Post by Catherine Sharpe on Jul 31, 2016 4:03:33 GMT
“Inspector Sharpe, are you in need of stopping before we return to headquarters?”
It’s been three years, hasn’t it? Three years since I’ve been at HQ. I’ve been kept up to date, reports of importance coming in to me at frequent intervals; it should be no different than any other day, just like the past. It will be good to see my comrades again. I’ve kept in touch with Ellenora, but it’s a bit different when seeing her again. And Lewis, I heard he had gotten a promotion to Field Detective. He was meant for that anyway.
Rain pelts the car, the incessant drumming acting as white noise. The drops were huge, heavy, thudding on the windshield without pause and drenching the lush, rolling countryside. Slate grey clouds loom overhead, stretching across the sky with no end in sight. Occasionally the blanket of grey will spark and come alight with lightning before growing dim and ominous once again, the thunder then heralding the storm’s presence.
“Inspector?”
Catherine’s hands clutch her mobile, her red lacquered thumbs hovering over the deadened screen. Her brown eyes are half lidded, staring at the back of the passenger’s seat through a fan of long lashes. Her breath is a calm cadence, slow in… Slow out… As her mind drifts off elsewhere than the present.
It will be good to see Mama again; she said she would make her paella again tonight. And Papa. And not as Chief Sharpe, but as Papa. I’m sure he will want to be all work at first, though, and I cannot fault him for that. I do miss being able to report to him directly, face-to-face. It is much easier, and much more secure that way.
The screen of her mobile snaps on, illuminating the dreary cabin. An email. The address is from nobody of importance; it can wait.
“Inspector Sharpe, is aught amiss?”
“Oh. Oh, Piers, I am so sorry. My mind was elsewhere. Can you repeat yourself please?”
“Not a problem, Inspector. I was inquiring if you were needing to detour before we made it back to HQ.”
From the rearview mirror Piers could see Catherine shake her head. Her head of brown hair sways from the motion, and she has to reach up to tuck the full bodied locks behind an ear. “No, we can head straight to HQ. Chief said I would leave with him to go back home with he and mother for the night, so no need to drop my luggage off elsewhere.”
“Understood, ma’am. We should be back into London within the hour. Welcome home.”
Catherine meets Piers’s look in the mirror and her mauve painted lips curl into a kind smile. “Thank you. Edinburgh is lovely, but I am glad to be back. It is difficult to properly work when I’m so far away,” she truthfully replies back.
As Piers looks forward again, focusing on the winding road that began to lead into the more urban areas of the far outskirts of London, Catherine diverts her attention yet again. The outside world whizzes by, trees, houses, buildings of all sorts. She could remember when she left like it was yesterday. The small, privately owned academy was a good reprieve from CAFE in the long run, as she knew it would only make her resume for rising in CAFE that much more enticing. CAFE was her life. She grew up in it, around it. She breathed it. Yet at the same time…
She is what they despise.
But she has it under control. Ever since the shifter attacked and she had gotten terribly unlucky and ‘acquired’ such powers, she had struggled to work on hiding the fact that she, too, had become a shifter. A shifter who, if left unchecked, could easily go on a rampage and attempt to kill and eat others. That was so long ago, and she had plenty of help reining in such an ability to use at her beck and call.
Out of the corner of her eye, a small black speck moves in her periphery. She looks to her right, eyes shifting, focusing on what triggers her to look. A ladybug crawls up the tinted window, it’s direction turning and twisting, but heading toward the top of the windowsill. Catherine reaches out, index finger pressing against the cool glass, halting the ladybug’s intended path. It stops, it’s tiny little antennae tickling the tip of Catherine’s finger. The beetle seems to consider for a moment, but then climbs atop her crimson fingernail, it almost blending into the color. She lifts her hand, pulling her arm back over so she could get a close look at the tiny creature.
Are you still going to be there, my friend? Have they told you they are going to let you out to help me? I hope you think I haven’t forgotten.
The ladybug unlatches it’s elytra from it’s back, it’s wings spreading out in an attempt to fly. Catherine lifts her free hand, her mobile falling haphazardly to the seat beside her, cupping around the beetle to trap it inside. “One moment, silly. I’ll set you free.” Ensuring the thing won’t go anywhere, she hits the control for the window to roll down, and she extends her hand outside. The rain has lessened for the moment, and the car slows on a roundabout. The ladybug launches and flies off. A gust of wind billows through the open window and ruffles Catherine’s hair. She tucks it right back behind an ear as she picks up her discarded mobile, turning it on to go through emails and to catch up on news and business.
