Winter our discontent (RP)

There was no way Emma was going to risk getting her new dresses suffer even a single drop of rain. If they had to wait a little for the taxi, so be it. Harrod’s underground car park was warm and insulated, as was the one below Covent Gardens. They could easily make the entire way warm and dry.

She stood just a bit close to him as they waited, gaze fixed on the distant driveway watching for the taxi to appear. "How are your parents?" she asked not really because she was interested in knowing, but for the sake of nostalgia.

Persephone presses her case with Duane, trying to persuade him to give her the information she wants, in exchange for her help in freeing them both.

Emma did have a warm relationship with Henry’s parents, and his mother in particular. She always told her how she liked her best out of all the others. She never approved of her son’s philandering, and hoped he might somehow end up settling down with Emma one day. She kept in touch with her even after they broke up; they were practically neighbors, and since Emma regularly went back to Bellingham for Christmas every year, she ran into Henry’s parents on more then one occasion.

"Yes, those were his parents" she confirmed "They were visiting for a few days, so I showed them around. Took them to see a play, lunch. My writer’s circle" his question reminded her of something she has been meaning to ask him. He dodged the issue last time, but maybe she would get him to open up now "How did you know I was there? I never posted about it online, or anything of the sort. Have you been following me?" she asked with a hint of concern, though she couldn’t help but feel flattered at the same time.

Emma was relieved to find out he wasn't stalking her. And disappointed at the same time. It would have been flattering in its way, if he had gone out of his way to find her. His explanation made sense, aside the part where he said he was chatting with some members of her author's circle. She thought he would have better things to do with his time than talk with aspiring writers. It wasn't like him to waste his time on anything that didn't benefit him personally.

Oh well...

She didn't expect him to open the door for her when the taxi pulled up. Arms full of bags, she opened the door herself and climbed in, scooting over so he will have room to sit next to her "Where are you staying now?" she prodded him, maybe more curious than she would admit to herself "Still living by yourself?"

Persephone sighs. Of course he doesn't know anything. They wouldn't give a flunky access to sensitive info. Ok...Let's see if I can find someone who does know something...

She says, "Well, first of all, ignore that screen and let me know the name and contact info for your supervisor. Don't worry! I'm not going to report you! On the contrary, I'm going to see about getting us both out of these positions, ok?"

"Knightsbridge?" she was genuinely impressed "You’ve really done well for yourself."

She didn’t ask what he did with all that space. He clearly didn’t need it, so it was probably more about the address than the square footage.

"We’re in Soho now" she volunteered "I love the neighborhood, but the flat is tiny. I wouldn’t mind a bit more space. Maybe once my writing really takes off…" She glanced out the window at the rain, a bit more thoughtful, holding her bags closer to her chest.

Persephone writes down the number and replies, "OK, thank you, Duane. I'm gonna let you go now... Just try to go back to your normal day, ok? I'll be in touch. I guess I'll call you here?"

Persephone's heart sinks. He's just a student. A kid. God I hate this organization. She says, "yeah, you get to class; have a good day at school. Oh, uh, who's Cassian?" Clearly Persephone does not get the joke.

She gave a small nod when he mentioned property prices, though inwardly, she was already bracing for the moment their landlord decided to raise the rent. It was only a matter of time if the market kept climbing. Must be nice, she thought, not to constantly worry about money. Henry’s so-called storm damage had probably cost more than her entire year’s rent.

Best not to dwell on it.

"Yes; that’s why I agreed to this weekend ‘retreat’ at the Lanesborough. That gentlemen’s club of yours looks like a front for an infernal cult" It was oddly easier to be honest with Henry about her research than it was with David. Maybe because she figured Henry wouldn’t take it seriously anyway. "I’m actually looking forward to it" she paused for a moment as she gave it some more thought. This could be the perfect opportunity to question Henry about some of the people she met at Claridge "That man who introduced himself as ‘Sin’... do you know his real name? What he's about?"