Those Voices

Hampgre does have pretty good food; considering theres a 10% discount wherever Issy went. The four teenagers had a table reserved for them at the local pub. The sun was out and the wind was light, perfect day to eat outside.

"So, Hampgre..." Lockwood began, already a terrible choice. "Seems like such a, sleepy town. Nice and quaint."

Isadora grimaced at him, "nice and quaint? Yes. Sleepy though, not as much." She leaned back onto the arm of her chair. "For a town that's been affected with the ghost epidemic just as much as everywhere else, it's very alive." 

George perked up, "I read about the vineyards and town life here. Lots of town activities available." 

"There's always some sort market, festival or just general street party," Isadora smiled. 

Lucy leaned in a little, "aren't everyone worried about the ghosts at night, especially out in the country?" 

"Of course they are," Issy reassured her. "We still have the curfew enabled, and two agency's here. At some vineyards that are a little more outward, they have their own agent on the premise at all times." 

"and you're little 'clinic' is one of those places that is more...outward?" Lockwood made an educated guess. 

Isadora blinked at him and sighed, "yes. Limpwood. It is." That...actually reminded her about something, "speaking about my clinic," Isadora straightened herself, "you are all here on holiday, provided graciously by me, however, the clinic IS at my house, meaning I will be working there at night."

"What?" Lucy choked on her water. "I won't lie, it's risky enough inviting agents into your house, but can't you take the week off while we're there!?"

"If I could I would but that would mean I would loose plenty of progress, including lots of trust from my clients," All three agents perked up, ready to put their voice in, but Isadora held her hands up, "Which! Is! Why! I'm begging you guys! Do not interfere in my business at any point! If I need you're help, then I'll ask personally, but besides that! Please! Don't do anything!" Then glued her eyes onto Lockwood, "I mean it!"

Lockwood sneered, "why you singling me out Granny?" 

Lucy turned her head to him, "really?" 

"You seriously asking that?" George joined in too. 

"Fine! I get it!" Lockwood sighed definitely annoyed, "I won't do anything! Anything else, Graham."

"One last thing," Issy bite the inside of her cheek, "I don't live in my house alone, my brother lives there too." 

"Wait, you actually have a brother?" George was taken back by Isadora's words. 

Isadora slumped a little, slightly hurt actually, "I've talked about him over 100 times! Benny! My older brother!" 

"What's wrong with your brother living there?" Lucy asked. "Is he... a little weird?" 

Isadora paused, "sure. He's a lot weird." Isadora stuttered a little, "B-Benny isn't r-really comfortable with strangers in the house, along with extremely anxiety! Like incredibly skittish and could have a heart attack if he heard a balloon pop anxiety! A-and he's a huge germaphobe!" Isadora was quick with that, a little too quick, "which is why he has Haphephobia!" 

"Haphephobia?" Lockwood questioned. "What's that?" 

"Its a fear of physical touch," Isadora answered. "So one more rule, avoid the attic at all times! That's Benny's bedroom and main area." 

"And if we ever run into him?" George grew anxious himself. 

"Avoid him." She was quick, again, to answer. "Avoid him at all cost." 

Lockwood and Lucy looked at each other for a bit, then turned to Issy together. Lucy asked first, "is your brother okay? He sounds like he needs help." 

Isadora poked the inside of mouth, "he's, a huge, nerd...and a loser....And will die a virgin." She could already hear her brothers voice in her head calling Isadora every curse word known to humankind. "Anyways our foods here!" 

The waitress popped out of thin air with everyone's order on a silver tray. Isadora did promise them the special treatment, and apparently with friendly customer service to. 

"Thanks," Lucy smiled in appreciation, but noticed someone. "Oh, where are the napkins?" 

"I'll grab them," Isadora stood up from her table and back into the pub. 

Isadora didn't even step into pub to see a familiar someone also need napkins. She was out of uniform, understandable; everyone deserves a day off. Her hair was shorter? No, brighter? She definitely did do something different, and it looked great on her. 

