Chapter Text
“Clarence, I’m going home – is everything ready for the appointment we have tomorrow morning?”
Eliza pulls on her coat, stacks a few loose papers on her desk, and pauses, expecting a response. The office remains quiet.
“Clarence?”
She grabs her bag from the chair, steps into the larger office, and finds Clarence seated by the window, utterly absorbed in a book.
“Clarence? Did you hear me? We have an appointment with the new client tomorrow morning. Did you manage to do the preliminary research?”
“Yes, yes, I did, Eliza,” he replies distractedly, his eyes still glued to the page.
Eliza crosses her arms, her curiosity stirring. It’s unlike Clarence to be inattentive to work matters. “What are you reading?”
At her question, Clarence snaps the book shut so fast it’s almost comical. A faint flush rises to his cheeks, and he stammers, “It’s, um, nothing important.”
Eliza arches a brow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Are you blushing, Clarence?”
“No, I... It’s not—”
“Then what is it?” she presses, stepping closer.
He exhales, defeated. “It’s not the book,” he admits quietly. “I received a letter today. From Sophia.”
“Sophia?” Eliza repeats, tilting her head.
“She’s an old friend,” Clarence explains, looking anywhere but at her. “She’s coming back to London in a few days. The book was her favorite—she mentioned it in her letter, and I suppose I... wanted to revisit it.”
Eliza’s curiosity sharpens at the subtle shift in his tone, the way he speaks Sophia’s name as though it carries a special weight. “An old friend, you say?”
“Yes, like you and Inspector Wellington,” Clarence replies. “We grew up together—our parents were close, so naturally, we were too. But when my family moved away, we lost touch. Until now.”
“And she wrote to you out of the blue?” Eliza asks, intrigued.
“She said she’s been looking for me,” Clarence murmurs, his voice almost reverent. “After all these years... I thought she’d forgotten me. And yet, here she is, reaching out. Can you believe it?”
Eliza watches him closely, noting the way his hands fidget and the way his eyes seem to light up, despite his nervousness. It’s not just any friend, she realizes. Sophia is someone who means the world to him.
“I never thought I’d hear from her again,” Clarence continues. “There were times I regretted losing touch, but I convinced myself it was pointless to dwell on the past. And now, after all this time...” He pauses, shaking his head with a wistful smile. “I’ve always been envious of you and Inspector Wellington, you know. The way you two look out for each other, how you just... fit. I thought I’d lost my chance at that kind of connection. But maybe... maybe not.”
The words hit Eliza harder than she expects. Clarence has always been reserved about personal matters, and hearing this confession stirs something in her.
“I shouldn’t keep you,” Clarence says suddenly, his tone brisk. “You should go. He’s waiting for you, I’m sure. Time is precious... Yes, time is definitely precious.”
Eliza hesitates, sensing a deeper meaning in his words, but Clarence has already turned back to his desk, feigning busyness. With a soft goodbye, she leaves the office, his words echoing in her mind.
____
On the walk home, Eliza finds herself replaying Clarence’s confession and the events of the past week. Hearing about William being shot, the sleepless nights at his bedside, the weight of uncertainty—she realizes how close she came to losing him. If things had gone differently, she might have ended up like Clarence, longing for a chance that would never come.
Time is precious.
The thought lodges itself firmly in her mind as she approaches the familiar scarlet door of her home.
____
She steps inside, hangs her coat, and makes her way to the drawing room. There, she finds William standing by the window, a photograph in his hand. The late afternoon light catches the contours of his face, casting a faint shadow that deepens the melancholy in his expression.
“William?” Eliza says softly, hesitant to disturb him.
He turns slowly, his eyes glassy and faraway.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, stepping closer.
He doesn’t answer immediately. His gaze drops back to the photograph, and Eliza recognizes it: one of the few she has of her parents. In it, her mother cradles a young Eliza on her lap, while her father stands behind them, beaming.
“I…I don’t think I’ve seen this picture before”, William shares looking at it.
“Where did you find it ?” Eliza whispers, surprised to find him looking at it.
“Hum…I’ve helped Ivy clean a few cabinets, I believe this was in your father’s room.”
“Yes, I guess so, it’s been a while I haven’t seen it….I have a different one in my bedroom,” Eliza explains, coming closer to him, to have a better look.
“I…I don’t remember what my mother looks like,” William says, in a rough voice.
His words almost break Eliza’s heart; he keeps his head down, his eyes focused on the picture, but she can discern his pained expression.
Moved by his confession and the exchange with Clarence still fresh in her mind, she covers his hand holding the picture.
“I know, she must have been a very beautiful and kind woman…to have such an amazing boy”, Eliza whispers.
William raises his head at her words, unshed tears in his eyes sparkling back at her.
“She died when I was five,” he murmurs. “We were at the workhouse. I believe she had blue eyes and black hair…but I... I have no pictures…. I don’t know anymore…maybe it’s just my imagination." His voice is so low that Eliza must concentrate to hear him : he sounds like a little boy, looking lost and scared….she can’t remember seeing him like this before.
“ I feel bad for not remembering much, you know…it was only me and her, and if I forget her, she’s gone forever”
“You’re not forgetting her, you’ve just shared her memory with me, so I’ll keep her in my thoughts too,” she offers with a weak smile, unsure how to reassure him and wondering what brought such deep and difficult thoughts to him today.
“I….if I died in the raid, it would have been the same, you know…. I would have been forgotten quickly. Even after all these years, I’m still alone.”
His words make her gasp: it hurts her more than anything.
“How…how can you say something like this?” she asks, shocked and hurt.
He puts the picture on the coffee table next to them and looks back at Eliza, surprised by her question.
“It’s the truth. I’ve been alone all my life. I have no parents. No family of my own.”
“What…what about me?”
He looks back at her, with sadness in his eyes. Looking defeated like she rarely has ever seen him.
“I’m your family….and you’re my family. Apart from Ivy, you’re the most important person in my life,” she says with more confidence. “I wouldn’t forget you…and you’re not alone,” she adds, taking a step closer to him.
Then another step, until she stands right in front of him. “You’re not alone,” she repeats with finality and as Clarence’s words about the preciousness of time resonate in her mind, for once in her life, she lets an impulse action take over. She gets on her tiptoes and puts her hands behind William’s neck, initiating the first hug they’ve ever shared.
At first, it feels awkward with his arm in its sling between them and his body rigid against her, and she feels stupid and mortified for a moment. But after a few seconds, he embraces her waist with his good arm and exhales into her neck, his head sliding against her skin.
He crushes into her and breathes deeply, like he is expelling all his pain and suffering from all these years. Like it’s the hug he’s been waiting for, for so many years, to let go of everything and everyone he lost.
“You’re the bravest man I know….but you don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore,” Eliza whispers in his ear, with a soft kiss on his cheek. He nods at her words and mouths a low “Thank you.”
After some time, Eliza removes her hold on him: he takes a step back, regaining his composure, and offering a weak smile.
She smiles back at him, with a twinkle in her eye: “It’s nice outside today, we could walk along the Thames, what do you say?”