactly know what she meant, but he was more than happy to accepts any blessing that could be – well, useful.
Granted, it felt somewhat strange to walk back to Oxford with a skull in his hands, but if there was one town where he could get away with it, it was probably one full of dons and academics who would think he was researching something… and he had the police with him just in case anyone tried to stop him…
“So once the seer – sorry, I forgot what they’re called – tell us what to do, do you think we can send Robbie home?” Joan asked Morse, and he glanced at him before answering.
“It certainly seems that way. Or at least baba Yaga appears to think so.”
“And she did help that girl in the story…”
“Yes…” Morse said. Glancing at the skull, but at least Robbie had an answer for that.
“And there’s no evil stepmother or so around, so we should not be in danger of burning anyone.”
“Dad’s right” Joan decided, “You make everything complicated, don’t you, Morse.”
“It’s got nothing to do with him” Robbie said, perhaps hotter than he had intended (probably because it sounded like something Mrs. Strange would say, as opposed to the young woman he’d come to know), “I got sent back.”
“I know” she told him, immediately softening. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded at her, looking back down at the skull. “It is a little scary I suppose… our girl Lyn would love it.”
“Not surprised I would have too as a child.”
“I can imagine that” Morse said, looking surprised at himself in the next moment, and Joan boxed his side and laughed.
Morse blushed again.
Robbie thought that, whatever he had gone through when Joan had married Superintendent Strange, this was not going to make it easier. But perhaps – it was magic, right? Could be that he could be sent back before he’d ever come here but – no, that wouldn’t work, would it, because this was a different time –
He was most definitely looking forward to his biggest problem being to put their children to bed on time once more.
“She could have told us how it worked, at least” he said because it would have been somewhat nice to know that he could control the skull just in case it ever began to burn people up like the story.
“I don’t think that is how Baba Yaga thinks” Morse replied. “She is – not human.”
“I think we’ve established that” Joan said. “I’ll feel my legs for weeks.”
It was somewhat amusing to watch Morse very heroically not glance at her legs after she said that.
“At least you could look after one another “Robbie said before he could stop himself.
“Yes, we could” she said. “Morfs wouldn’t even let me try and grab the fence.”
“It was moving” he said. “You could have been hurt.”
“And you weren’t? You fell four times –“
“Three –“
“Four, not counting landing on the floor so I wouldn’t.”
Morse didn’t answer even though if you asked Robbie, he very much should have.
Another opportunity wasted, although again, for what…
At least they arrived soon back on the outskirts of town, meaning they either hadn’t been that far away or the house had brought them some distance near where they wanted to go. Either way, Robbie was thankful.
“Now we just have to figure out –“
And then a bright light came out of the skull’s eye sockets and pointed straight at a small cross street nearby.
“I don’t know” Joan said lightly. “Could be it, don’t you think?”
He chose not to answer, and neither did Morse.
He already knew what the answer would be, yet turned around. “I was wondering if you could perhaps –“
“Most such creatures have habits or customs, at least from what I’ve read or seen” Morse said simply before turning to Joan. “Miss Thursday, do you have any experience in this regard?”
“Can’t say that I have. Then again, I don’t imagine someone like that would need our services.”
“It doesn’t sound like she has children” Morse agreed “Or that she would allow them to be looked after –“
“Probably wouldn’t happen when one has magic” she said. “Have you never wondered what it would be like?”
“I always found the world complicated enough even without magic.”
And that was Morse, that was Morse through and through.
It seemed Joan agreed, since she laughed that melodious laugh of hers again that made Robbie think of Val. “It probably makes things even more… complicated, but that’s life, isn’t it?” she paused for a second then continued, “I mean, I get wanting to feel safe after… something happened. That’s what I did – what I thought – but all of this… magic and mayhem and everything in-between, it’s – so much more like – well, it’s what I wished for as a young girl.”
“You’re still young” Morse said before Robbie could, and Joan laughed again.
“As opposed to you two old men, you mean? Still…” And she and Morse looked at one another.
And once again, Robbie very much felt like the fifth wheel.
Well, there was nothing he could do about it, and perhaps he shouldn’t, seeing how –
He needed to get home. How often did he have to tell himself he needed to focus on that?
“Do you have any idea how we are going to find their house?” he asked, choosing not to stir and pronounce the word for seer. He was hardly as talented as Morse when it came to foreign languages – he certainly hadn’t even been able to keep up with Val’s Italian lessons, despite having tried his best – and they would know what he wanted to say anyway.
“I am afraid not” Morse said, Robbie still being one of the few who could tell he actually was and that it wasn’t sarcasm.
It seemed that Joan could, too, for she simply smiled at Robbie in a conspiratorial, as Morse would have said, way.
“I can’t imagine it’s that hard to find” Joan said. “After all, they’re important, aren’t they? Sooth sayers and they like… they consider their work their duty, and sometimes a sacred one at that. They wouldn’t just hide –“
“I am sure there must be signs” Morse replied.
“What do you think they are – certainly you’ve –“
They kept discussing the topic until Robbie said, “I assume this is it.”
“What?” Morse asked.
He didn’t answer, simply thinking that they would probably notice –
“Well” Joan said. “That’s somewhat more obvious than I thought it would be.”
It was. He certainly hadn’t expected a sign that proclaimed Divination & Fortune Telling, nor another one under it that spelled out, No guarantee of a positive reading.
“Certainly can’t fault them for false advertising, can we?” Joan asked laughing; when he glanced at Morse, he saw to his surprise that he was struggling to hide his smile.
Yes, some things…
You are almost there, man. Don’t make thing’s even more complicated than they should be. “I’ll knock.”
“We can’t be sure –“
“No offense, Morse” he said artlessly in much the same tone as he would have sued with DCI Morse, “But I really want to go home.”
He nodded, then stepped back to show that he had understood.
And naturally, this also meant he stood closer to Joan once more.
Robbie took a deep breath and turned away, as he would have to again and again, before stepping up the house his old auntie would have called quaint.
He reached out and knocked and the door opened immediately – noiselessly and effortlessly.
He looked at the two, but Morse shrugged and Joan looked intrigued.
Any further protest would be useless, so he walked in and knew they were following him.
As opposed to Baba Yaga’s house, this one couldn’t have looked more – he began to think normal, then thought better of it and decided to call it human.
There was even a small table with flowers on it in the hallway.
For some reason, that confused him more than anything else. Magic hallways, dragons lying around, maybe a portal to another place – all of that he would not only not have been surprised at, but accepted as what he could now expect – but flowers?
And then a voice called out from the living room, “Are you going to stand there all day? I mean I know two of you just can’t seem to move along despite it being obvious to everyone, but –“
He very much did not look at Joan and Morse but instead decided to do as the voice had bidden and moved on.