Isadora dusted off her dress and tugged some hair behind her ears, and with some pep talk to herself, she strolled up beside her old friend. 

"Charlie?" Issy called out, although a little weak. Charlie turned around, took one glance and turned backed without as so much as a smile. "Wh-what a coincidence you're here as well!" 

"As well?" Charlie's tone was... slightly uncalled for. "Jesus are you stalking me now?" 

"N-no! Never!" Isadora perked up. "A few of my friend from London are here for a holiday! An ya kn-"

Charlie cut her off, "Isadora what was one rule we had?" 

Isadora swallowed sharply, "to only talk to each other if it's necessary..."

"And is this necessary?" Charlie snarled at Issy, quite rudely intact. 

"Does simply saying hello to my cousin count?" Isadora pulled her lips together as her chin shivered.

Charlie turned around with her share of napkins and straws in hand, leaned in a little, "absolutely not." Then jolted away like she was never there. Nevertheless, Isadora swallowed her breathe and faked her small smile.

———

Her home was a quaint english cottage, but was the size of your average suburban home. The windows and front door were framed with iron, odd but necessary. Wildberries from the town mixed in with some lush moss and it covered the aged bricks. Bushes of flora lines the fences and pathway to the front porch. 

What's the possibility that inside smelt like freshly baked cookies?

"Wow!" George was amazed. "You live here?"

"Yeah, Granny," Lockwood took a glance too, "you live...here?"

Isadora poked the inside of her cheek, "and where do you live again, Limpwood? An average townhouse I presume?" 

"It's a pleasant townhouse," Lockwood hissed. "Close to a lovey park."

Lucy pulled up beside Lockwood, "It's so lovely. Like someones grandma would retire here." Isadora lead them all up the walkway, pass the fresh scents of baby's breaths, delilahs and roses. "So it really is just you and your brother? Awfully large for only you guys." 

"Well Benny actually found the place after our parents passed," Issy pulled the keys out of her pocket. They arrived at the arched front door. It was wooden and looked to be aging, but had a fresh coat of forest green paint on it. "Plus I don't have to find a seperate building for my clinic." 

"Oh," Lucy's sympathy spoke for her. "Sorry to hear that."

"It's okay Lucy," Isadora unlocked the door and pushed it open, "It was years ago, and I wasn't even three years old."

Indeed! There was a strong scent of freshly baked cookies. The inside had a nostalgic homely feel to it. Like grandma was embracing you with one of her warm hugs. Warm light green, cream, purples and browns spreaded over the wallpapers with matching curtains, couch covers and throw pillows. A classic fireplace stood up with a '79 television and VHS set. 

"Oh Granny," Lockwood smirked at the interior. 

"It was like this when I moved in," Isadora rolled her eyes. "and besides! It's very comforting for my clients." 

George took a tour around the living room, "dying patients?" 

Lockwood chuckled while Issy frowned, "alive! Clients!  Limpwood! I don't just handle ghosts alone." 

"So you're still an agent?" George wondered.

"I provide other services," Isadora lead them through the living room to the connected kitchen. "Tarot and palm readings, performing seances, mutual communications. The whole nine."

"You sound like the neighbourhood psychic," Lucy gave a small smile. "You a Buchanan?"

Oh, oh what sweet Lucy doesn't know, and how Isadora dodges the question. Every. Single. Time. 

Isadora crossed her arms across her chest. Her double lid, hooded black eyes lost some warmth. Her back tightened into a straight line, "and why would you ask that?" She poked the inside of her cheek. "Do I look very familiar to only one of them?" 

Lucy lost her grin to a confused frown, "Isadora. I wasn't assuming anything because of you're asian-"

"Issy, you don't have to tease her," George strolled up beside Isadora. "She has spent time in London too." 

"Can't be too careless Georgie," Isadora giggled while she watched Lucy's face blush. "There are still those who are closed-minded." 

"Your dead clients?" 

