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It had been a rare sunny day in London and the employees of the Dead Boy detective agency had grasped the chance to go to the nearby park with both hands. Or rather almost all the employees, as for a change the lone figure staying behind at the office was not Edwin but in fact Charles.
The younger boy – if only because he had died roughly seventy years after Edwin – had foregone a walk in the park to have a rare moment to himself in the office that had been his home for almost thirty years now. Over the past month, the boy had realised that a moment of solitary occasionally did not have to be a hindrance to his mental health but could in fact be used rather efficiently. There were a lot of things he had to think about, some new developments but also all the things he had shoved into the back of his mind for four decades. Turns out the girls were not a fan of Edwin’s and his favourite form of therapy being suppression. And turns out that maybe a bit of vulnerability and a good round of thinking once in a while did have their benefits. It had gotten Charles a boyfriend after all.
On said day, when Charles yet again used his alone time to contemplate his past trauma, a new client made their way to the office. While Charles was surprised to hear the knock at the door, he still greeted the woman who entered the book-filled room.
It was one of the rare occasions where he sat in the grand chair behind the desk, usually reserved only for Edwin but he decided that it might make a good first impression if he stayed there instead of jumping up as if the new client had just caught him red handed doing something he was absolutely not allowed to do. (This was obviously an exaggeration as Edwin had no problem whatsoever with Charles occasionally using his chair. He only drew the line at greeting clients in any other seating arrangement than Charles half sitting on the desk. Charles was pretty sure Edwin just liked having him right next to him.)
The woman seemed to be in her later forties, her face looked almost youthful, but her clothes betrayed that she had probably died around 1930. Her dress faintly reminded him of how Edwin had described the woman's fashion of his time, just a bit more…modern perhaps. The dress was a bit shorter, and the cut a bit simpler.
Honestly, the only reason why he even noticed that was because Niko insisted that fashion history could be helpful for cases and maybe Charles has gotten a bit too invested in it. Sue him, the eighties had clearly been the height of fashion but there was a certain fascination about learning about the topic (If Edwin relentlessly teased him that he would have gotten books on the topic sooner had he known it was the one thing that made Charles read then Charles allowed his partner the fun). The woman’s hair was a darker brown and curled around her chin. But the thing that truly caught Charles’ eye was the countless pieces of jewellery that clearly weren’t from the time the woman had died. At least he was a hundred per cent sure that the festival wristbands were not from the beginning of the 20th century.
A ghost that had clearly gotten around quite a bit, it made Charles wonder what had led her here after clearly having a great time in the mortal plane after her death. The woman accompanied her cheery yet shy greeting with a wave of her hand. It reminded him a bit of Niko’s mannerisms.
„Welcome to the dead boy detective agency, how may we be of assistance Miss… “He trailed off, partially due to not knowing her name, partially due to the sudden thought if that was even the correct address. The woman smiled at him and reached out her hand for him to shake.
„You can call me Beatrice, no need for such formalities. “He shook her hand and returned the smile. „Nice to meet you, I’m Charles Rowland, sadly I’m alone in the office today but feel free to tell me what you need our help with, I will later discuss with my colleagues if we take the case. “
Beatrice sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk and put down a bag on the floor. Charles assumed it possessed similar characteristics as his own since ghosts rarely had use for ordinary luggage. „Well, I should probably tell you why I am here. I’d like your help with finding my son. “
Charles leaned forward and rested his head on his hands. Edwin would have called him unprofessional but since the other boy was not present Charles allowed himself to indulge.
This was by far not the first missing children case they had gotten in the past thirty years. There had been the memorable occasion of ´99 which had involved some rather unluckily coincidences as well as a cursed phone, and of course, their first case in Port Townsend, though it had not involved a client. This promised to be right up their aisle.
„My son vanished in 1916, we never found out what happened to him, if he ran away or if he died and no one wanted to tell us. He was my only child, and it still bothers me not to know what happened to him, it’s actually the thing that kept me here after I died. “Beatrice sounded a bit hesitant as if she were afraid to say something wrong.
„So, you would like us to find out what became of him and then move on to the afterlife? “Charles had assumed the answer to be a yes, instead, Beatrice smiled at him almost sadly.
„I do not have any intentions to move on from the mortal plane, I am merely here to find out what happened to my son. I have spent a long time after my death trying to forget it, I have built my own life in death, but I recently heard of your agency and decided that a bit of clarity would do me no harm, just another thing I can finally come to a close on. “
She sounded almost wistful, and Charles was slightly impressed. They had met a lot of ghosts since opening the agency that had built their own lives here (after all they themselves had too) but it surely took a lot of strength to decide to figure something out after such a long time had passed. Especially since what one might find was not guaranteed to be positive.
„I would just like to note that sometimes it might be easier to live with uncertainty. I cannot guarantee you that you will like what we might find. “The smile sent his way spoke of gratitude and something motherly.