“Oh, and leave the skull in the hallway. I am not risking my furniture.”
There was nothing he could do but obey.
Now, if Baba Yaga’s hut had been exactly as one would think a witch’s place ought to look, this was – his auntie wouldn’t have looked out of place here, Robbie thought. Very clean – he could see his reflection on the table top –flowers everywhere, the window wide open so the fresh air could come in.
“Ah. I’ve been expecting you.”
He almost asked How, then remembered that she was a seer and was rather proud at holding himself back. He was slowly starting to gain his bearings, at least he hoped so. “Do you know what happened to me then, ma’am?”
The – eiðr – nodded approvingly. “Very good. It’s always best to be on your best behaviour when meeting someone knew –“ she glanced at – Morse – he realized and had yet again to bite back a laugh.-
If he took that lesson with him, it would really be something…
“Still, I assume you’re eager to get back home, but – where are my manners! Please do sit down.”
Robbie would never be quite certain how she had managed,. But at the end of it, Morse and Joan were sitting together on the love seat, whereas he and the – their host each had their own chair.
Now, they might not have moved closer to one another, but he Alsop noticed that neither made any attempt to stay as much away as possible – on the contrary, he was rather sure their legs were touching…
“So you want to go home, Robert Lewis.”
He nodded.
“It might not be as easy as it seems –“
And now he really couldn’t suppress his laughter.
This was too much.
As a matter of facts, he laughed so much that he started coughing.
Next thing he knew, the woman was patting his back while Morse was standing next to him, looking uncomfortable, but he was used to –
And then Morse, at a glance from Joan, turned to their host and inquired after a glass of water.
Thankfully he had no breath left to lose.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked him after he’d forced it down; he nodded, and Joan and Morse returned to their seats, sitting a little bit closer…
“Now, where were we… of course. I am sorry, you must be under a lot of stress – there are even two of you in the current time…”
He didn’t look at anyone, instead staring at his hands, because his head was starting to hurt again.
“What was I – ah, yes. This won’t be easy. First I have to do a reading… wait here.” And she got up and left the room.
“Well” Joan said, taking a sip of her tea, “I have to say not even Mum could find something wrong with this place.”
“High praise” Morse said, smiling at her; she smiled back.
Robbie sighed. “Yes, it’s just, what –“
And then they heard the scream.
Morse was, naturally, out of his seat before Robbie, although only by a moment or so – it was Joan who said, “That was an animal. You learn how to tell…”
Right, child protection services.
Morse still looked like he’d rather have checked, but sat down again when she said something under her breath.
Robbie looked around and told himself to breathe, she had to come back –
And there she was, although he was relieved that she didn’t look bloody or in any way hurt. “Interesting. So you were targeted by Wyrd… normally, she doesn’t concern herself with mortals unless it’s important, so…”
This wasn’t exactly the solace she had perhaps meant it to be.
“Were can we find her?” Morse asked. “It seems to me that our best chance is to ask her to reverse what she did to Robbie, if she can be reasoned with.”
Hoan muttered something that sounded rather suspiciously like “Of course he’s Robbie” before saying, “If she can. I mean, no offense…” she glanced at their hostess.
“None taken. I am aware that such things can be difficult for humans to comprehend.”
Robbie was growing rather tired of hearing that, but if it brought him home –
“She is not easily caught. I am afraid there is a test.”
Wasn’t there always, remembering the stories he read to the kiddies?
“And what kind of test?” he asked because certainly, there were –
“I should have been more precise. There are three tests, all in all.”
That was –
“One for each of us?” Joan asked and when Morse made a noise, she turned to him and said, “There’s three of us, it’s just logical… you learn to tell, when you are in contact with the Quarter.”
And Morse, even though he didn’t look happy, nodded to show that he agreed with her.
Once more, he wished he could have “So what do we need to do, then?”
She looked at him, and he had the feeling that she was seeing more than a desperate copper, but what, she couldn’t say.
“I need to speak to Robbie alone” she then stated, and would not allow any arguments; as a matter of fact, both Morse and Joan were still trying to argue when she closed the door behind them and shook her head. “Some people really cannot see the forest for the trees… well, fine then, let’s talk. But first… you really look like you could need a cup of tea.”
He was more thankful than he could say, especially because this turned out to be actual proper tea, like his auntie made whenever they came around.
“So, I understand this is scary” she told him. “But it might be your only way home.”
He nodded.
“Now, as I said, there are three parts of this ritual, but since you are the one who wishes to return home, most of it will be on your shoulders. The others… they will help, I know –“
“I didn’t want them –“
“It’s out of your hands now. That’s how it works.”
And who was he to protest against such things? He sighed.
“What do we have to do, then?” He could still do his best to keep them out of harm, he told himself. If he went in first… not that he had much of a chance with this young Morse, but well, if he could convince him Joan was in danger –
“You have to return to the beginning. By which I mean, where you arrived – do you remember?”
It was rather hard to forget, especially since that was where he had met Morse for the first/second time, so he nodded.
She appeared glad to hear it. “It’s not always that easy. But still – you have to go back there, and perform a Blót.”
“I’m sorry?” For a moment, he wondered if he should call Morse back – he’d probably heard of it –
“It’s a ritual. It first and foremost demands a sacrifice.” Of course it did – that was what magic was all about, really, when it came to the real thing and not the stories for kiddies – it was about real blood and pain and death, and this kind of thing –
“What kind of sacrifice?” he had to know. Because if – there were those who – and if it meant –
He knew that he would do it, and in some ways, that was the worst and the best of all. Because it might mean things he didn’t even want to – but if it got him home, if he could hold the kiddies, kiss Val again –
She laid a hand on his arm and he was surprised to find pity in her gaze. “Nothing as bad as that” she said softly. “But the trials will be unpleasant. For all of you.”
He nodded, wondering once more what he had dragged Joan and Morse into.
“So, the Blót. To summarize, it’s a blood sacrifice. A goat will suffice.”
Robbie did his best to look as if he had done that before, and she laughed before becoming serious once more.
“I know how it sounds, but it has been done so often, and has always worked… We actually keep animals for this sort of thing, so you don’t have to wonder where to get one.”
It was better that he would get a goat than to steal one from somewhere, he thought.
“And it’s important that it’s painless – or as painless as it can be, anyway – I know what I just said, but there is no honour in causing innocents pain. So, here, you will need this –“ she walked over to a small cabinet and pulled out a knife that looked very clean and very sharp and yet very old at the same time for reasons he couldn’t explain. “There’s also the wine – wait, I still have – ah –“ And out of another drawer came a flask. “It has to be sprinkled around the place first, so the gods will know it is for them.”
He managed not to ask how said gods would be made aware that this was indeed for them, or who they were. If he needed to know something she would tell him, he was absolutely certain of that.
