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Chapter Text

The sun was beating down on his face and as he awoke groggy and confused, he developed a sick feeling against chapped lips and scratchy throat. Sid Carter put his hand to his eyes and groaned. He was really uncomfortable he decided, he was lying somewhere uncomfortable and as his body scrambled to move, his arm made contact with something hot and metallic beside him with a ringing bang that made his head ache even more. He turned to one side and found he had a metal wall against him. He turned to the other side and his stomach lurched, he could see the whole Kemble Valley laid out in front of him with a 30ft drop between him and the ground.
“FUCK!” he scrambled backwards and looked up. With a terror he knew exactly where he was and suddenly he was stone cold sober. He stared up at the rest of the Chandler Chicken Farms Grain Silo, and then carefully down at the rest of the Derrick Tower he’d woken on. The confusion of how he got there gave way to the desperate need to get to the ground, he didn’t mind heights normally but the idea he had been seconds from becoming a jam splat on the stone farm yard below him had him dry retching.

Sid had just reached the ground, his heart thumping, his hands to his knees, eyes closed and panting for breath, when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he stood up sharply.
“Carter?” DI Sullivan grimaced.
“Sullivan” Sid tried for flirty, tried for cheeky but it was taking all his energy not to vomit so it came out as a breathy pant.
“What are you doing here?” Sullivan asked
“No fucking clue” Sid pointed at the grain silo “just woke up on that bloody thing, think I’m gonna have a heart attack” he turned to the policeman “why are you here?”
“Do you know Oscar Chandler?” Sullivan asked seriously and saw Sid’s eyes dart back and forth.
“Yeah, knew him as a kid, see him about why?”
“Sidney Carter, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Oscar Chandler, you do not have to say anything,,,,”
“What, fucking hell? What?” Sid started
“Come along Carter we can discuss this at the station”
“What makes you think I did it, I’ve been asleep ain’t I?” Sullivan stopped and stepped back from the younger man looking down at his body, Sid followed the gaze, the front of his shirt and trousers were covered in very dark red stains. Sid shook his head, he’d woken at a crime scene covered in blood “Fuck!

Chapter Text

“I’m going to make you a deal” Sullivan told him “fair?”
“Dunno yet” Sid shook his head, his hangover was not being improved by sitting in a set of prison overalls in Kembleford Police Station's interview room.
“You tell me everything you remember, and I’ll get you some aspirin” Sullivan smirked
“I think the Red Cross says I’m allowed painkillers? Ain’t that the Geneva convention?” Sid countered.
“You aren’t a prisoner of war Carter” Sullivan sighed slightly impressed that the young man knew what the Geneva Convention was, but then again lots of things the thief did surprised him. “Tell me why you were at the Chandlers Farm?”
“I don't know, I don't remember” Sid told him truthfully his aching head on the cool metallic table.
“Then what do you remember?” Sullivan asked him
“I was in the Red Lion, then Crazy Malcolm came in” he paused, he certainly wasn’t going to fess up to what they’d been up to “he had a proposition for me so we went to discuss it” Sid coughed “went back to the pub, woke up on a bloody grain silo, 30 ft in the air” he shook his head.
“So it's fair to say you have no alibi?”
“You keep using that word, I don’t think you know what it means?” Sid smirked “look, motive, means and opportunity. I’ve got no reason to do Oscar in, he don’t even gamble, OK I was found on site covered in blood but” he stopped “you ain’t even told me how he died, is that “fair?” he asked.
“I’ll get you some painkillers, and chivvy up your solicitor” Sullivan went and stood up “fair?”
“Fair” Sid groaned.

Sid looked up as Felicia’s solicitor walked in, the man had a face that always read like “why am I only ever defending this idiot” and to be fair Sid sort of agreed with him.
“Mr Carter, murder?”
“Yeah obviously I didn’t do it” Sid shrugged
“Obviously, I would as usual advise you not to say anything, but I understand you already admitted to knowing the deceased and having no recollection of yesterday?”
“Er yeah, fair understanding”
The Solicitor shook his head “Mr Carter, please just let me speak from now on” he came and sat down beside Sid “The Countess of Montague really should keep me on retainer”.

“Carter” Sullivan came in with a file and sat down “Mr Hamilton, how nice to see you again”
“Inspector” The solicitor smiled “my client denies any knowledge of the events of last night, and therefore unless you can furnish us with motive or means, I will ask you release him immediately”.
“He was found at the scene soaked in blood” Sullivan shook his head.
“Was it the victims?” The solicitor asked
“We have yet to”
“Then there is no evidence of wrong doing” Mr Hamilton smiled “Mr Carter hasn’t seen a Doctor”
Sullivan looked confused at the non-sequitor “pardon?”
“My client has amnesia and evidence of injury and yet instead of taking him to the local hospital you have kept him locked up, I would suggest with such hostility means my client would be unlikely to get a fair trial”
“Yeah” Sid nodded.
“Shut it Carter” Sullivan shook his head “If I were to release your client on his own cognizance?”
“I believe he would be housed at the Presbytery Kembleford and under the care of Father Brown, is that fair?”
“Fair” Sullivan shook his head.

Father Brown of course solved the crime, as Oscar Chandler's death was solved as the result of a fall out with his younger brother Noah, nobody really had an explanation for why Sid was covered in blood other than some of it was his, and some of it belonged to the dozen or so dead chickens in the Chandlers Slaughter house where he had originally tried to make a nest to sleep in before climbing the grain silo for a better smell.

Sullivan sat at his desk putting the final reports in the file, and came across Sid’s witness statement, he pondered on the word hostility used by Mr Hamilton, was he really hostile towards Carter, or was it that Carter was just a pain in his side too often. He shook his head, if only the man wasn’t everywhere Edgar turned. Now how was that fair?.

Chapter Text

“How hot?” Sid sat back against the barn wall, his legs drawn up and crossed, rubbing at his temples.
“What? Nah, its legit” The man, boy really, standing in front of him stuttered “honest”
“Pull the other one Gavin, its got bells on it” Sid shook his head “I might, might, be willing to take a punt on it, but only if you tell me the truth, otherwise go and find some other fence” The boy had sort him out in the Red Lion, saying he had something to get rid of, and Sid who was as usual brassic thought he’d give the lad a chance. Now he sat behind the pub wondering what sort of goodies this idiot was trying to offload.
“Alright, it's a bit warm, but I need to offload it” Gavin nodded “and you know how to don’t you and you’ll take a cut?”
“What is it?”
“I left it hidden, by the bowling green, will you come?”
Sid shook his head, in for a penny “Alright” he stood up carefully and adjusted his hat, “show me the way”.