It had been quite some time since she had seen her oldest friend. They had been there through thick and thin with her, always present, always watching. She hadn’t realized it when she was younger, but they were there as a protector. Then, she had only thought them as a playmate. But as she grew older, her attentions were drawn elsewhere. It wasn’t as though she did not want to be with her friend, but as she grew up, they grew distant; and eventually they had stopped communicating altogether when she went off to university and then focused on her work with CAFE. Looking back, it was almost cruel what she did. She will apologize soon.
“Inspector, we’re almost there.”
The cityscape became much more familiar as they enter the heart of London. This road they travel she even knew like the back of her hand. It is like slipping on a warm blanket. They will even be going by Buckingham Palace Gardens on their way to the HQ. Catherine can feel her heart rate increase from the anticipation of being home. She shifts in the back seat, turning to her right so she can watch the beautiful white walls of the office buildings that line Grosvenor Road. She stuffs her mobile into a pocket in her grey wool jacket and finds her nude colored heels she had kicked off earlier on the floorboard. She slips those back on, smoothes the front of her black dress, and grabs the strap of her purse.
By the time they make it to Vuxhall Bridge Road, Catherine looks tempted enough to jump out of the vehicle and just walk the rest of the way to CAFE. Piers can see this, and he laughs at her, crows feet crinkling up his eyes as he looks at her through the rearview mirror.
“You’re not at all excited, are you?”
Catherine flicks her brown eyes up to him, grinning all the while. “Not at all, Piers. I’ve got it all planned out in my head. Places to go and people to see, and I will be hitting the ground at a sprint.”
Down Millbank they turn, and up the road they go, finally making it to the drive of the nondescript, yet modern, seemingly boring CAFE HQ. It looks just like any other higher class office space made for the corporate office of some restaurant chain. The moment Piers puts the car into park, Catherine is unbuckled and vaulting out of the vehicle.
“Thank you, Piers! It was a pleasure talking to you. Do take care. Someone will be out to get my luggage shortly!” she calls to him as she is already up the entryway and into the lobby of CAFE.
Catherine’s steps are quick, her heels clicking along the concrete, then the marble of CAFE HQ’s flooring. A woman sits at the receptionist desk, head bowed, fiery red hair pulled back in a bun atop her head. The sound of the sharp footsteps causes her to lift, looking to the new arrival. It takes a moment, but the receptionist’s green eyes fly open wide and she shoves herself up from her seat.
“Catherine Sharpe, there you are!” the woman squawks. Without any hesitation, the woman, clearly plenty pregnant, skirts around the reception desk and beelines it… Waddles… Toward the Inspector before wrapping her in a tight hug. “It has been much too long, darling. You look lovely, as always. Edinburgh must have done you well. Oh, goodness, I am so glad you’re back. We’ve much, much to catch up on.”
“Calm down, Ellenora, you’re going to go into labor and I am not in the right mind to rush you to the hospital,” Catherine yelps back all while smiling ear to ear. “And look at you. How far along now? At least thirty weeks. You’ve only a few more! Braxton, right? Oh, it’s a lovely name, yes.”
The pair of ladies cluck like hens for quite a while until Catherine remembers her itinerary for the day. “Elle, is the Chief available?”
Elle rounds the receptionist desk and looks to her computer, skimming the schedule. “I’m afraid not, love. He had a meeting that is going to last longer than intended. The rest of his afternoon is blocked. And I’m sure you’re just as planned out as he is. Well, while you wait, I know they have gotten the bones of your office back into place. Third floor, room 3B.” The woman leans forward, giving her a sly look. “And I took the liberty of getting you an orchid and this lovely owl shaped candle warmer. It’s darling.”
“It would be my luck the Chief would be in a meeting. Ah, well, I’ve plenty to do. Do you mind to send out someone to get my luggage and take it to my office? It’s Piers’s car.” Catherine adjusts the long strap of her purse around her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch with you over the next day or two. We’ll go take lunch.”
As Catherine steps away with a wave, Elle waves back and prattles on a moment about how that sounds like a wonderful idea and reiterates again how they need to catch up on all the gossip that had been missed over the last three years. Gossip wasn’t a priority for Catherine, but still it would be good to catch up on the personal inner workings of the receptionist’s life and if there had been any developments around the office.