“Then you have to pray.”
When she didn’t add anything, he asked, “How?” He couldn’t imagine that they would be very impressed with the C of E, and in truth, he was hardly what one would consider a –
“It doesn’t matter, as long as your heart is true, and I cannot imagine a purer intention than to try and get home to those you love and those who love you.”
This part seemed easy then, at least – but hadn’t she said something about –
“The trials will follow.”
Another pause.
He asked, “And what are they?”
“If I told before, it wouldn’t be much of a trail.”
He couldn’t agree –
“I am not being evasive, please, believe me, Robert Lewis. I cannot, for if I did, it would not work.”
He would have to be content with that. he sighed yet again.
“But if you are true of heart, and brave enough, and honest, all of this will get you home.” She looked at him. “And perhaps more than one heart will be rewarded –“
“What do you mean?”
“I cannot say” she answered simply.
Why would she, it would make things easier if she could –
But he resigned himself because he had no other choice, and, after all, he might soon be back with his family… he didn’t care what trials awaited him, he would go through each and every single one of them.
She called Joan and Morse back in; Robbie couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when he saw they looked rather… happy. And was that a blush on Morse’s cheeks?
Robbie didn’t comment, only listened as she explained once more what they would have to do.
As he had foreseen, they decided to go with him and there was nothing he could do or say about it.
“It’s my duty” was all Morse said, whereas Joan announced that she would see this through to the end because “she was done running away”. He had no idea what she meant but it seemed that Morse did; she looked at him and shook her head with a half-smile, and with that, it all seemed dealt with.
He supposed it was a good thing that they would not have to leave the Quarter – it might have been just a little awkward if he was found wandering around with the bagman and the daughter of the Chief Inspector of the station (although he still wondered why Morse had never mentioned – but this was really not what was important now) – with a goat in tow.
He did his best not to look at it because he knew he would have to cut their throat. Might have been a bit weak of him, but even where he’d grown up, he’d never really had occasion to slaughter an animal.
Morse clearly had the same thought, only that he kept glamming back at it, biting his lip.
Joan, meanwhile –
“I can do it, you know, if it makes you uncomfortable. We have to get you home somehow –“
“Thank you, lass, but it’s my responsibility.”
She giggled. “How did you ever make it to Oxford, anyway?” Then she remembered. “Of course, your wife – I’m sorry –“
“No, no, Val loves telling people she seduced me over to this city”.
“I think I’d like her.”
Yes, she would, and Val would have liked this Joan too, as opposed to Mrs. Strange.
He could hardly tell her that.
So, it was better to say nothing.
There was no information about what exactly the trials would be like, but he had not expected there to be.
Soon, they were standing on the street where everything had begun, what seemed like so long ago. He had expected there to be problems, questions because they were doing this in broad daylights, but the few passers-by who saw them seemed to hurry on, and he was ready to swear they were doing so on purpose.
“Do you have the wine?” Joan asked and he pulled out the flask.
“It should be sprinkled around the place of sacrifice” Morse said, and he and Joan traded a glance because of course he would.
He did, silently praying as he did so. It just struck him as more genuine to do so than to declare any prayers out loud and risk sounding like a fool. Even if the goods should know the difference.
Despite paying more attention than he ever had in his life, he had no idea where the doorway suddenly came from, or if he even should call it a doorway; it looked more like… a dark hole where there had just been the street; and being aware that he ought to go in, he still felt reluctant to do so; but then he remembered what was at stake and moved in, feeling more than hearing Joan and Morse following him.
They were standing in a lightning in the woods, if they could be said to be standing anywhere, which he assumed was something that was normal for this kind of thing, simply because it was easier to do so and he didn’t need yet more to worry about.
“So what do you think –“ he began because he honestly did not know how to proceed when –
Oh God. He’d seen pictures, of course he had, and he knew that they had already dealt with the Nornes or whatever they had called, and that this was a different kind of mythology, so they might –
But still –
Here they were, looking at something with the body of a lion, the head of a woman, and not to mention wings. Robbie had seen pictures, naturally, and there were that one that stood in Egypt, but –
“A sphinx” Morse said before anyone else could.
“I think we can all see that” Joan said, but lightly as opposed to when Robbie had first met her. “The question is –“
Welcome.
They all jumped, and not because the sphinx spoke – no, that would have been something else, but –
You are welcome here.
They could hear the words loud and clear, but in their heads, and her lips had never moved, nor had she even looked at them.
“I – “ Robbie began, then stopped tried again. “Thank you.” Again, couldn’t harm to be polite, and perhaps even Morse would take that with him. “Hello. I’M – I’m Robert Lewis, and I am trying to get home.”
Yes.
Nothing else.
“And I know there are tests or ordeals or whatnot” he tried because there as nothing else to do “and I have no idea how hard they’ll be, or if they are dangerous, or if I can manage, but I have to try because I got to get home. I – my wife and children. I have to –“
I see, and I will help.
She would? He felt something like hope returning.
But you have to answer my riddle first.
Oh. Now – there was something about the sphinx and a riddle. Yes, wait, right, when Val had been learning Greek – there was this chap who solved it and married the queen, only she was his mother and it all ended in tragedy, as these things always did because of course they would.
At least that wouldn’t happen, which was a relief.
But still…
He had Morse with him, though, he recalled with some relief now even though part of him still wanted him anywhere but here. If there was someone who could solve the most difficult riddle under the worst circumstances…
The riddle is for you, Robert Lewis, because you first answered me.
Oh. Now this – he’d much rather –
He tried to turn his head, to look at the others, but couldn’t and then he remembered something else.
Hadn’t this – hadn’t they eaten those who couldn’t solve their riddle?
He began to sweat. Now, if he – that was one thing, but of Morse and Joan should die too just because he –
What speaks without a mouth and hears without ears, has no body, but comes alive with the wind?
He was also sure that he had never heard that before, so it was probably not out of some legend or fairy tale – between Val and the kiddies, he knew those…
He really wished he could talk to or at least look at Morse, but of course that was out of the question, and he tried to think –
This wasn’t just one of those crosswords puzzles his governor always did, or a quiz show on the telly, this was important –
Speak, so something that could make a noise, but also something that could listen, or at least –
And then he knew.
“Echo” he said. “An echo.”
A pause.
Hsi heart beat painfully fast, once, twice, three –
Correct.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well done” Joan said, and that was how he realized they could move again, Morse nodding at him before turning back to the Sphinx.
“Now –“
The second trial. Which one of you will do it?
Wait. Which one? “It’s all me” Robbie said. “I want to go home –“
Three participants. Three trials. Those are the rules.
And only then did he understand that he had just set up Morse and Joan for something they didn’t even completely comprehend, and that just because they had wanted to help him –
“Come on, it’s unfair. It’s me who has the problem –“
Unfair?