“It’s a goat Gav, what am I supposed to do with a flaming goat?” Sid asked, scratching a day's worth of stubble.
“I dunno, what do you normally do?”
“With a goat, nothing” Sid said reasonably
“But you know I got it off the gypsy’s in a bet” Gavin looked round “I reckon its from one of the local farms, its got a tag”
“Gav, it's a flaming goat, a massive, horned, male, goat” Sid shook his head, “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m definitely not the man to come to with a goat!”
“You must know someone Sid, you know everyone, and it's got to be gone, I’m desperate” He grabbed Sid’s shirt desperately
“How long have you had it?” Sid asked
“4 days” Gavin looked round, “I’m in hell”
“Yeah, I can imagine, where are you keeping it?”
“I’ve had it in my room, but the smell, OH God the smell” Gavin sobbed “you gotta help me”
“How much, how much are you into the goat for?”
“Seventeen knicker”
“Bleeding Hell Gavin, you’re screwed mate” he shook his head “look I’ll give you a hand getting it onto the moor but after that, you’ve gotta give up on the dosh mate, you can’t fence a hookie goat”

The two men watched the goat trot off onto the moor, bleating and binkying off into the distance “Will he be alright?” Gavin asked
“Again, I’m not the expert on goats” Sid reminded him
“I wonder if I should send an anonymous tip to the police?”
“There's a hot goat on the moor?” Sid asked “you reckon Valentine will come out for that?”
“Maybe?” Gavin said “if he thought it was distressed?”
Sid looked at him “for Pete’s sake Gav, its not actually hot?” he turned away “I tell you what next time you have any hookie gear, don’t bring it to me”

Chapter Text

The children were giggling, which was not the greatest as they were trying to keep quiet. They were scrumping in the orchard of the Kembleford Manor House, behind the Presbytery, and the Major was already on the war path after he’d caught them at his raspberries a few weeks earlier.
Sid Carter and Bunty Windermere were if you asked Nanny Langton a pair of utter tearaways so much so the venerable lady who had nursed 3 generations of Langtons from Lady Felicia Montague's Mother, to her niece and foster son, had finally had enough the year previously, and resigned her post. Since then the pair had been somewhat kept in check by the Parish Priest Father Brown and his Parish Secretary Mrs McCarthy, who were reimbursed for this superhuman feat by generous donations to the Church funds and an endless supply of alcohol.

The pair had filled their bag with stolen apples when the Major came storming out of the door, Bunty let go of the tree and dropped carefully into the Presbytery garden beyond, Sid was on the edge of following when he slipped, he should have fallen 20ft into the Majors garden, but as the man watched, he sort of floated carefully and landed on his feet. Sid was about to run, but the Major put out his metal headed stick and tripped him hard onto the grass. Sid yelped in pain as the stick came down again.

Sid sat in the cells angry, Valentine was making him stew and he didn’t know why, of all the things he’d been dragged into the cells for in his decade of life, scrumping was one of the most innocent, he could buy the value of all the apples with the pocket money in the pocket of his dufflecoat. He wondered what made the Major hit him, he also wondered about the burning pain that the stick had left on him, it was like the pain when he’d cycled into the park gates back at the hall. Maybe he had a sensitivity to iron?

The cell door opened not to a familiar face, not Sergeant Goodfellow and his sparkling eyes which Sid always thought could see through him, or Valentine and his weary sneer, but a man Sid had never seen before. He had a smile that didn’t meet his eyes, eyes that were black as whirlpools and made Sid shake despite himself, he shrugged back into the wall, his whole body fizzing with a sort of blue electricity, a strange buzzing filled his ears.
“Mr Carter?” The man smiled “I think it was time we had a little chat?”

“Why isn’t Valentine interviewing me?” Sid asked sitting down at the interview desk, “in fact why am I being interviewed? And if I am, shouldn't there be an adult?”
“I always interview, special cases, Mr Carter, why isn’t it Mr Montague?” he asked, still smiling “do you know?”
This was a point of contention for Sid, he didn’t actually know, his mother Lady Felicia had always told him he was her son, their son, but that the paperwork was tricky. For 9 years, the only life he remembered was at Montague House, the Nursery and Nanny Langton, but he wasn’t Sidney Montague, he was Carter, and in the darkness, in his bed at night, with only his thoughts and bear, that stung. As if he wasn’t good enough, if his mother ever had a baby of her own he would be second best.
“Perhaps” the man continued “you could tell me what you know of your birth parents?”
“I, I don’t know?” Sid swallowed “my mother and father were looking for a baby boy to adopt from Catholic Orphanages and found me?”
“Ah” the man smiled “I know the Montagues somewhat” the man coughed “my name is Daniel Whittaker, and I interest myself when elements of the arcane find their way into the mundane shall we say?”
“Arcane?” Sid asked and then looked in terror as Whittaker, faster than a flash took out a nail from somewhere and pressed it into the soft flesh of Sid's exposed arm “OW OW THAT HURTS” the boy shrieked.
Whittaker smirks “yes it does, you’re such sensitive creatures, your parents Mr Carter are not dead, well not in the way you would understand it, perhaps it would be better, easier if they were?”
“Where are they then?” Sid asks, cradling his burned arm.
“Scrumping wasn’t it, and before that breaking and entering, pick pocketing, tell me Mr Carter do you enjoy crime, or is it all in the pursuit of” he stopped and his grin widened “mischief?”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Sid was feeling angry and confused and he really didn’t like the way the man smiled.
“I think, you like most of your kind are pulled to the mischievous, I think theres voices that tell you to do things because they will be derailing to those around you?” he sat forward “am I right?” Sid swallowed the truth of that with a gulp. “Your parents Mr Carter, are where they have always been, and you’ve always known them to be, tell me Mr Carter, where is it that fairies live?”