„While I do appreciate that, I am very aware that what happened to him might not be something I would have ever wished for him, but I fear I already failed him in life, I refuse to forget him in death. “
A part of Charles wondered if his own parents ever felt like that. If one day they might die and want to find out what happened to him too. He shoved the thought away before it could drown him. Even if his own parents never would, Beatrice clearly cared enough for her own son to ask for closure. She had even basically admitted to not having been a good mother to him in life. It was more than he expected from a lot of parents. Crystals certainly weren’t like that either.
„Would you like to tell me about your son? Honestly, the case-relevant details might be better saved for later cause if you tell me that stuff now I’m sure to write them down wrong in some way and my partner would make you tell him all of it again, so it’s just easier to only tell it once but I am sure you wouldn’t be opposed to tell me about who he was.“
Only now did Charles notice the fan in Beatrice’s hand, or maybe he had just not noticed her grabbing it from her bag (it solidified his theory that her bag was magically enlarged too, otherwise the fan would have never fit in it). She swiftly opened it in a clearly well-practised movement. It made her sleeve slide back to reveal even more of her impressive collection of bracelets. Charles made a mental note to ask her about them later, he was always interested when it came to music festivals and Beatrice could clearly tell him something about those.
He was ripped from his thoughts when she began to talk. „Well, I had him pretty soon after I married, I was only twenty at the time. My late husband never really wanted children I don’t think, but times were different, and the family needed an heir. That sounds rather impersonal, I know, but it was exactly how he always thought about it, after my little boy was born, he tried his best to never interact with his son more than necessary. It broke my heart to see my little Ed try to get his attention only to be rejected at every turn. He grew up with nannies and housekeepers and it was horrible how I wasn’t even allowed to tuck my own child into bed because the society at the time thought it to be right that way. I wish I had rebelled a little more whilst I was alive, both for me and my son. The only little rebellion we had was his nickname, my husband always insisted that we named him after his grandfather for a reason, but he always said his name with such a weight of responsibility that I just needed to give him a bit of a feeling of childhood. To me, he was always my little Ed, no matter what my husband said. “
She paused for a moment to look out the window behind Charles. Her eyes were longing, and Charles understood it.
„I wish I could have given him more than that, more than a cold childhood in an even colder house but I had no way to change anything, it sometimes drove me crazy how little power I had over my own life. My little Ed loved to read you know, he used to beg for books for every birthday. He was always so interested in everything, he used to spend hours reading up on topics I would have never even thought of. I wish I had sometimes sat down with him and listened to him talk about all the new things he learned every day but somehow, I never did, and it pains me. I fear he must have felt as if I was not interested in him and his life either. My husband always thought he was too introverted and too shy, and I could have killed him for it sometimes. Ed was always fascinated by everything and with every rejection he just became more and more sheltered and isolated. We sent him away to boarding school when he was thirteen, I don’t think he could ever forgive me for that, and I don’t think I can ever forgive myself. After that, I only saw him a few times every year and then suddenly he was gone, and I was only left with my regret over never having been the mother he would have needed. When I was still alive, I liked to imagine that he ran away and opened a bookshop somewhere, obviously, it’s ridiculous but it sometimes helped me to cope with it. Just the picture of him in my head, surrounded by bookshelves, a cup of tea on the table, maybe someone who loved him by his side. “
She swallowed down a sob and Charles suppressed the reflex to hand her a tissue that he didn’t even have. Beatrice looked up at him again, her eyes rimmed red.
„I think he was always afraid of everything; he was always the odd one out and I could have helped him, but I didn’t. I could have told him that it was alright to be anxious in social situations that it was alright to follow your passions and that he wouldn’t have had to be scared of being himself. I’m pretty sure he was attracted to men, you know, and I just know he just added it to that list in his head of what was supposed to be wrong with him and I wish I would have been able to sit him down and tell him that he was perfect just the way he was but instead, I let him walk through his life all alone and scared.“
Charles was having great trouble not crying himself. This reminded him a bit too much about Edwin, a bit too much about himself. He wondered if this was what Edwin’s life had looked like, maybe he had had a mother like Beatrice too, who loved him more than anything else but had never been allowed to show it. The thought just made him want to hug Edwin and never let go.
After they both had calmed down Charles got a bit restless and stood up. Beatrice watched him pace the length of the office for a moment. „Please tell me if I am overstepping Charles, but did you die in the eighties perchance? “
He turned around to her. „Oh yeah, it’s cool, I died in 1989. “Beatrice slowly nodded. „Considering your repeated mention of a partner I dare to assume you are queer, please tell me you did not die of… “
Her voice trailed off, but the concerned facial expression stayed. It took a moment for Charles to realise what she was talking about.
„Oh, dear god, no, fortunately not, it was hypothermia and internal bleeding that got me actually. Why do you ask? “Once upon a time, Charles Rowland would have countered every personal question with a joke or aggression, but that had changed. Beatrice’s concern actually felt quite nice.