It was very clear just from the tone – how the voice even had a tone when nothing was spoken aloud, he had no idea – that the sphinx didn’t even understand what that word meant.
“I – it’s my problem” he told her, trying to word it in a way that would make her see what he meant. “I did get send back into the pasts, and I am trying to return, and this has nothing to do with them.”
But it has.
“It’s not –“
They chose to help you. This makes them part of the story. Whether they want to be or not.
“I am ready to do what needs to be done” Morse then said.
Of course he was.
“And what makes you think I’m not?” Joan demanded. “We’re going to see you home, and that’s that!”
You see they are willing.
And yet he had to try, he couldn’t help it. If they were not willing anymore, they wouldn’t be part of the story, that was just logical…
“No”. He looked at both of them. “Absolutely not. This is my problem and I will deal with it. You two stand back –“
“Absolutely not” Morse argued as well, as he had known he would – as probably many others wouldn’t have thought – but again, Morse was nothing if not decent – “I am an officer of the Police, and –“
“You know as well as I do that that doesn’t count for much in the Quarter –“
“If I – if this goes wrong” Robbie said because it needed to be said, it ought to be said, and sometimes, there was just nothing one could do “I want you to run.” After all, he didn’t belong in this time – if something happened to him now – he wouldn’t make it home but things wouldn’t change, they’d go on, and Val… he knew Val would do what needed to be done, and she would look after their kiddies.
But if something happened to Morse or Joan… he didn’t know exactly how things would change, but they would. For one thing, he had no idea who would be his governor. Who knew, he might even have gone back to vice if he had never met him.
And Joan… he suppressed the thought that according to the rumours, there were more than enough women who would comfort Superintendent Strange. It was not his place.
Be that as it may, he was not risking either of them.
“It is my –“
“You know this is not my time” he said, all but imploring Morse – it might have been – well – but he knew how to handle him, these days, they had been working together long enough for that – “So I should be the one to end this.”
He looked at him, slowly., then nodded.
So there was only one small problem left –
Only that problem turned out to be rather more difficult than he had believed it would be.
“You are not really going to let him go alone!” Joan exclaimed.
“Robbie just –“
“You can’t!”
And he realized, that he had once again – although probably for the last time after this – been thinking of Mrs. Strange and not Joan Thursday, and that he recognized that determined glint in her eye. It had been the same when Val and Lyn had first come home and he had been scared stiff of holding his own baby; his wife had shaken her head and put her into his arms and that had been that.
“We’ve been with you until now and we’ll be with you till the end” she said, and Morse looked… almost nostalgic for a moment? Robbie couldn’t be sure.
“It’s too –“
“I swear to God, if you say it’s too dangerous – that’s what so many people have told me over the years, and you know what? For a whole, I actually believed it – that it was better to settle down and not take risks after all, to feel safe – but where would that lead me? No, we’re going with you, and that’s final.”
He would have expected the Morse he knew to protest, to put his foot down, but this one simply shrugged helplessly and asked, “If there is a way I can convince you to –“
“None.”
And Morse turned back to Robbie and shrugged, as if to say, Sometimes there is nothing one can do.
Since he could not threaten them, nor implore them or beg, there really wasn’t.
And so, he took a deep breath and turned back to –
But the Sphinx wasn’t there anymore.
Instead, there was something that might even have been called a door.
“Well then, we better go and take a look.”
“From what I know of Dad, that’s more something that Morse would say.”
Neither of them answered as they passed through the door.
They had no idea what the second test would be, of course not, and the third one would only happen when the second was passed – they, or rather Robbie, must have gotten very lucky with that riddle because normally there was no way that he would have made it…
There was no way to tell where they were, either. The place around them seemed to be changing,. Shifting at all times, like the Nothing in that book Robbie had read to the kiddies last week; but it didn’t matter, did it, when he thought that he had been the one to bring those two here…
God, he wished more than anything that he could go back in time, and wasn’t that ironic.
Joan – he was tempted to say of course – tried to make them feel better (naturally, Morse was looking worried). “That wasn’t too bad. If the other two are like that too, we’ll have you back home in no time.”
He was silent because it seemed like the best option – he could hardly tell her that he didn’t think they would be because every trial was supposed to be different when things were like that. If they had all been questions, they would already have been asked…
“I’m not sure that –“ he then began and suddenly, music started playing.
Not the kind of music he was used to during his cases with Morse, the one he’d been hearing in his place, too – no this was – it did sound sort of familiar, the kind of thing you’d hear on the old timey radio stations that Val was fond of, but other than that –
“The Wildwood” Joan and Morse said at the same time, and he turned around, utterly surprised, because if there was one thing he wouldn’t have expected from his governor…
“The Wildwood?” Yes he thought there had been a band of that name once –
“Means it’s for me” Joan said, “Unless you’ve suddenly become a fan, Morse?”
He looked like – the best way Robbie could describe it was a man who desperately wanted to lie but knew it wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Thought so. Well then –“
“Joan –“
“Only ever in such a moment, eh Morse?” she took a deep breath. “Well. I accept or whatever I am supposed to say, so –“
And now, Robbie knew exactly what they had felt like a short time ago because he couldn’t move.
It was a bit like watching TV; only it was nothing like that because why should anything make sense.
He was standing still, but he could see Joan advance towards a – well – what was that –
He really wished he could have asked Morse, but was sure that he was once again as incapable of moving as Robbie himself.
He had to admit that at least that thought was sport of funny – Morse would undoubtedly hate it that he was forced to remain still for so long.
Wait – now he could see –
Joan was standing in front of two doors.
It was difficult to concentrate on what was going on – in fact, Robbie would never be able to say with complete certainty what had happened, but that was something he had to get used to when it came to this adventure of his – but it seemed she had to decide which one to go through.
How this would help was anyone’s guess, but –
It became difficult to see which was probably because all of this had to do with magic and whatnot, but Joan hesitated – and why wouldn’t she, Robbie was already wondering where she would go, two doors, what could that even –
And then she grabbed one, opened it just the tiniest bit and let go before turning to the other.
Clever girl, he thought, if she found that the other door was dangerous or crazy or –
But she passed through and there was nothing else.
He could feel Morse’s worry even though he couldn’t look at him.
Not for the first time, he wondered what would happen if either of them –
How would they even know if Joan had succeeded, or what they should do if she didn’t? and just –
There was a scream.
To his surprise, in the next moment, Morse was at his side, clearly struggling against the bonds that held them – he didn’t get much farther, but still –
And then another door opened out of nowhere and Joan landed in front of them.
She was shaking and –
Robbie still couldn’t move, although with a tremendous effort he managed to turn his head, but Morse was at her side immediately. “Joan!”