"And alive ones too," Isadora walked up to the kitchen counter and grasped onto a pale cream jug with the words 'biscuit' engraved on it. 

"Its just as rude to assume one's bigotry's yourself," Lucy spoke softly but watched Isadora remove the lid. 

Isadora pointed the open jug towards Lucy, "peace offering?"

Lucy's switched her eyes from Issy's down to the deep cavity of the jug and back up to Issy. She was brave enough, her hand went in. There seemed to be circular objects, rough on one side, smooth in the other with some lumps? Lucy grabbed onto one to pulled out...a cookie! The treat had too much colour plus was large and thick to be store bought. 

George's face lit up like a toddler, "oh sweet! I'd been dying to have your cookies again!" He dropped his bags and jumped over to grab one too. 

"Jesus Christ I really am at my Nan's house," Lockwood sighed to himself, his thumb and middle finger gently squeezing between his eyebrows. 

Lucy spoke with her stuffed cheek full of the scrumptious baked good, "more for us then," furthermore taking another one into her hand. 

Issy placed the lid back on, gaining destained looks from George and Lucy, "come on, I'll show you your room." 

"Room... singular?" Lockwood jolted, just slightly. Only slightly. Isadora ignored him while the other two tagged along behind her, "Graham!? Room singular?!" 

The co. followed while Lockwood begrudgingly forced himself too. Up the stairs they went in the second level foyer, however, something was off. Lucy felt it first, but George mentioned it. 

“Anyone felt that?” He looked over his shoulder.

Shit. Benny.

Isadora had to be quick, “if it helps, the sources of my clients are kept up here, but in a seperate and guarded area of the attic!” Issy nodded, “some of them are Type Twos.” 

“The same attic where your brother sleep?” Lucy poked. 

Isadora smacked her lips together, “like what I said…he’s very weird.” She turned back around like all the agents didn’t feel the presence of a ghost only Isadora could see in the day. 

The bedroom had three single beds arranged like rows, the one in the middle clearly different from the others with its mix-matched bedcovers and simpler bed frame. There were potted poppies on the windowsill and plenty of coat hangers available in the vintage wardrobe. 

It reminded Lucy of her time at Jacob’s independent operation. She wondered if it wasn’t rude to ask to sleep somewhere else. 

“Lucy if you’re wondering if you could sleep somewhere else, I’m more than happy to set up a spare bed in my office?” 

Lucy cranked her head to Isadora who was leaning against the doorframe. Her spine chilled again, “I’m fine. Thank you though. For the offer.”

George threw his bags onto the middle bed, which might be a good idea for the near future if Lockwood and Lucy are to be sleeping in the same room. 

Lockwood took the left bed, “since when do you have an office?” 

“And you don’t?” Isadora quirked an eyebrow. “So much for running a professional agency.” 

“Our office is the living room,” George spoke up. “When we were hiring Lockwood made us go through over 18 tea bags. Barely had any left for afternoon tea.” Isadora chuckled. “Speaking of which, where’s your loo?” 

“Oh! I’ll show you!” She nudged her head out of the doorway. “Lucy. Dickhead. Just make yourselves comfortable.” 

Lucy huffed shortly out of her nose but Lockwood rolled his eyes. 

Isadora took George down the hall to a door with a small window at the top. Engraved on the clouded window was a little cartoon poppy. 

“Just through there is the bathroom,” Isadora pointed, then pushed George in. 

“Hey!” He protested. She followed after him and locked the door. George’s skin began to prickle like a porcupine, “you’re not gonna supervise me weeing are you?” 

“George we’re not at Fittes anymore,” Isadora tried to ignore his ridiculous question. “Why did you pretend to not know who Benny was?” 

“Why didn’t you tell them that Benny is a ghost!?” George retorted. “They’re gonna find out one way or another that this house is haunted.” 

“Benny is only active at night, during the day he’s harmless! You felt him before, it was like a gust a wind!” Isadora huffed. “And he’ll only be active towards me. This is why I only wanted to invite you!” 