Sid wasn’t sure how he ended up outside, away from the police station and running, running so fast he couldn’t understand where he was, he was just running home. Before he even realised he was running he was already at the gates to Montague, tearing up the drive he felt that blue fizzing feeling again as if his whole body was telling him something he already knew “fairy” he wanted to laugh he’d read fairytales, fairies were small pink winged things, pretty dresses and wands. Except, except that wasn’t the fairies Mrs McCarthy told him about, or Father Brown for that matter, Father had read them Midsummer Nights Dream, and Mrs McCarthy told them tales of Brownies, and the Summercourt. Those fairies weren’t pretty and pink, they were venal sharp teethed, human sized, mischievous. Those fairies changed their children for human ones and created worlds for their own amusement. Those fairies would commit crime and fall out of trees without a scratch, those fairies couldn’t be touched by iron. Sid stopped, he was at the door of the nursery looking at the burn mark on his arm in horror.

All his life the pipes behind the radiator in the nursery whispered, he had told Nanny Langron about it and she had told him, told him, it was the fairies. He had been barely able to toddle and he knew, knew where the fairies were. As he’d got older he had dismissed these thoughts, these whispers weren’t really coming from the water pipes that was silly, it was in his head. The little voices that told him to paint his Father’s car with blue paint, the one that told him to climb down the drain pipe. Now he knew, he knew all this time, this was something else.
“Mother, Father?” he called, kneeling down by the large radiator under the window “are you there?” still a logical part of his brain told him he was being an idiot, none of this was true.
There was a noise which if Sid was of a romantic bent he might have called the ringing of bells but rather more sounded like the shattering of glass, and then two tiny miniscule heads popped out from behind the radiator.
Sid stared as the tiny people looked up at him, “is everything OK son?” the tiny man asked.
“Are you, I mean, there was a man, erm, are you really my parents?”
“We are” the woman crawled out of the radiator and stepped onto the carpet in front of him, “and we love you so much”
“I don’t understand?” Sid sat heavily onto the floor “I really don’t understand?”

“We’re Pucks” his Father started sitting carefully on the skirting board “and well, we have a reputation”
“Not unwarranted” his mother chimed in
“Not unwarranted , of being the cause of mischief” he coughed “well not long after you were born, there was an incident”
“A right mess” his mother crossed her arms and it reminded Sid of Mrs McCarthy.
“Maybe, and we were punished” he shook his head “we had our wings removed and our ability to change size, and you were taken from us”.
“Oh baby it was so hard, but your Uncle found some nice people and made sure they took you home, and you’ve been happy haven’t you?”
“But you live in the nursery?” Sid asked “I don’t”
“Well it's not really safe to live in the woods as wingless fairies, so we came here to be close to you, so we could watch you grow” his father explained “we love you so much”.
“Is it you who whispers to me?” Sid asked
“Of course, we want you to grow up to your full potential” His mother smiled “a male Puck in all his power”.
“So a criminal?”
“Well we would say a mischief maker” his father patted him “we’re so proud of you already”.

Back in Kembleford Police Station Daniel Whittaker was being shown the door by Sgt Goodfellow, “I don’t think there's any need for your further interference Mr Whittaker” he said politely “I think we have it under control here” he stepped out of the station and out of side his eyes flashed blue at the other man “you leave my nephew alone, and we’ll see it right”
Whittaker grimaced, he should have remembered the other name for Pucks, was Goodfellows.

Chapter Text

Those who the Gods wish to punish, they give to them everything they want. He can’t even remember that much of his life before, it had been so long ago, he remembered the thunder and wrath and the burning that ripped him from whatever he had been before to this, but most things were a blur of feelings now lost. He did remember his crime though, and that had been a doozy. He was no Prometheus stealing fire to give to man, that would have been honourable and perhaps understandable. No he had stolen the golden grapevine Eos gifted to Dionysus, and she had used her power to curse him, or in her words bless him to immortality. He never could resist alcohol, beautiful women, or a cheeky rob on the side.

He’s lived he suspects at least a thousand normal lifetimes, moving on over and over, never settling, never being allowed to be at home anywhere, the curse forcing him just into ongoing existence. During both wars he’d been in Europe he couldn’t really avoid it, despite the curse his appearance was always that of a tall young man, he’d carried the same face all that time, the same physique, the same cocky smile, the same itchy feet and nimble fingers. He couldn’t really avoid military service, although of all the wars he’d seen, all the death and destruction, these had been the worst, he was exhausted by everything, he just wanted somewhere to hide.

He had found Kembleford by accident, he’d been in London for VE Day and followed a group of demobed squaddies back to Gloucestershire. He’d ended up at the village hall being offered soup and clothing which was nice, but there was something off about it all, and he’d quietly sat on the stage taking it all in. The little priest had come and sat next to him “hello young man, you aren’t as far as I remember one of our returning heroes?”
“Oh erm no sorry, got caught up with these lads at demob, followed them home”
“Oh, well you are more than welcome, I’m Father Brown” he gave him is hand
“Erm Sidney Carter, friends call me Sid”.

Sid was grateful and surprised to find himself offered a room at the Presbytery, he was surprised to find that the Parish secretary was, he understood quickly, a witch. She had the standard power to create healing broth, soups, teas and pastries, and he had wondered if the priest knew, until the day he met “her”.
Lady Felicia Countess of Montague had come to church with an air of self knowledge that had knocked the breath from his lungs, the sort of quiet power he hadn’t seen in centuries. He had been so captivated he went into Mass behind her, and simply stared. There was an aura of power that made him feel weak, and he found himself following her as she left the church as well, she stood beside Father Brown and the priest called Sid over. “Lady Felicia you haven’t met my lodger, Sid, this is the Countess of Montague, Lady Felicia£
“Milady” Sid smiled
“Sid?” she asked
“Sidney Carter, pleasure to make your acquaintance, friends call me Sid” he winked.
“Sid is looking for work, Lady Felicia, I don’t suppose?” Father Brown asked as they stared into each other's eyes.
“Of course” the Countess said
“Of course” Sid copied.