“I’m fine” she spat out, shaking his hand off, only to prove that she wasn’t when she tried to get up and stumbled into his arms, cursing. “I want to be fine, bloody –“
Morse held her, and she stopped trembling; and he swallowed as his muscles finally obeyed him and he ran to their side.
“Is –“
“Don’t ask” she told him, “Don’t ask.” Only to mumble, “Everything I never wanted, and I just gave in because it was safe –“
“Sorry?”
But she shook her head, then buried it in Morse’s chest, clearly surprising him, and he stared around with wide eyes –
He was remembering the Bank Heist, Robbie thought, recalling one of the stories he had alluded to.
She seemed to do the same, since she stopped trembling then looked up at Morse with a small smile. “Always the same with us, hm?”
“It would seem so” he somehow managed to reply before clearing his throat and announcing, “Which means it is time for my test –“
She took a deep breath then stepped back.
“I – “ Robbie began, but Morse shook his head.
“You two did what you had to do, so now it’s my turn.”
Joan shook her head. “Always doing the right thing?” she asked with just a hint of her usual playfulness returning.
“Trying and failing, most of the time” Morse agreed with a half-smile. “So I –“
And then the voice – the voice of the sphinx – speaking to them from above. “Endeavour Morse, it is time for your test.”
And despite everything, Joan, who by now had gotten a hold of herself, exclaimed, “Endeavour?”
Another pained smile. “My mother was a Quaker –“ then he stepped away from her, “But there are – well – there is the test – “ he cleared his throat. “I am ready.”
But what could it be, Robbie wondered – he had had the riddle (and really he’d gotten off lightly), Joan had had to deal with something in her past, and Morse –
Morse –
Morse looked around. “I assume that soon a door for me will – “
But instead, a statue appeared in front of them.
Robbie didn’t know for sure, naturally, but he thought it was Greek or Roman.
All he could say for certain that it was a woman, she was dressed in the way one would expect, and she was holding a mirror.
“What –“ Joan began.
“Veritas” Morse said because why would he not., “That’s Veritas, the Goddess of Truth.”
He actually looked worse than that time they’d followed a clue onto a roof and he’d collapsed.
Robbie needed a moment to understand why, but then – “So you just have to tell the truth, right?” he asked, trying to make it sound like it was nothing.
“I wouldn’t even know about what” Morse said coldly – our at least attempted to.
“I can think of a few things “Joan immediately declared. “All those cases no one ever told me about –“
“Miss Thursday –“
“Oh, so now it’s back to that?”
Morse looked at the floor – well what they could that – or the walls -. Same thing – or the ceiling – again – before suddenly bursting out with “I followed your father to Blenheim Vale.”
Joan blinked at him. “I thought that was Jim Strange –“
“After I told him we had to go there. I was – that was why they arrested me immediately. I was there.”
“You poor sod” it burst out of Robbie despite having heard that story before.
“And – well – fine” Morse took a deep breath. “It’s no secret I drink too much, and I never manage to keep people around for long.”
Except for me, Robbie thought sadly. Even when they had literally not yet met he and Morse worked well together.
And so it continued.
And the worst part of it – even as Mose looked guilty and uncomfortable as he told them and whoever wanted to hear all about his life – was that it was – so very much not bad. Yes, he was morose and clearly didn’t always know how to talk to people, and if he made friends more easily, he would have had it easier, but in the end, all that remained was – a decent man who had been beaten down so often he had already given up on anything good happening to him again.
When he fell silent, the voice, the voice from the sphinx.
And that is all?
Morse looked around, then his face hardened, and Robbie recognized this expression from years from now and just knew that no matter what –
And then a gun appeared in front of him: there was no one holding it, but what did that matter when it was clearly loaded and –
He acted before he could even fully comprehend what he was thinking, which led to some shuffling because Morse had already pulled Joan down on the floor but Robbie wanted to shield them both whereas they were trying to save him too…
And then a shot rang out.
At least he had been through things like this before – how many policemen could say a murderer had made them dig their own grave? – and so he rolled, or tried to roll over them, but was once more (as Morse would have said) thwarted because, as Val would have said, not a single one of them seemed to have a sense of self-preservation…
The shots had come to rapidly, he realized, he’d lost count –
But then Morse shot up and grabbed the gun, calling out, “There’s nothing else there so we should be safe! Although you –“
They got up, naturally. There wasn’t anything else to do.
Morse looked at them both and shook his head; however, when Robbie glanced at Joan, she looked decidedly unimpressed.
“What do you think you were doing?”
Morse was still breathing heavily, looking as if he might be sick, therefore proving that he wasn’t nearly as relaxed about the whole thing as he had tried to be, but in typical Morse fashion, he shrugged as if it was nothing – and in not-typical Morse fashion tried to make a joke out of it. “Since the gun was out of ammunition, I was sure I could take it without repercussions. Well, this time I didn’t know for sure there was a bullet left –“
Only to abruptly stop talking when Joan exclaimed, “This time!?”
“I – I mean –“
“The Bank” she breathed. “You actually – you were actually ready to take a bullet for me.”
“Well, yes, I – I mean” he stuttered., “Anyone would have – “
Robbie of course knew what he meant. He wondered if he should say something, after all –
Not that it mattered because all of a sudden, she reached out, grabbed Morse’s collar, and –
Robbie had already come to terms with quite a few things, but that he was now responsible for the future wife of his superintendent kissing his governor would not be one of them.
He looked away so he would not see Morse’s face when they pulled back. It might have been cowardly, but he wouldn’t have been able to deal with knowing how much this might mean to his former governor.
After all – what had – she – they –
Robbie knew what was meant to be. He had lived it.
Morse clearly tried to say something. “I – I – “
She laughed. “Let’s first get Robbie here home, then we’ll talk.”
He smiled even though it was the last thing he felt like doing.
She looked at Morse again – there was something in her eyes that pierced Robbie’s heart, he couldn’t imagine what it did to the other man – and said, “You just told the truth –“
Morse, still flustered, said, “Yes –“
“So that should do the trick, shouldn’t it –“
And there was a door that slowly opened.
They looked at one another, then Joan reached out and touched Morse’s hand.
“So who wants to go first?”
Robbie at least managed to be the one to do so.
He had never bothered to imagine what place – goddesses would live in. There really had been no points, probably because he hadn’t believed in such things.
But if he had, he thought he still wouldn’t have come up with something like this.
There was no – there was no up and down. Things just – no, floating wasn’t the right word either; it was more that they just – were.
Nor did they have any colour that he could identify; when he looked at the others, Joan was glancing around wide-eyed while Morse was frowning at their surroundings.