The lobby is open, a wall of windows at the front, colored in whites and tans. A curved flight of stairs lead up to a balcony with a large sitting area and a cafe, but just past the base of the stairs is a set of three elevators. Two to the right weren’t marked anything in particular except for a sleek metal sign that reads ‘Visitors’, which lead to the second floor balcony and to the office spaces further up. However, the one to the left bears a sign that reads ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ along with a card reader lock. Catherine reaches in her purse, grabbing out a single coiled wristlet with a card clipped to the small lanyard. She presses the card against the flat black reader, and the elevator behind the barrier hums to life before the silver doors slide open revealing a dark wood panelled carriage inside. She steps in, the door slide close, and she presses the down arrow. The elevator shudders, then moves, sliding down.
The ride down takes longer than anticipated, but that is only because the basement isn’t one story below the lobby of CAFE. It is three. This is where the public isn’t supposed to go, and it is only for higher ranking CAFE personnel. With a pleasant ‘ding’, the doors slide open, and Catherine steps out into a hallway that is almost surgical in it’s appearance. The hallway is long, not a door in sight until about halfway down. She walks along the length of the hall, passing the first set of doors on opposite sides, then the next. The footfalls of her heels echo in the long cavern.
At the end of the hall, it splits perpendicularly, and she takes the left hand turn. This hall is stunted, being cut short by a large metal door. Card key. It unlocks. She turns the handle, which opens into a large square shaped room which seems to buzz with magical energy. Along each of the walls are three doors, each one protected by both a card reader and a number pad. Right in the center of the room is a pair of desks and a pair of guards. When Catherine enters the room, both men stand up, looking to her expectantly.
“Catherine Sharpe, inspector, number forty-five forty-seven six. Hello, you two.”
The men regard her for a long, tense moment, but then fall at ease and sit back at their desks. “A pleasure to see you again, Inspector. Here to see cell three?”
“I am. Has anyone come to see them? You should have received orders that they are going to be under my care. I am not certain that they have been notified yet.”
The two look between each other. “I believe they were waiting for you to talk to them. You know everyone is a bit leery of it. But yes, ma’am, we did receive correspondence that you would be here.” One of the men pauses. “Are you certain it will agree?”
Catherine begins to step over to cell number three, her card already being held up with one hand and the other hand punching in a sequence of numbers. “I’m not certain, no. Even if it doesn’t, I still intend to say hello.”
A green light flickers on the corner of the keypad, and after a moment of silence, a series of clicks, the dying of a hum, and a final soft buzz sounds. The pair of guards have turned to watch her as she grabs the handle and pull the door open before disappearing inside.
“Hello.”
It’s been three years, hasn’t it? Three years since I’ve been at HQ. I’ve been kept up to date, reports of importance coming in to me at frequent intervals; it should be no different than any other day, just like the past. It will be good to see my comrades again. I’ve kept in touch with Ellenora, but it’s a bit different when seeing her again. And Lewis, I heard he had gotten a promotion to Field Detective. He was meant for that anyway.
Rain pelts the car, the incessant drumming acting as white noise. The drops were huge, heavy, thudding on the windshield without pause and drenching the lush, rolling countryside. Slate grey clouds loom overhead, stretching across the sky with no end in sight. Occasionally the blanket of grey will spark and come alight with lightning before growing dim and ominous once again, the thunder then heralding the storm’s presence.
“Inspector?”
Catherine’s hands clutch her mobile, her red lacquered thumbs hovering over the deadened screen. Her brown eyes are half lidded, staring at the back of the passenger’s seat through a fan of long lashes. Her breath is a calm cadence, slow in… Slow out… As her mind drifts off elsewhere than the present.
It will be good to see Mama again; she said she would make her paella again tonight. And Papa. And not as Chief Sharpe, but as Papa. I’m sure he will want to be all work at first, though, and I cannot fault him for that. I do miss being able to report to him directly, face-to-face. It is much easier, and much more secure that way.
The screen of her mobile snaps on, illuminating the dreary cabin. An email. The address is from nobody of importance; it can wait.
“Inspector Sharpe, is aught amiss?”
“Oh. Oh, Piers, I am so sorry. My mind was elsewhere. Can you repeat yourself please?”
“Not a problem, Inspector. I was inquiring if you were needing to detour before we made it back to HQ.”
From the rearview mirror Piers could see Catherine shake her head. Her head of brown hair sways from the motion, and she has to reach up to tuck the full bodied locks behind an ear. “No, we can head straight to HQ. Chief said I would leave with him to go back home with he and mother for the night, so no need to drop my luggage off elsewhere.”
“Understood, ma’am. We should be back into London within the hour. Welcome home.”
Catherine meets Piers’s look in the mirror and her mauve painted lips curl into a kind smile. “Thank you. Edinburgh is lovely, but I am glad to be back. It is difficult to properly work when I’m so far away,” she truthfully replies back.