He wasn’t sure when he first noticed, probably after about a month when he looked at the calendar in the presbytery kitchen and realised it was somehow still May 1945, after a few more weekends, a few more Sundays when it was still May 1945 he knew something was wrong. He had been driving Felicia to an event out of the county, it had been a blazing hot May day when they had left Kembleford, but as they drove into Oxford the temperature dropped and suddenly there was snow on the ground, and Sid looked behind him to the Countess in confusion.
“Everything alright Sidney?” she asked
“Milady?” he started “what is the date?”
“Ah yes, in Witney you’ll discover” she shook her head “I think its December 1945”
“Oh” he swallowed “Milady, can I ask?”
“My people call them loops” she smiled “I’m surprised you’ve never come across one given your age?”
He looked behind her shocked, but shook his head “why?”
“Well, usually we do them for keeping things safe, secure, but I suppose the truth is, I don’t really like change” she smiled “this is a new loop, I had to get out of the dreary war, it was beginning to drag” she looked at her nails “you won’t want to leave now?”
“No Milady” he smirked “timeloop hey?”
“I think you’ll begin to enjoy it Sidney, after all immortality must drag on for you?”
“It does Milady” he smirked “it does”.
“After all it really is somewhere for us all to hide”
“All?” he asked
“Perculiars” she smiled “Oh Sid, there's so much for you to find out about”.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in the wide Sargasso Sea, cruising on gentle lee winds the Santa Maria slipped through the dawn light, at the wheel was her Helmsman Sid Carter, a tall rogue with a quick grin and sparkling blue eyes, he had been the second Officer on the Bermudan Sloop since Captain Montague, otherwise known as Lady Felicia, Countess of Montague, wife of the Governor of Port Royal, had begged her husband to let her have “a little ship of her own”. The Captain herself was sunning herself on her quarterdeck, lazing with her book beside Sid’s parted feet.
“Where is Bun?” Sid looked down and asked “I’m gasping here?” He referred to the first officer of the ship, the Captain's 25 year old niece Penelope Windermere, or Bunty to her friends.
“You know she’s studying that silly map she picked up in St Georges Harbour, she’s convinced it's a treasure map” She shook her head “why would a treasure map find itself at a flea market on Bermuda?”
“Dunno,” Sid laughed, “but it could be, stranger things have happened?”
“Like what Sidney?”
“I hear the Countess of Montague has gone Pirate” he winked at her.
“Yes well, treasure or no treasure we need to be back in Port Royal before Monty returns or we’ll all be for the high jump” she shook her head
“It's alright for you, I’ll get hanged, you’ll just get grounded” Sid reminded her.
“You still have a letter of Marque Sidney you’ll be fine” She shook her head “and anyway, we aren’t attacking Royal Navy ships are we?”
“Much”
“Much” she grinned “well Dickie Hambleston deserved it, he’s such a prig”.

Bunty came running up onto deck with her hair loose and a huge grin on her face “Mayaguana island Sid” she panted "that's where we need to go, that’s what this is a map of, I’ve broken the cipher”.
“There's nothing on Mayaguana island Bun” Sid told her “trees and the pirates well, that's it, the Spanish cleared it a century ago”
“And this is when this map is from, from the original islanders, it tells of a fabulous jewel” she stretched her hand wide “oh do lets go” she whined to her Aunt.
“Monty will be returning to Port Royal, by the end of the month, and we really need to be back” Felicia told her “and we’ve been gone for weeks already, we need to pay and release the crew otherwise they’ll mutiny”
“If you don’t relieve me Bun I’m mutinying right here and now” Sid told her indicating the wheel, “I’ve been here for hours”
“Why didn’t you lash it?”
“Have I taught you nothing?” Sid shook his head “out here we have centrifugal currents” he swirled his hand in demonstration “if you don’t keep dead reckoning you’ll end up back on Bermuda or worse in the Carolinas before you know it” he shook his head “take the wheel, and my compass, I’m going for a beer and a slash and I’ll be back to show you the finer points of maritime navigation, again”
“I know” she said tartly “I just forgot”
“You forget, we die” he reminded her “and I can't afford to die, Blind ‘Arry owes me 100pieces when we get back to Port Royal”.

“If we go straight home via the Windward Passage, we go practically straight past Mayaguana island” Bunty showed them the map.
“Again I know how to get to Pirates Well Bun” Sid said “but we need to go home, how long is it going to take us digging up an uninhabited forest?”
“But we have a map, come on Aunt Fliss, we’re pirates, let's get some pirate treasure?”
“We could put it to the vote” Felicia drawled
“Fuck” Sid shook his head knowing if they asked the crew he was definitely going to find himself on Mayaguana island. He sighed heavily “alright, I’ll get the lads together, and Fliss can do one of her buccaneering speeches” he paused “but I still think this is a bad idea”.

The Santa Maria had a shallow draft which was ideal for these tiny islands, and despite Bunty insisting she could Navigate perfectly well to the small bay where the Pirates Well was, Sid loved the little ship she was fast and beautiful, gliding into the tiny natural port was always going to be his job. Sid thought however much he missed sharing Shelley's bed in her chamber above the Red Lion, it wasn’t a bad life this pirating. The crew dropped anchor, and the longboat, pulling ashore on the bleach white sand. Felicia had stepped out holding Sid’s hand for support, and looked around.
“Oooh isn’t it lovely?” she beamed
“Yeah” Sid dropped her hand, and brought his to the Flintlock at his waist “could be anything here?” he warned
“Treasure!” Bunty beamed, “there's treasure here!”
“Somebody be watching us” Blind ‘Arry told them.
“Great” Sid whispered.
Bunty pulled out her map and walked towards the trees, “this way gang!”
“Bun!” Sid started to shout but she stopped dead as a figure moved in the treeline, there really was someone watching them.

Bunty stared at the figure in the overgrowth, “Erm hello?” she waved, and the figure ducked down slightly. Sid came and stood next to her and also waved at the figure. They were stood watching for a few moments when another figure appeared, this one was a small man in a black robe and large black hat came wandering out of the trees and stopped by the hidden figure.
“What are you doing Mrs McCarthy?” he asked
“Pirates!” the woman shouted and the man turned seeing the crew for the first time, he waved and they waved back.
“Hullo!” He smiled “welcome to Mayaguana!”
“HELLO!” Felicia took over stalking past her niece and helmsman “How lovely to meet you, I am Captain Felicia Montague and this is my crew, isn’t this place just paradise?”
“Captain, I’m Father Brown” the little priest told her “and this is my secretary Mrs McCarthy” he gently pushed the older lady from behind the trees so she tumbled out. She was wearing a brightly coloured patched dress, her hair falling long around her shoulders, with a little fascinator hat perched on her head.
“How lovely to meet you” Bunty smiled “have you lived here long?”
“Oh erm 20 years” Mrs McCarthy smiled “Father came to serve as our priest on Adros, and there was a slight disagreement” she smiled “anyway, we’re pleased to meet you, have you had your tea?”