Lovecraft, he recalled, yes, that was what the place in one of his short stories had looked like, Val had read the passage to him. There was something – the angles – they were not quite right –
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths, wondering if he might get them to finally agree to leave now –
“You certainly are stubborn. Must’ve picked that up from your governor.”
And he opened them to find the woman who had sent him here what felt like a lifetime ago.
He swallowed. “Could you send me back, please?” Why not just ask? After all, there were rules,. And he didn’t belong here –
She laughed. “Just like that?”
He nodded. “We did all the riddles and tasks and whatnot, and now we are here, so…”
“You know, I could just get rid of you for good –“
“No you won’t” Morse said sharply and she looked at him and laughed again and this time, Robbie really didn’t care for how it sounded, but – well – that was what she had wanted all along.
Why don’t I show you –
She’d wanted to hurt him by showing him a young Morse who still had the chance at a happy life, and she had succeeded.
And he saw in her eyes that she knew, and she knew very well.
And yet Morse was right – those were the rules, and she was bound to obey.
Or at least as much as she was forced to, since she then said, “You do realize if you or your governor ever come after me again –“
He nodded; he’d already guessed as much. “Doesn’t mean you can just do what you want in Oxford though” he then said because someone ought to, wondering if he was making a mistake -.
Again a laugh. “You really are one of a kind, Robert Lewis.”
Since he had always considered himself a rather normal bloke, especially in comparison to people like Morse, he had no idea what to say to that.
“There may be a few surprises waiting for you”.
He frowned. “My –“
“You do know your stories. Your wife and children are waiting for you, as they were, I can promise that.”
Oh thank God.
“So then – fine. I have to admit at least this has been fun.”
Talk for yourself, he thought before he could stop himself, and he had the feeling that she knew, for she laughed yet again.
She raised a hand and he quickly said, “One moment, please.”
After all he couldn’t just disappear like that, not with –
That was it, then, He was going home – he was actually going home.
And even though it wasn’t, when he turned to Joan and Morse, it felt like farewell instead of goodbye.
Robbie knew he should probably not have said anything. Everything was already decided anyway, it ought to be –
And yet –
“It was mighty kind of Morse to jump on top of me – of us really. Would you tell him once I’m gone? I think he’d just forget everything again if I tried.”
Joan frowned, glanced at Morse, then nodded, looking pensive, as if she hadn’t kissed him and they hadn’t been holding hands. He was starting to think those two had never had a chance, if not been a godly intervention…
As he was about to turn around, she surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. “Take care, Robbie.”
“You, too.”
“Ah” she chuckled, “Where would be the fun in that?” And she glanced at Morse again.
Robbie found himself thinking that, whenever he happened across Mrs. Strange again, he would miss that open expression and happy glimmer in her eyes.
But there was nothing to be done about it, so he turned to Morse. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Anyone would have done the same” Morse said because of course he did.
“They wouldn’t, and you know it” he told him because it was the truth.
“Robbie’s right” Joan announced and Morse blushed, of course focusing on her rather than Robbie, for a moment anyway, before he turned back to him.
“Still, despite everything, it’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
He bit his tongue when he was about to reveal that this was not the last time they would speak, but he might already have done too much, when he thought Abouzt what…
Don’t think of it, man. You get to go home, and you’ll the kiddies and Val again, and that should be all that matters.
Only its very much was not, because he had come to see a whole new – or rather old – side of Morse in the last few days, and everything he had only ever assumed when it came to him – what a decent chap hew as deep down, even if he would never say so in front of Morse – had been proven right – and he knew with absolute certainty that he deserved so much more than the lot he had been given.
But there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do so he shook his hand.
“Who knows” Morse then said. “Maybe we’ll see each other again. After all, what are twenty years?”
He swallowed.
Morse smiled that self-deprecating smile. “I can’t say I blame you.”
Oh God, now he had completely misunder –
“He can hardly give you any tips on what’s going to happen, can he, Endeavour?” Joan then asked, prompting both of them to stare at her, but she shrugged.
“It’s no worse than I imagined.”
Morse looked like he would rather not know what exactly she had imagined his name was.
“Anyway, I think we really should have that drink now, because I have questions..-.”
Robbie had never thought that a man could blush and pale at the same time, but for some reason, Morse managed to do just that. “I –“
He cleared his throat. He couldn’t help him there, no matter how much he might want it. “I’ll be going then.”
Morse looked at him then, and he was surprised to see honest regret in his eyes – the kind of emotion he had so far only seen that one time, when a murderer had dragged him into the woods and Morse had thought he was –
But all of that was yet to come, as would many –
Robbie knew even as he did that he should not have done so, but he drew him into a short hug.
Morse stiffened, of course, and Joan giggled, also of course.
And then he heard the bell.
He stepped back and smiled at them both, then nodded.
Morse nodded back; Joan simply smiled encouragingly.
Morse’s sad eyes were the last things Robbie saw before everything turned black without warning.
And then he woke up on the street he had disappeared from what seemed so long ago now.
He didn’t stop – he didn’t think – he simply rushed to the nearest phone booth; almost failing of getting the paper out because of his shaking hands –
It was the same day he had left.
The wave of relief he felt almost made him feel sick.
He was home.
“Sir, do you need help?”
He turned around.
“Oh” PC Berry immediately said. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Lewis, I didn’t –“
He waved a hand around even though he would have much rather have huffed the man. “It’s fine. I just finished up an inquiry around here.”
He nodded, as many of those at the station more than content to leave things be because he was working with Morse – Endeavour, he thought for no reason at all, remembering that still easy smile, his heart growing heavy –
Gone, now. No, not gone – like Joan wasn’t gone – she was just Mrs. Strange –
“Do you need help, sir?”
Was he just imagining it, or was the man unusually polite? Not that he normally wasn’t, but there was something about the way he was talking to him –
He was most likely still a bit shaken, nothing to worry about, he decided. “No, no, thank you, Constable Berry. Just been a long day – Can’t wait to get home.”
He nodded sympathetically, and allowed Robbie to leave.
A part of him gad never expected to see their house again, he only realized when he was standing in front of it, staring at the lights in the window., For a moment, he feared that when he went in, Val and the kiddies wouldn’t be there, that there had been some kind of magical change… but he couldn’t just stay here, so he did what he always did and –
“Dad!”
Lyn ran up to him, followed by Mark, as always not far behind his sister, and he took them both in his arms, his heart beating wildly.
“Daddy!” she squealed when he squeezed a bit too tight, and he took a deep breath before letting go, then kissing Val.
He didn’t know how to tell her. Of course he had to. He couldn’t keep such a secret from her. But how to make her believe – how to make her understand – how to –
First he had family dinner, trying very much and failing not to think of En – Morse, of Jo – Mrs. Strange, as they had been and how they were now, one of them most likely drinking alone and the other fluttering from event to event while her husband…
She’d been so passionate about her work, too, he thought, his heart growing heavy.