As Piers looks forward again, focusing on the winding road that began to lead into the more urban areas of the far outskirts of London, Catherine diverts her attention yet again. The outside world whizzes by, trees, houses, buildings of all sorts. She could remember when she left like it was yesterday. The small, privately owned academy was a good reprieve from CAFE in the long run, as she knew it would only make her resume for rising in CAFE that much more enticing. CAFE was her life. She grew up in it, around it. She breathed it. Yet at the same time…
She is what they despise.
But she has it under control. Ever since the shifter attacked and she had gotten terribly unlucky and ‘acquired’ such powers, she had struggled to work on hiding the fact that she, too, had become a shifter. A shifter who, if left unchecked, could easily go on a rampage and attempt to kill and eat others. That was so long ago, and she had plenty of help reining in such an ability to use at her beck and call.
Out of the corner of her eye, a small black speck moves in her periphery. She looks to her right, eyes shifting, focusing on what triggers her to look. A ladybug crawls up the tinted window, it’s direction turning and twisting, but heading toward the top of the windowsill. Catherine reaches out, index finger pressing against the cool glass, halting the ladybug’s intended path. It stops, it’s tiny little antennae tickling the tip of Catherine’s finger. The beetle seems to consider for a moment, but then climbs atop her crimson fingernail, it almost blending into the color. She lifts her hand, pulling her arm back over so she could get a close look at the tiny creature.
Are you still going to be there, my friend? Have they told you they are going to let you out to help me? I hope you think I haven’t forgotten.
The ladybug unlatches it’s elytra from it’s back, it’s wings spreading out in an attempt to fly. Catherine lifts her free hand, her mobile falling haphazardly to the seat beside her, cupping around the beetle to trap it inside. “One moment, silly. I’ll set you free.” Ensuring the thing won’t go anywhere, she hits the control for the window to roll down, and she extends her hand outside. The rain has lessened for the moment, and the car slows on a roundabout. The ladybug launches and flies off. A gust of wind billows through the open window and ruffles Catherine’s hair. She tucks it right back behind an ear as she picks up her discarded mobile, turning it on to go through emails and to catch up on news and business.
It had been quite some time since she had seen her oldest friend. They had been there through thick and thin with her, always present, always watching. She hadn’t realized it when she was younger, but they were there as a protector. Then, she had only thought them as a playmate. But as she grew older, her attentions were drawn elsewhere. It wasn’t as though she did not want to be with her friend, but as she grew up, they grew distant; and eventually they had stopped communicating altogether when she went off to university and then focused on her work with CAFE. Looking back, it was almost cruel what she did. She will apologize soon.
“Inspector, we’re almost there.”
The cityscape became much more familiar as they enter the heart of London. This road they travel she even knew like the back of her hand. It is like slipping on a warm blanket. They will even be going by Buckingham Palace Gardens on their way to the HQ. Catherine can feel her heart rate increase from the anticipation of being home. She shifts in the back seat, turning to her right so she can watch the beautiful white walls of the office buildings that line Grosvenor Road. She stuffs her mobile into a pocket in her grey wool jacket and finds her nude colored heels she had kicked off earlier on the floorboard. She slips those back on, smoothes the front of her black dress, and grabs the strap of her purse.
By the time they make it to Vuxhall Bridge Road, Catherine looks tempted enough to jump out of the vehicle and just walk the rest of the way to CAFE. Piers can see this, and he laughs at her, crows feet crinkling up his eyes as he looks at her through the rearview mirror.
“You’re not at all excited, are you?”
Catherine flicks her brown eyes up to him, grinning all the while. “Not at all, Piers. I’ve got it all planned out in my head. Places to go and people to see, and I will be hitting the ground at a sprint.”
Down Millbank they turn, and up the road they go, finally making it to the drive of the nondescript, yet modern, seemingly boring CAFE HQ. It looks just like any other higher class office space made for the corporate office of some restaurant chain. The moment Piers puts the car into park, Catherine is unbuckled and vaulting out of the vehicle.
“Thank you, Piers! It was a pleasure talking to you. Do take care. Someone will be out to get my luggage shortly!” she calls to him as she is already up the entryway and into the lobby of CAFE.
Catherine’s steps are quick, her heels clicking along the concrete, then the marble of CAFE HQ’s flooring. A woman sits at the receptionist desk, head bowed, fiery red hair pulled back in a bun atop her head. The sound of the sharp footsteps causes her to lift, looking to the new arrival. It takes a moment, but the receptionist’s green eyes fly open wide and she shoves herself up from her seat.