With the rest of the crew now ashore, Father Brown showed them round their island, the vegetable garden, and the goats and chickens, the little wooden church they’d built and the little village of huts they had fashioned in case anyone ever came to visit them.
“Can we stay?” Sid asked feasting on fresh pineapples
“We’d be delighted” Father Brown smiled “it can get lonely”
“We do need to be back in Port Royal” Felicia reminded him
“Oh yeah” Sid looked down at his feast “shame”
“What about the treasure?” Bunty insisted “the map, the jewels”
“Oh yes well we know all about that” Mrs McCarthy smiled
“So there is loot?” Bunty insisted “proper loot?”
Father Brown smiled “when we first came here, there was a priestess of the old religion here, she was very kind, and helped us settle in, she taught Mrs McCarthy the secrets of the island”
“I’ll show you after dinner this evening” Mrs McCarthy told them, and then looked at Sid, “oh look at you with all that round your face, she picked up a handkerchief and went at the pirate with the clucking of a mother hen.
“Oi get off” he complained, making no move to stop her.

“I can honestly say Mrs McCarthy, that was the best meal I’ve ever had in my life” Blind ‘Arry told her “I assume Mr McCarthy has gone to his eternal rest?”
“Sadly so Mr Sloan”
“Ah in which case” the old rogue knelt down “Mrs McCarthy I offer you my hand, and all my bootie if you’d be my wife”
“Oi” Sid punched his arm “that bootie is mine when we get back to Port Royal”
“Come on Sid, I’m in ‘ere”
“You most certainly aren’t in anywhere Mr Sloan” Mrs McCarthy tutted “I’m perfectly happy where I am” she carefully covered the goat stew with a palm wicker lid “now if you’re all fed, I’ll go and get the jewels.
“Jewels?” Sid sat up “multiple?”
“Oh yes” Father Brown smiled “if you ask nicely she might let you take some back to Port Royal”.

The whole crew was sat in silent reverie in the darkening fire circle when Mrs McCarthy returned with a large dish in her hands, her face glowing with a red reflection from the plate in her hands, they all craned to see what she had, and when she placed the plate on the long table they all took an in breath.
“Scones?” Felicia asked
“Yes” Mrs McCarthy grinned “My own special recipe, wild strawberry scones”
There was a slight groan of disappointment, but then Sid reached out and took a scone, shoving it into his mouth, Bunty looked at him as he bit down, and closed his eyes “OH” he mumbled “OH GOD”
“Sidney?” Felicia asked, suddenly serious “are you OK?”
“OH FLISS, BUN it's immense!” tears fell from his eyes “that, I’ve never tasted anything, OH my GOD!”
“Well yes” Father Brown smiled “you see strawberries don’t grow naturally here, but the Priestess told us God himself had come and planted these, her people called them the “jewels of the caribbean”.
The other pirates fell on the scones with gusto, each one losing the ability to think after eating them. Eventually falling into contented sober slumbers of the forest floor.

“Well that went well Father?” Mrs McCarthy told him, carefully tucking Sid under the blanket, and ensuring the other 12 Crew were similarly tucked “do you think they will stay now?”
“No Mrs McCarthy” he nodded “I don’t think they’ll stay,,,,,,but they will definitely return regularly” he smiled down at his new flock.

Chapter Text

DCI Edgar Sullivan was sat in his living room reading the paper, he would admit to a little thrill a frisson at reading about the resignation list of the Prime Minister, the Lavender List was now public knowledge and the outrage in some quarters was amusing to say the least. Not that his interest had spread further than the tiny cottage he and his partner inhabited, it wouldn’t do to gloat, but he had known what was coming for months, as various business men had turned to the occult to get on that list. What nasty little men they all were.
Edgar stretched, despite the fact he stopped actively aging around 20 years earlier, he still got stiff if he sat in the same position for too long. Nobody ever told you the downside of effective immortality was your body still wanted to age, even if it couldn’t. He looked at his watch, and then the clock on the mantlepiece and wondered where Sid could possibly be, it was the first week in June and still light outside despite the lateness of the hour, but it was unlike Sid to be out without giving him warning. It was definitely unlike him to miss dinner.

Edgar went and put the chickens away, looking down over the meadow towards the tower of St Mary’s he smiled, it was a lovely evening, despite his aching and stiff joints he supposed there were worse ways to spend eternity than living in a pretty cottage in the Cotswolds countryside. The soft sleepy boking of the chickens and the scents of the meadow in summer settling his brain. Handing over his soul to the anti-christ wasn’t as bad as fiction had made it seem. The fact that he held the Anti-Christ’s heart in return was rather nice really. He was smiling to himself when he heard the rev of the ancient BSA bantam coming up the lane, the man himself was home.

“Nice day?” Edgar asked Sid, as he pulled his helmet off, “you were later than I expected, work?” He was surprised when he looked carefully and saw Sid’s eyes were black as pitch as his forehead sprouted horns “ah” Edgar patted his shoulder.
“DO YOU KNOW THE DATE?” Sid asked in a voice from the depth of perdition.
“Is it a Sabbath?” Edgar asked “I don’t have it on the calendar?”
“THE” Sid coughed and shook his head the blue returning to his eyes, and a weariness overtaking, his voice returning to something like normal “6th June, 1976” he shook his head “all day, all day occultists have been summoning me or trying too, its exhausting, Eddie”
“Oh darling” The Policeman patted him “come inside I’ve kept your dinner in the warmer”
“Thanks love but” he shook his head as they went inside, Sid divested himself of his jacket helmet gloves and boots. It was only as he stood Edgar saw the blood.
“What happened?” he asked urgently
“Erm, had a slight issue with some bastards” he shook his head “I bloody hate occultists sometimes”
“Want to talk about it, or want to eat?”
“I’ve eaten,” Sid said quietly, and Edgar looked up at him.
“Oh Sid”
“Kids Ed, they were sacrificing kids” Sid shook his head “anyway do we have any digestive biccies I feel sick”
“Yeah love” Edgar patted him “lets not dwell on tonights dinner hey”
“Love you Ed”
“Love you too”