But then Lyn and Mark laughed and he felt himself relax, and Win took his hand, and he knew that for some reason he, Robbie, Lewis, had been blessed with everything a man could wish.
It would not have been his Val if there had not been…
But for now, he had dinner, and he spent time with the kiddies – Lyn demanded three stories that night, and of course Mark followed suit – and only allowed himself to well and truly relax when he and Val sat down in the living room for their usual drink.
He took her in his arms. It was all he could do.
“Robbie?” she asked after a moment or two because she knew, of course she did, that something was wrong.
He took a deep breath and let go before saying, “There are a few things you should know, pet…”
Even as he sat down on their sofa, a drink in his hand, he could already feel himself starting to forget, his mind shutting out what it insisted was impossible, but –
The Morse that had been did not deserve to be forgotten, and their adventure had been such a tale as people long ago would have written down as myth… to use language his governor would have appreciated.
And so, he told his Val everything, everything he had seen and heard and felt –
And everything about the people he had met.
If it had been anyone else, they might not have believed him – but it was his Val; and so she simply listened and finally said, “Thank God you came back.”
“I couldn’t have done it without – without Joan or – or Morse –“
Val, being Val, looked away as he described young Morse – so different, so vulnerable, and so alone. “The poor boy” she then gently said of someone who had, after all, already been Robbie’s age even in the past. “How I wish…”
“Me too, pet, me too” he said quietly, thinking of said young Morse, and how, deep down, he really had not changed all that much – it was one of the reasons he enjoyed working with him. Chief Inspector Morse was still decent, still believed in doing the right thing, he was just much more jaded now…
He looked out the city and wondered if perhaps, now that he had seen its past, it would –
But no – no, Oxford was what it had always been.
He took Val into his arms and said a prayer of thanks.
The very next morning, he would realize that things were not that easy.
He had overslept – small wonder after everything – and resigned himself to being told off as he made his way into the office.
Val had told him to do his best to act like always, after all, no one knew.
In the corridor, a young woman with chestnut hair and eyes that seemed strangely familiar, although he couldn’t put his finger on it, greeted him with a happy “Good morning, Segreant Lewis!”
He met so many people in the course of his work that he did not recognize her immediately, but she seemed familiar, so he greeted her warmly enough in order not to insult her, and she skipped away with all the enthusiasm of youth.
He smiled a little – she reminded him of Val, when they had first met…
But he couldn’t afford to waste even more time.
However, when he entered their office, Morse simply raised his head and smiled. “Ah, Robbie. Good morning. A little late, aren’t we?”
“Sorry sir, had a bit of a late night –“
“Yes, yes, of course” he waved his apologies away. “It’s not like we have a pressing case anyway.”
Robbie blinked. He didn’t think Morse had ever been so cordial when it came to –
“First things first, you look like you could need a cup of tea –“
He was about to nod thankfully and get one when Morse actually got up and left the room.
Wait, he was –
Robbie sat down heavily at his desk. What was going on?
Surely, he told himself, it was just a fluke. Another one of those things people had talked about in the Quarter… time and space and everything in-between, that sort of thing. When Morse returned everything would be normal, completely, utterly, wonderfully normal –
But instead, he came back carrying not only a tablet with two cups of tea, but also a few biscuits on it, and when Robbie took him, he realized his shirt had been carefully pressed and his tie was somewhat of better quality than what Morse would usually wear.
Nothing about this made sense.
Until it did.
He had been doing his best to focus on the report on the Nicholas Quinn case when the phone rang.
It was Val.
“Don’t say anything – no, wait. Just say, Hello Pet.”
“Hello, Pet” he said obediently since he could tell from her tone that there wasn’t an emergency – although she did sound confused.
“I – again, don’t react, don’t say anything, but – I just met Mrs. Strange. But she was not acting like Mrs. Strange at all – I think something’s changed!”
“Wha –“ he managed to save himself into a coughing fit, which prompted a concerned look form Morse, which did not make things easier at all. “I see” he said.
“No you don’t but – well – I know how this sounds but – she was so… friendly.”
Somehow, he was still too surprised from that first blow to visibly react, which was probably for the best.
But Val was clearly waiting for an answer, so he replied, “How is she doing?”
There, now they could be talking about his auntie for all that Morse knew… apart from the fact that the clever and, as of yesterday, usually suspicious man was clearly doing his best not to listen in to a private conversation.
He was starting to get a headache.
“She is…” she hesitated for a moment then continued, “You do remember I’ve seen her before?”
“Of course.”
“I – I almost – she doesn’t seem – for one, we ran into one another when we were shopping, just like that. And she asked about the children, and she reminded me of Endeavour’s choir next week and she was altogether so much more –“ but then Val, with her usual reticence to say anything negative about people she did not know quite well, broke off.
Robbie cleared his throat and replied carefully, staring at the cup of tea and the biscuits in front of him, “When it comes to changes, I don’t think she’s the only one”.
“What – “ she guessed, of course she did, remembering exactly what he had told her. “Chief Inspector Morse?”
“Oy”. She would know he couldn’t speak openly about it right in front of the man.
And she did. “I know you can’t – just say yes or no. Is it a good change?”
“So far”. It wasn’t yes, but she understood.
“I don’t think there is… just keep your eyes and ears open. I’ll do some research. There have to be people who know about this kind of thing…”
He wasn’t too optimistic, but he didn’t have the time for a lengthy discussion, and if someone could do the impossible, it was his Val, so he agreed and hung up.
All he had to do was get through the next day.
This was, of course, easier said then done, because everything was since he had been sent back in time – even thinking those words – if he hadn’t seen what he had done constantly, he would probably have thought he’d gone mad…
But no – here he was – with Morse – the Morse he remembered so very well – simply not being the one he remembered at all, but instead friendly, polite, affable –
More than once, one of the colleagues he could have sworn usually avoided their shared office like the plague when Morse was around came in to ask for advice (which was understandable given how clever DCI Morse still was, that was something that had not changed) or for some good-natured gossip (that very much had changed – back in – he could have sworn Morse had had no idea that DC Palmer had gotten married, and now as soon as he saw him he asked if “Carol had enjoyed France” referring to his honeymoon) or just because “they hadn’t see you in a while” (and they referred to Morse quite as often as Robbie when they said it, too.)
Fine. He had to do something, of that he was sure, he just didn’t know what, exactly. After all, Morse was… Morse seemed…
Morse looked… happy. At ease. Comfortable in his own skin. All those things that he would not have associated with his governor of old.
And if it was so – what right did he have to rip all of that away from him again?
From them, really, for he was fated to see even more of the family than he already had.