“Catherine Sharpe, there you are!” the woman squawks. Without any hesitation, the woman, clearly plenty pregnant, skirts around the reception desk and beelines it… Waddles… Toward the Inspector before wrapping her in a tight hug. “It has been much too long, darling. You look lovely, as always. Edinburgh must have done you well. Oh, goodness, I am so glad you’re back. We’ve much, much to catch up on.”
“Calm down, Ellenora, you’re going to go into labor and I am not in the right mind to rush you to the hospital,” Catherine yelps back all while smiling ear to ear. “And look at you. How far along now? At least thirty weeks. You’ve only a few more! Braxton, right? Oh, it’s a lovely name, yes.”
The pair of ladies cluck like hens for quite a while until Catherine remembers her itinerary for the day. “Elle, is the Chief available?”
Elle rounds the receptionist desk and looks to her computer, skimming the schedule. “I’m afraid not, love. He had a meeting that is going to last longer than intended. The rest of his afternoon is blocked. And I’m sure you’re just as planned out as he is. Well, while you wait, I know they have gotten the bones of your office back into place. Third floor, room 3B.” The woman leans forward, giving her a sly look. “And I took the liberty of getting you an orchid and this lovely owl shaped candle warmer. It’s darling.”
“It would be my luck the Chief would be in a meeting. Ah, well, I’ve plenty to do. Do you mind to send out someone to get my luggage and take it to my office? It’s Piers’s car.” Catherine adjusts the long strap of her purse around her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch with you over the next day or two. We’ll go take lunch.”
As Catherine steps away with a wave, Elle waves back and prattles on a moment about how that sounds like a wonderful idea and reiterates again how they need to catch up on all the gossip that had been missed over the last three years. Gossip wasn’t a priority for Catherine, but still it would be good to catch up on the personal inner workings of the receptionist’s life and if there had been any developments around the office.
The lobby is open, a wall of windows at the front, colored in whites and tans. A curved flight of stairs lead up to a balcony with a large sitting area and a cafe, but just past the base of the stairs is a set of three elevators. Two to the right weren’t marked anything in particular except for a sleek metal sign that reads ‘Visitors’, which lead to the second floor balcony and to the office spaces further up. However, the one to the left bears a sign that reads ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ along with a card reader lock. Catherine reaches in her purse, grabbing out a single coiled wristlet with a card clipped to the small lanyard. She presses the card against the flat black reader, and the elevator behind the barrier hums to life before the silver doors slide open revealing a dark wood panelled carriage inside. She steps in, the door slide close, and she presses the down arrow. The elevator shudders, then moves, sliding down.
The ride down takes longer than anticipated, but that is only because the basement isn’t one story below the lobby of CAFE. It is three. This is where the public isn’t supposed to go, and it is only for higher ranking CAFE personnel. With a pleasant ‘ding’, the doors slide open, and Catherine steps out into a hallway that is almost surgical in it’s appearance. The hallway is long, not a door in sight until about halfway down. She walks along the length of the hall, passing the first set of doors on opposite sides, then the next. The footfalls of her heels echo in the long cavern.
At the end of the hall, it splits perpendicularly, and she takes the left hand turn. This hall is stunted, being cut short by a large metal door. Card key. It unlocks. She turns the handle, which opens into a large square shaped room which seems to buzz with magical energy. Along each of the walls are three doors, each one protected by both a card reader and a number pad. Right in the center of the room is a pair of desks and a pair of guards. When Catherine enters the room, both men stand up, looking to her expectantly.
“Catherine Sharpe, inspector, number forty-five forty-seven six. Hello, you two.”
The men regard her for a long, tense moment, but then fall at ease and sit back at their desks. “A pleasure to see you again, Inspector. Here to see cell three?”
“I am. Has anyone come to see them? You should have received orders that they are going to be under my care. I am not certain that they have been notified yet.”
The two look between each other. “I believe they were waiting for you to talk to them. You know everyone is a bit leery of it. But yes, ma’am, we did receive correspondence that you would be here.” One of the men pauses. “Are you certain it will agree?”
Catherine begins to step over to cell number three, her card already being held up with one hand and the other hand punching in a sequence of numbers. “I’m not certain, no. Even if it doesn’t, I still intend to say hello.”
A green light flickers on the corner of the keypad, and after a moment of silence, a series of clicks, the dying of a hum, and a final soft buzz sounds. The pair of guards have turned to watch her as she grabs the handle and pull the door open before disappearing inside.
“Hello.”