Chapter Text

Sid Carter, village gravedigger, handyman and thief used his natural abilities as an anima badger to its absolute best. He had no compulsion to hide his nature, despite there being a natural suspicion and hatred around animas in general. He did however have some things he wanted and needed to hide. The things he specifically needed to hide were items he had acquired not necessarily totally legally.
Sid had always thought himself probably more badger than man, or maybe just badger as well as man, but his underlying compulsion has been to dig, dig and tunnel. It was that compulsion that saved his life when he was first anima, and it was the strongest tug to his animal nature. He therefore tunnelled and dug himself setts and holts and rests whenever the mood took him. If those could be utilised as crime holes so much the better.
Crime holes, was how he thought of them, some of his holes were den’s for sleeping, and some holes for fun, but the crime holes, those he tracked and kept secure. Each rest was carefully plotted in his brain, he kept them safe, secure, hidden.
Currently one of his crime holes is becoming a preoccupation, he would normally not return to the same rest over and over. It was too obvious, but he feels guilty at this one, this one he really shouldn’t have, it's only for a little bit longer but, he really shouldn’t have it.
Sid’s mind is taken up with removing the item, as he walks towards the woods, and then he sees it, the police Wolesley and he knows, time has run out.
Sid took a breath and transformed, losing his human clothes and shoveling himself into the undergrowth. His hands are claws before he thinks, his mind turning to only one thought, escape freedom earth.
The badger doesn’t think like a human, the badger is a badger, he thinks of his stomach, and his immediate needs and safety, and right now all the badger is thinking off is his rest is under attack. He burrows deeper, faster, the soil falls on his sensitive snout and he pushes it away with his front and back paws, his tail flicking it last. Deeper and deeper, desperate scrambling in dark earth, the tantalising smell of earth worms, ignored with the one badger thought, safety, someone is threatening. Claws hit air as he breaks through into another tunnel, delicate ears flicking to the sounds of digging. The badger doesn’t recognise Valentine's voice, asking his men to dig through Sid’s tunnels, but he does recognise a threat, and growls. The noise reverberates through the earth and the humans stop talking.

“Shit” Inspector Valentine shakes his head “Alright, give it up lads”
“But inspector?” Sgt Albright asks “Its Sid Carter, he’s not”
“Sergeant I’m not arguing with a 6ft 3 badger, we’ll pick him up as a human”
“But he’s”
“Sergeant, Carter may be many things, but what is currently under our feet, is not him”.

The badger hears them retreat, the earth settles and world rights itself. He scratches his snout, and digs further down the tunnel, finding a soft bed of dry leaves and grass, and curls up. The badger is once again at rest.

Chapter Text

Edgar Sullivan was smirking, this was not the usual casual smirk of affection Sid Carter was used to, this was dirty and he was intrigued. His boyfriend had come home whistling, which was also new, and now he was standing in the hallway leaning on the wall, smirking.
“What is it Eddie?” Sid said eventually “what have I done?”
That was nearly enough to make the DCI crack, nearly, instead he bit his lip and sighed “Are you aware police files sometimes come with crime scene photos? Not always, but sometimes?”
“Yeah I guess?” Sid answered cautiously “you found something in my file?”
That was enough a small snigger escaped Edgar, and he had to choke it back “I had to fill in some forms today, and I had reason to look you up in the PNC” he nodded “specifically had to look you up for East Sussex”
“Right?” Sid shrugged “dunno have I a record in East Sussex?”
“Oh yes” Sullivan smirked, “do you by any chance remember being arrested in Brighton?”
“Brighton?” Sid shook his head “nah, I don’t think I’ve ever been to” he stopped “Oh, oh yeah, yeah” he suddenly remembered and then he looked up at his smirking boyfriend “pictures?”
“Full frontal” Edgar shook his head “I’m impressed I imagine the sea was quite chilly? Outraging public decency?”
“In my defence she was a bit of a manic pixie dream girl” Sid laughed and then saw his boyfriend had something behind his back and dived for him “oi! You can’t bring home police files!”
“Oh these ones are for my own personal use” Sullivan tripped off giggling, “I might get them framed” He tripped spilling several large A4 copies of one Sidney Carter, dripping water being pulled out of the evening sea in front of Brighton pier, naked for the world to see on the living room carpet.
“Fuck Eddie”
“Oh yeah, but only after I’ve perused these some more, how very athletic you look, and not a hint of a blush” he held a photo in front of his face measuring against his now very blushing boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Mrs McCarthy was livid, she looked down at the two 9 year olds shaking her head. “Pickpocketing Sidney Carter?” She shook her head once more “I just don’t know what to say?” she looked down at the little girl by his side “and you Elizabeth, did you really think you could lie to me? Why did you even try, you’re in just as much trouble young lady?”
“Sorry Mrs M” the little girl looked up, huge brown eyes watering.
“Hey I was the one who got caught pickpocketting” Sid Carter grumbled “all she did was try and keep you out of it” he jutted out his chin and grit his teeth “she shouldn’t get punished for being a mate!” he nodded.
“I’ll see what Father says when he gets home” Mrs McCarthy told them “Oh having to pick you up from the police station Sidney, the shame”
“Would have got away with it had Vince Lennon not shouted run when he saw Valentine, stupid scrote”
“SIDNEY!” Mrs McCarthy sucked in the air from her teeth, “you shouldn’t be pickpocketing at all” she shook her head “go to your rooms, BOTH of you!”
Thus dismissed the children climbed the Presbytery staircase heads bowed, as Sid got to his bedroom door he caught his friends hand “thanks for trying to keep her out of it”
“No problem” Beth smiled “do you think she’ll withhold dinner?”
“Nah, but maybe pudding?” he shook his head
“Good job it wasn’t tomorrow” she said with mock seriousness “then we wouldn’t get pancakes and I’ve been looking forward to that!”
Sid looked up worried “ Oh I’m gonna thump Vince”
She smirked and he looked down smiling “see you later” she told him, disappearing into her own room.

