I WOKE TO THE sunrise peeking around the edges of the large train door.
“Welcome back,” said Gavin, startling me from my relaxed position propped against a barrel.
“Gavin,” I whispered, struggling to my feet in the moving train. “How did you …? What are you doing here?”
He sat comfortably in the shadows of the train car still unlit by the sun, his suit impeccable and Italian-made, his long legs drawn up so they tented and his arms hung between them.
“I might ask you the same thing,” he answered, looking up at me with those eyes that could see so much. His cheekbones were less pronounced than when last I saw him, the Austrians must have fed him well. There was a silver pin on his lapel I didn’t recognize, featuring a male lion holding a trident.
“Me?” I demanded, stepping forward and nearly losing my footing as the train seemed to curve around a sharp corner. “I’m chasing a murderer and evading being wrongfully thrown in jail for … what do you have to do with this, anyway?”
“What makes you think I have anything to do with this?”
The train swerved again, and my shoulder took the brunt of it as I hit the wall of the train car.
He didn’t stand, or try to help me, and seemed unaffected by the violence of our shared journey.
“This is a dream,” I said, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. “That’s why you can understand me.”
“I always understand you. And I’m not surprised you continue to dream of me,” he said, his mouth lifting into that mocking grin I used to love. “I do the same. We are connected. Whether we like it or not.”
I squatted down so that my centre of gravity would give me the stability he seemed to have, but felt no more secure. He, on the other hand, looked like he was part of the train car, he moved in unison with the shaking and swerving.
“Dreaming of you means nothing,” I replied, dropping to my knees to try crawling closer to him. “I just saw your photo in a newspaper. You’re in my mind, but you’re not relevant. If you are part of this, I don’t see how and I don’t see why.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” we said in unison.
A particularly hard turn slid me into him and he caught me between his legs, his arms wrapped around me in a way I remembered well and not without fondness. “I’m not the man you should be worried about,” he said, softly now, his breath on my face. He kissed my forehead.
I woke with a jolt.
“Who’s Gavin?” asked Lancaster from beside me, a question I read from his lips because the silence had returned in my waking state. He looked better for resting, a light line of stubble tracing his jaw, his eyes less sunken. He was eating an apple with one hand and patting Nerissa with his other.
“My ex,” I said, experimenting with my speech.
He nodded, reaffirming that my mouth was saying what my brain wanted it to say. I couldn’t count on it remaining, but I would never take that ability for granted again, even if it seemed less reliable than the return of my hearing. I reached into my pocket and was only mildly surprised to find that my package of pills was missing. They must have been lost in our rushed escape. I had failed in so many ways tonight, not the least in returning Brian’s medicine to him.
“We need to get off this train before it reaches Cardiff,” Lancaster said, getting up to pull on the train car door. It slid open to reveal the brightening countryside.
“We should jump as soon as it slows down into the station,” I suggested, looking out at the countryside dotted with farms.
“That seems to be imminent. We’re slowing down already,” he replied, glancing at Nerissa.
“I’ll go first,” I said. “If I know Nerissa, she’ll be right behind me, but if she doesn’t …”
“I’ll get her out,” Lancaster promised. I squeezed his hand in thanks. I was relatively sure she’d leap after me, but in case she didn’t, I didn’t want to leave my dog to the mercies of whoever was waiting for us at the Cardiff station.
I waited until the ground stopped whirring past me at an unseeable speed and leapt, hitting the ground hard and rolling immediately to try to distribute my re-entry. Nerissa made a much better landing a few feet in front of me, racing to my side with a look on her face like, “Next time, warn me, would you?” I pushed myself upright, feeling the bruises that would pattern my body within hours, and watched Lancaster land in much the same way as I did. Before I could do more than help him up, he and Nerissa turned to look ahead of us, where the train was pulling into Cardiff. The police had found us and were running our way from the station where they had been positioned. This was not going to be a clean getaway by any means.
Lancaster led the way, his stride outpacing mine, Nerissa fully able to overtake him, but choosing to run at my side. Lancaster might have been calling for me to keep up as he ran, but Nerissa suddenly stopped mid-sprint, her nose pointed at the forest to our right.
“Lancaster,” I yelled, pulling at her collar. “Wait!”
Nerissa took off at full speed in the direction of the woodland and I had no choice but to follow her, calling her name the whole way. If she was after a rabbit … No! From the density of the wood I saw a horse emerge carrying the elegant figure of a woman. She rode out just far enough that I could see her and then expertly backed up so that she was again hidden by the distinctive birch trees. I laughed aloud as Nerissa made the edge of the trees, panting, waiting for me to catch up. My grandmother had arrived.
In a trice, we were all on horseback, my grandmother leading the way through the forest, her loyal body man, Jenkins, bringing up the rear, Nerissa running at my side. About fifteen minutes into this run we made it to an old dusty Vauxhall 30 parked behind a barn and then we were back on the road, Lancaster in the passenger seat next to Jenkins and my grandmother holding my hand in the backseat as Nerissa lapped at a bowl of water, having had the hardest escape but for the horses.
“Oh, my dear, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” were Irene Adler’s first words to me. She said them aloud while writing in a notebook on the seat.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” I replied, covering her hand to indicate that she didn’t need to do that anymore.
“Your speech …!”
“I know. I can hear you again, and for now, you can understand me, though that basic skill seems to come and go to be honest,” I said, glancing at the front seat where I could see Jenkins and Lancaster were eyeing each other distrustfully. My grandmother meanwhile pulled me close and I sank into her arms, enjoying the feeling of safety and sharing the responsibility of the situation. We weren’t alone in this anymore.
“I hardly need ask how you knew where to find us,” I said. “Did Brian tell you the Yard knew we were on a Cardiff train?”
She released my hands, her mouth compressing into a thin line that made it harder to read her lips. “We will discuss Constable Dawes soon, but for now, I have other sources at the Yard who alerted me to the ridiculous plans to apprehend you. I knew better than to think you would be fool enough to roll right into their hands on a train, so I picked my spot where I thought you would make a hasty exit. I was about a mile off, it turns out; you should have jumped when you saw the safety of the trees.”
I don’t think I’d ever heard my grandmother refer to Brian with such anger in her eyes.
“M’lady,” Jenkins said, turning to face us from the driver’s seat. “You said you wanted to get out with the young miss here.”
“Yes,” my grandmother agreed, her eyes on the waterfront where two burly men approached the car. “You will meet us tonight?”
Lancaster had put his hand on the passenger door handle, but Jenkins said something I couldn’t catch and he withdrew it. “We will,” Jenkins answered, turning to face me so I could see his answer. “And we’ll take care of Nerissa, don’t you worry.”