“Because I’m not a ‘proper agent’?” 

“Because Benny would know you’re not an actual threat!” Isadora removed that stupid comment. Isadora didn’t tough love George to think down of himself. “I only allowed Lockwood here because you asked for him here.” 

“But you also personally asked for Lucy.”

“My Buchanan psychic hunch told me there’s something special about her, and I feel like I should take a closer look at her.”

George sighed, “one way or another, having agents, powerful ones like Lucy here is going to blow up in your face.”

“It’s only for one week, and at night! You’ll only see or hear him if he wants to make himself known,” Isadora tried to justify her terrible judgment. “He likes to blink in and out of places.” 

“All ghosts do that.” 

“No, I mean literally blinks in and out of places. To me he doesn’t appear like a ghost.”

George cocked his head slightly, “what do you mean?” 

“He looks like anyone else, like an alive person,” Isadora loosing shrugged her shoulders. “At night you could mistaken him as an ordinary person.” Her mind wondered a little. “Someone actually did once. That was hard to explain to Inspector Dorian.” 

“Huh. Interesting,” George was surprised to hear about Benny’s…condition? “When can I meet Benny?” 

Isadora chuckled, “never.” She unlocked the door to the bathroom and walked out. 

George followed shortly after her, “you tell me about these things about a ghost that is unheard of and you expect me not to be intrigued?” 

“And let you run experiments on him? In his own home?” Isadora remembered the skull jar. “Especially not Georgie!”

“Well I can’t really do that with the stuff I brought,” Isadora turned her head to look at him, “okay. I didn’t bring my major equipment.” 

Isadora shook her head, annoyed but still smiling at him. “I’ll talk him, but don’t get your hopes up.” 

George was smiling ear to ear, “too late Issy.” 

George and Isadora’s smiles dropped when they saw a sight only George was common with; Lucy and Lockwood were close, very close. 

The two were sat on Lockwood’s bed, Lockwood’s back facing the door. They looked to be having some sort of intimate conversation. A very intimate one. Lucy noticed them first, and switched over to George’s bed. Lockwood turned his head but fixed himself quickly like a gentlemen would. It was almost insulting how much the two were pretending nothing happened.

Isadora blinked twice, then mumbled to George, “that’s gonna get annoying very quickly, won’t it?” 

“Especially when you’re trying to work on a case.” 

“Oh,” Isadora sighed, “fun…”

Lucy tried to break the sudden awkward silence, “so, Isadora, you said one of your services was performing seances?” 

“Oh yeah it is,” Isadora nodded. “But the spirit has to still has to be mortal realm. So there’s a 50/50 chance it’ll actually work.” 

“Can we watch you work?” George butted in. “I’d love to see how you do it!” 

“Yes, Graham!” Lockwood stood up. He tone sounded condescending, “Lucy and I were just talking about that.” 

“Mhm, sure you were, go on.” 

“Well, it would be fascinating to see how you work with your…clients,” then he pulled a shiteating grin out of his ass. 

Isadora took a glance at Lucy, waiting for some form of protest. She gave none. 

Isadora returned her eyes to Lockwood, “if you’re serious about that, I actually do need some help with a client!”

Lucy stood up, “you do?” 

“Yeah, her name is Rosie Silvar. She used to be a dancer and I’m so close to completing her unfinished business!” Isadora began. “I’ll be doing most of the work, all you guys have to do is sit there and watch. Which is actually perfect cause she needs an audience.” 

“I’m cool with that!” George smirked. “A live performance!” 

Lucy smiled, “sure. If all we gotta do is watch.” 

All eyes were on Lockwood’s answer. He took an gander at all three of the teenagers, little longer on Lucy, but then turned to Isadora with a tired smile, “sure. I’ll watch.” 

Very rarely, Isadora smiled at Lockwood, “very well. I’ll organise it after dinner.” The Buchanan child left three to organise themselves, and hoped down the stairs with a bounce in her step.