Dinner had been a subdued affair, although there had been dessert much to Beth’s relief, but after tea the children were told to go to Father Brown’s study and stood in front of the desk shoulder to shoulder, in mild terror.
“Now, I’ve spoken to Inspector Valentine” Father Brown started with a serious face “and he has kindly agreed to drop the charge on this occasion as long as you promise to behave” he addressed Sid, who was rather surprised the Priest had gone out on a limb for him, but was much too shocked to say anything. “But there will have to be a punishment, for both of you”
“Yes Father” came the joint reply
“Now I know you’ve been doing your catechism classes dutifully, in order to receive the sacrament at Whit, and so do you know what tomorrow is?”
“Pancake Day” Sid exclaimed his mind already on the honey and raspberry coulis Mrs M had stored away for tomorrow.
Father Brown smiled despite himself “yes”
“Its Shrove Tuesday” Beth squeaked “when people go to confession” Sid looked at her in surprise.
“You want us to go to confession?” he asked the Priest “make our first Confession, tomorrow?”
“It would be ideal, do you not think?” Father Brown smiled “and then maybe we could go into Lent shriven and humble?”

When the children hadn’t returned from church by 5 Mrs McCarthy was grumbling, Dinner would be late, and Father would be coming back from confession shortly and she assumed they had gone off to play somewhere, without changing their clothes, which considering they were wearing their Sunday best for Confession was worrying her. She stepped out of the Presbytery garden and looked down towards the church, surprised to see a number of people milling about. She hurried down the path, and pushed past the crowd into the church, surprised to see it almost full she saw Beth sat in the last pew.
“Where have you been, what's going on, and where is Sidney?" Mrs McCarthy asked
“Confessing Mrs M” Beth told her, indicating the confessional booth “he told me to go first, as he had a lot to get off his chest, he’s been, well” she waved her hand over the parishioners all in various states of grumbling.
“He’s 9” Mrs McCarthy shook her head “what can he possibly have to confess?”
“I don’t know all of it, but he borrowed my notebook last night, and he’s made a list” Beth looked up “can we have dinner without him, I’m so hungry?”

“40 days?” Sid asked again, “40 days, no meat, no sugar, no sweets, no cheese?” he shook his head “40 days?”
“Its Lent” Mrs McCarthy told him “and as you apparently have so much penance to give, it should be a time for reflection”
“40 days?” he shook his head “there’s got to be alternatives?”
“Hell” Mrs McCarthy told him, passing over the honey “don’t take up so”
“There's cheats, isn't there Uncle?” Beth asked “like days when it doesn’t count?”
The Priest smiled “yes, there are” he nodded “and perhaps if you two would diary them out, it would help you to understand the purpose of the sacrifices we make for Lent, a deeper understanding of Faith” he nodded
“BUT 40 days?” Sid whined once more.

Chapter Text

It was odd being back in Kembleford, National Service and Prison meant he had been consistently away for nearly 5 years, and he’d left a scared skinny 18 year old and returned a pale but well built man in his 20’s. Sid really wanted to prove himself, the new job with Lady Montague, a caravan to call his own, some legit cash in his pocket, even a slightly dodgy van he could use for delivery jobs. He wondered why despite all this going for him, he couldn’t quite get over the feeling he was still the little lad from the Presbytery, the evacuee nobody wanted back. He’d spent the previous night with a rather wicked bank teller, who wore black laced underwear and had, he discovered a tattoo on her inner thigh another lover had given her. He smirked at that, but his stomach rumbled. He had to eat, he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d eaten, he had started to avoid the Presbytery as part of his desire to be his own man, but Mrs M’s cooking sounded pretty good right now. He had laid some bunny traps in the woods, hoping to get enough to flog around the village without having to utilize his meagre supply of 22 ammunition. He thought he’d grab a few and take them down to Mrs M and hopefully she’d feed him without asking too many questions, it was as good a plan as any.

Walking into the woods he had a thrill, the best thing about Kembleford, the thing he missed when he was away was the feeling he now had, like walking on leylines, as if the whole place was thrumming with its own magic, the sound of woodland creatures chattering away, the smell of mushrooms and sight of small flickering light between the trees. When he’d first arrived as a fairly small child, this had seemed like a fairytale, by the time he was 18 he realised how true he’d been. He couldn’t imagine wanting to leave, not for long, it was the best place in the world. He was quiet as he came into the clearing, he was aware not everything in the woods was welcoming, and he had after all laid traps which were slightly on the iffy grounds, but he hoped they’d forgive him, he really was quite hungry. The smell of fresh gingerbread assaulted his nose, and he looked up to see the house, he’d heard about it of course he had, Mrs McCarthy had warned him, and the other kids had whispered, but he hadn’t actually seen the witches house for himself. He was about to turn and run when his stomach gave a treacherous grumble.

Sid wasn’t stupid he knew not to start snacking at the icing window frames, or the chocolate door, he wouldn’t have considered nibbling the humbug roof tiles, or licking the liquorish drain pipes. However there was a note on the door, and he went to have a look.
“I have gone to visit my sister Selina, I’ll be back before tea time, if you have any work for me, please come in and leave your request on the counter”.
Sid opened the door and the smell of candy became overpowering, he licked his lips, the candelabra in the kitchen was made of candyfloss, and he could see where the candles had crystalised the sugar into a globby bright pink mass, the counter top was delicate rock, Even the taps seemed to be candy from the warm smell coming from them. His tummy grumbling he knew he was doing something wrong, he had no request for the Witch, he was trespassing and what's more, he wanted to eat her furniture. The problem was he wasn’t quite able to tell himself to leave. Stepping into the living room his resolve broke entirely. The lamp on the table was lit, the vase of it was a large smartie, and the shade was Turkish delight. Sid, who had lived in Kembleford through decades and decades of sweet rationing, lost his mind. He was chewing through the glace lightbulb when the door opened. He looked up guiltily and saw he was in deep trouble.
“SIDNEY CARTER” the witch shrieked “did Bridget McCarthy bring you up to eat my lamps?”
“Sorry, sorry Ma’am, I just, I really couldn’t help it?”
“Really Sidney, stealing from outsiders is one thing, but I’m practically family, I can’t believe you’d do such a thing?”
“I’m so sorry, I’ll buy you a new one?” he tried, unable to quite stop licking the bulb in his hand.
“Do you think you can just buy candy lamps, I have to magic them Sidney, and it takes a lot, that's three different spells, and it's not like I can have a normal lamp, it wouldn’t run off candid electricity” she shook her head “no you’ve gone too far this time, I’m going to punish you!”
“Oh Ma’am please” Sid started putting his hands up in front of him as the blinding flash engulfed him. At first nothing seemed to happen, then he felt himself shrink, all at once, his clothes vanishing and his whole body seemed to change shape, he looked down at himself and saw nothing but grey fur, he tried to touch his face and leathery claws met snout. “What am I?” he looked up at the now cackling witch.
“A raccoon Sidney, a trash Panda, nature's little thieves, and it serves you right!”
“I can’t be a raccoon” he scratched his ear, “I’ve got a life”
“Not my problem” she picked up her broomstick “now scat!”