„I just know way too many people from that time, I would hate to have to count a sixteen-year-old to that circle. “That actually made a lot of sense. Beatrice had been around for quite a long time after all. „How did you happen to meet them? “
Charles died in 1989 after living his whole life without ever really paying all that much attention to matters of queer people. Sure, he had heard stuff, but it had never caught his interest, especially not since he had been kinda busy with not getting beaten to death. Now, thirty years later, he felt rather bad about never paying attention, but apparently, Beatrice had paid attention and suddenly he grew curious about what she might be able to tell him.
„Well, I had been hanging around the gay clubs for quite some time at the time and it’s kinda noticeable if there are suddenly way more ghosts than you are used to. I met a lot of people during that time, every day there were new people to explain their deaths to, every day new funerals to attend. I actually helped people move on sometimes, but a lot ended up stuck in the mortal plane. A lot of them are still around, you know, but I guess you never really had anything to do with that particular scene, and you made your own afterlife after all. Not everyone can do that as easily, it took me years to find some semblance of home in the afterlife, but it was also rather exciting to meet that many new people, my life in the afterlife grew bigger and brighter. Maybe that’s the only good thing that came of it, that a lot of people found their place only after death. “
Charles had never been someone for philosophy, he had hated the subject in school and got annoyed at all those people talking as if they had discovered the ultimate truth. But Beatrice sounded philosophic and yet Charles couldn’t feel annoyed about it, too busy being fascinated.
Truth be told when he had died the only person he knew had been Edwin and he spent the next thirty years basically keeping it like that. Sure, they had sometimes met other ghosts that had formed friendship groups and even relationships in the afterlife but neither of them had ever had the urge to find something like a community in the afterlife.
They had each other and it had always been enough, and it would always be enough. But still, even if it was not with a big community, he and Edwin too had found their place only after death, their place being right next to each other, always.
„I can understand that sentiment. I found my place here, sometimes I miss life, sure, but I like to think that this is where I belong. “
The green eyes looking at him were warm. „I died in 1931, cancer probably, it took some time to get used to being dead, but it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, after my son obviously. It allowed me to be my own person, to discover who I am, I will never regret dying when I did, it gave me all the possibilities I could have ever asked for. “
Charles had never really thought about it that way before, he had always seen death as something that had taken his possibilities in life, but he could see where Beatrice came from. Death had too given him possibilities he could have never imagined in life.
By the time the clock on the wall read five pm Charles and Beatrice were sitting on the (new) sofa in their office. In all honesty, Charles had absolutely forgotten that this had started as a client meeting. At this point, he had heard a lot more about Beatrice’s life and afterlife and he was fascinated. In return, he told her about his life, about how he had met Edwin, about all the cases they had solved.
They talked about the festivals Beatrice had been on, about all the things that had changed since both of them had died, about all the ways the world was different now, how it was better but also not.
It felt exciting to talk to someone who had roamed the earth for almost a century. Technically Edwin had already done so of course, but he had spent most of it in hell, which was something they were slowly working through, but Beatrice had been there for all of it. Charles was fascinated.
By the time the door opened, and Crystal and Niko entered the office Charles was very glad that Beatrice had no intention of moving on because he couldn’t wait to hear more of her stories. A part of him wondered if he would have been a part of all the things she talked about had he lived to see them, but it was no use thinking about what-ifs.
Crystal and Niko were both more than happy to meet Beatrice, apparently, her personality didn’t immediately make her likeable only to Charles. It turned out, Edwin had taken a quick diversion to visit a local magic shop to stock up on their potion ingredients and surely, he stepped out of the mirror a few minutes later. He pressed a quick kiss to Charles’ cheek as the other boy was standing directly next to the mirror before looking up and almost dropping the bag of potion ingredients in his hands.
„We got a new client, this is Beatrice, we gotta help her find her son. Beatrice this is my partner Edwin Payne, I told you loads about him already. “Charles immediately noticed that something was not alright, Edwin rarely looked this shaken and Beatrice didn’t look any better. „Wait? Do you guys know each other? That’s aces, I mean you did live at the same time. “
In hindsight, Charles had to admit there was probably a reason he wasn’t the designated brains of the operation.
„Charles, sometimes you manage to be incredibly daft. “He had never heard Edwin mutter one of his snarky comments with this little…snark.
Crystal and Niko had apparently decided to not interfere with whatever was happening right now. Charles appreciated it.
Beatrice cleared her throat and tried to straighten her skirt, even though just a moment ago she had looked as if she had seen, well, a ghost, which was accurate.
„Charles, you do realise my name is Beatrice Payne, right? “
Charles wasn’t about to admit that it took him a solid two seconds to connect the dots. When he finally did the only thing falling from his lips was a quiet „Oh, guess we can close the case then “. Beatrice laughed.