Sometime in the early afternoon, a young man entered the office, grinned at him as he called out “Sergeant Lewis” with the same peculiar pronunciation Morse had always favoured when he wanted to make a point, then drew the governor into a hug. “Dad, look at that –“
And he handed him a letter.
“Well” Morse drawled, his tone belied by the sparkle in his eyes, “I do hope you don’t expect me to be surprised, Robert Morse.”
It took him a moment to understand –
And then it all came crushing down in one moment.
Mrs. Strange. Val hat met Joan, but Val hadn’t met Mrs. Strange. Not at all.
Val had met Mrs. Morse.
And the two – the young woman and this –
They had to be –
Robert.
They had named their son after him.
Now, he tried telling himself that it might just be a coincidence, but it just didn’t seem likely…
“Robbie, are you alright?” said Robert then promptly asked, proving that the whole Sergeant Lewis business was far from set in stone, even when it came to the younger folk. “You look pale.”
“Feeling a bit under the weather” he forced out.
“You’re working him too hard, Dad.”
“I’m not doing anything, some people just take their work seriously, that’s all –“
“I did just get into Lonsdale! And you are one to talk – Mum has to hunt you down when she wants you to rest during a case, and you know it!”
“I was referring to –“
“I’ll take the trash outside when I come home!”
Morse laughed – the carefree, happy laugh that still took Robbie by surprise whenever he heard it – and hugged him again.
But, and Robbie would later think that it was only the shock of it all that had made him forget, this was still Morse, so of course he kept a close eye on him for the rest of the day and, sometime in the late afternoon, he announced they were going to the pub.
Some things at least didn’t –
And then he joined Robbie to have a glass of orange juice.
He took a gulp of his own.
Only to thoroughly regret it when Morse looked at him and asked matter-of-factly, “You just came back, didn’t you? From the past.”
Next thing he knew, he was busy patting his back so he didn’t suffocate. “Sorry. I really should not have said that while you were –“
“It’s fine, sir” he wheezed out and Morse chuckled.
“Sir when we’re alone? This must really have been quite the trip you made, and I say that as someone who remembers the parts where we helped out”.
“I –“ he hesitated. “It’s all so –“
“Confusing?” Morse ventured forth when the pause became too long, and oh God, now he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by being silent for a while –
He nodded because it was the safest thing to do.
“I assume so. It can’t be easy – Joan and I needed quite some time to wrap our heads around it after you’d left, too. And back then, we had no idea whether you’d even made it – we just hoped that we would one day – and well – “ he smiled “we had a lot to talk about, and eventually I found the courage to ask her out for dinner again” after what Robbie had seen? That was the young Morse he had come to know “and she said yes. The rest, as they say, is history, but of course we still wondered… and then I entered that pub and there you stood, questioning witnesses. Almost knocked me right over, as our Robbie loves to say. I quickly realized you had no idea who I was yet, and all our friends in the Quarter agreed we had to wait and see… when you came in this morning white as a sheet, I assumed that you’d either caught something or it had happened, and when I saw how you reacted to our boy, I was sure.”
“Robert” he said carefully.
“Yes. Robert Endeavour Fred. Joan wouldn’t hear of anything else.”
He nodded because he really didn’t know what to say.
Morse’s eyes – softened. That was something he really hadn’t seen often.
(Only he had the feeling that he had, in this new reality of his).
“Baba Yaga said it would be a while before you got your bearings once it happened…”
“She’s still around?”
Morse chuckled. “Don’t let her hear you say that. Still as sprightly as she’s always been. And of course… they do live longer than humans, you know.”
He did not know, but he should –
“Robbie, like I just said, it will take a while. You’ll just have to be patient, that’s all.”
And that from a man who, last that Robbie remembered, had never been patient in his life.
But of course, children were the best way to learn patience, he knew that very well –
He nodded.
Morse actually reached out and patted his shoulder. “All will be well, Le-wis” again that twinkle in his eyes. “Joan’s better than me at explaining this kind of thing, she can answer all your questions at dinner.”
And with that, he had to be content for the time being, especially because they had to return to work.
Where he was soon receiving calls from the Quarter, asking “Endeavour” or even Robbie himself to drop by and “let them know how they were doing” or “see that all was well after you helped us” or “get blessed again, it’s been a while.”
If you had told Robbie a week ago that this was what his life would –
But every time he felt overwhelmed, he looked at Morse and saw him smiling as he finished off a file or write a message to someone or raise his head to inquire if Robbie needed anything, and he knew that he had done the right thing, whatever that was.
It would take some getting used to, of course…
But, as Val had once told him, wasn’t it always easy to getting used to things being better than they had before?
Years later
“Oh, and I found this in the new shop on Temple Street –“
“I thought you wanted to go to London today –“
“Yes, but I met Joan when I was on my way to the train, and when we got to talking she told me that new shop would have everything I could need, and she was right –“
Robbie suppressed the urge to tell her I told you so, mostly because he was more than happy that his wife hadn’t had to take an unnecessary day trip.
“We had coffee of course, and she couldn’t reach Endeavour, so you’re to tell him they’re having dinner at our place tonight.”
He had tried – well, he and En – DCI Morse had both tried to keep things professional, but with Val and Joan getting on so well, and their children always happy to look after their own little ones, it simply hadn’t worked. There had been a few comments about it here and there – Superintendent Strange wasn’t all too pleased that Robbie was happy to stay Endeavour’s bagman, but then, he was usually annoyed when he had been fighting with his wife (he was on the third now, that Robbie was aware, and treated them all much in the same manner, so he wasn’t holding onto too much hope) so they had learned to ignore that for the most part. Doctor DeBryn, at least, was happy to help them both whenever it was necessary.
“We’ll try to be punctual”.
He had never been able to keep things from Val, and he most likely never would be, for she immediately asked, “Is it bad?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that, just complicated.”
As if things could be anything else, when they involved the Quarter.
He had been surprised when he had learned that another effect of his adventure, as Val had dubbed it, had been that Mo – Endeavour and Joan had been looking after the Quarter, so to speak, for years now. This these days naturally also included Robbie, but he didn’t mind one bit – magical folks deserved an adequate police force just as the next man, and if some of them occasionally hinted at certain things he was rather sure they should not have been privy too, that was a prize he would gladly keep paying.
This also had the side effect that everyone who knew the Morses was adamant that they were not yet ready to lose their connection to the police so that his DCI was able to simply postpone his retirement every year, something Joan always answered with a laugh.
Really, Robbie was far from sorry for it, advancement be damned, and Val had agreed when she had seen how happy it all made him.
And so, he settled down on the sofa as the kiddies (now no longer kiddies, of course, no, both of them busy with lives of their own – where had the years gone?) came in demanding his attention, Val getting them drinks, and thought that all in all, life had worked out rather nicely.