Chapter Text

“Am I dead?” Sid asked, looking around, the whole place had a sort of nasty red glow, he couldn’t quite put his finger on but he felt it was almost homely, the sulphuric smell was reminiscent of when he had stomach flu, and a cautious hand to his temple revealed his horns had emerged.
“No, of course not, although that does suggest some ecumenical questions we should talk to your Grandfather about” the creature in front of him smiled, Sid would say creature because this was the most attractive man he’d ever seen barely dressed with huge wings protruding from his back and a sort of pink radiance from his skin.
“Father?” Sid asked, looking up at Lucifer in a sort of awed fear.
“My son” the fallen angel smiled “welcome home”.
“I?” Sid gulped “I’m in hell?”
Lucifer flapped his wings and shrank to a slightly friendlier size and shape “shall we say the Under, or maybe my kingdom, but yes, if you insist Hell, what do you think?”
“Colder than I expected” Sid nodded trying to keep calm “erm, er, Hi, er, not that I haven’t thought about a meeting between us for, well 60 odd years but what do I owe the pleasure if I haven’t died?” He tried to remember what he had been doing immediately prior to this, he and Edgar were having a quiet Sunday in Kembleford, he’d just cut the grass, nothing that could have been fatal surely.
“I thought we should have a family reunion, you have another little brother, who has also decided to delay the apocalypse, and I thought well, perhaps we should have a little tete a tete” The devil coughed and stepping away transformed his visage into that of a business man, complete with a very tasty looking suit and cufflinks he was fiddling with, with his back to Sid however it was hard to hide the tail, an issue Sid sometimes had as well, “how many brothers do I have?” Sid asked, looking round.
“Oh over the years, several, I usually try once every hundred years, but with the Millenium approaching I thought I’d up my game” Satan turned “its the free will you see, I’m all for it as you know, but it does make tricky to get you want to destroy the world and defeat your Grandfather once and for all” he paused “of course don’t tell the Demons this, but it's no great tragedy, the real tragedy is not having a BBQ sooner” he smiled and opened a door that had appeared in a blood soaked wall of heaving flesh in front of Sid, stepping though into an open garden, complete with pergola, swimming pool and BBQ area. There were 20 men and a teenage boy already around the pool all who wore similar looks of confusion and horns. Sid swallowed again hard and raised his hand in greeting, in reply to the others similar hales. “BOYS! My darling sons” Satan boomed like an affectionate patriarch “welcome to our first, of I hope many, family reunions, for this first little gathering I really want you all to just get to know each other, and perhaps if it goes well we can invite partners next time?”

Edgar was somewhat fraught, over the previous forty years there had been several times while dating the Anti-Christ that Sid had been unceremoniously summoned, usually confused satanists, the odd baffled would be Faust, but usually Sid was back in a couple of hours, he usually at least phoned. He’d been gone for nearly 24 hours and the DCI was becoming seriously worried. He’d gone to work at the big new Gloucester Police Headquarters and sat with a missing persons form for a while, the problem with being effectively immortal was always date of birth, but this time Edgar was struggling with “when were they last seen?” They had been sharing a lemonade in the front garden before raking the grass and he’d vanished in a plume of sulfur. In the end Edgar had put the paperwork back into his briefcase and driven home, he was just feeding the chickens when the sky darkened and thunder rolled and a slightly smoking Sid Carter fell upwards in a plume of curling smoke.
“Oh you’re back?” Edgar turned “are you OK, where have you been?”
“Erm, Under” Sid shook his head carefully checking his horns had receded.
“Under?” Edgar looked at him “you mean, under, Under, down there, the other place?”
“Yeah” Sid shook his head “weird afternoon, met all my brothers”
“Oh OK” Edgar shook his head “your Father OK, not another apocalypse on the horizon, no horseman I should be aware of?”
“Apparently he just wanted a family reunion?” Sid smiled “anyway, it was quite nice really?”
“Oh well glad you’re OK and had a nice time, a bit of warning would be nice?”
“Yes, well we discussed that, next time he’ll send invites”
“Next time?” Edgar asked
“Yeah, and next time we’re going to bring spouses, so that's something to look forward to?”
“Yes?” Edgar shook his head thinking, really it wasn’t.

Chapter Text

“DCI Sullivan?” the man on the phone asked.
“Yes” Edgar sat back wondering why on Earth HMP Berwyn, the UK’s largest Prison in Wrexham was phoning him midway through a Friday afternoon “how can I help?”
“Sir, I wonder, we are a category C Prison you understand, we aren’t particularly strict on what prisoners receive you understand?”
“Yes Officer?” Sullivan nodded, still equally confused, quickly googling HMP Berwyn, and then trying to think which case resulted in someone being incarcerated there. “I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, I’m not sure which case this is in reference too?”
“Oh Prisoner H Pawlicki A23473, you sent him a parcel this week?” The Prison Officer asked “did you not send a parcel?” Edgar was about to say no when something clicked.
“Sorry Officer, H Pawlicki? This would be” he paused “Hawke?”
“Yeah?” The Officer hesitated as Edgar laughed, “we wanted to know, well, we wanted to check there was no funny business with this parcel, it's not the sort of thing we normally get sent to prisoners?”
“Yes Officer, its above board, a gift from my husband to an old friend, now he’s nearing the end of his sentence”
“Oh right, yeah, well its erm, interesting, where did you get it?”
“Oh Actually I made it myself”.

When Edgar returned home that evening, he found Sid at the dining table carefully handwriting labels to go round the necks of various hand crocheted animals. Since Edgar had started crochet a couple of years earlier, every Church fete they donated several hand crocheted animals complete with little backstories and names to be sold for church funds. These little creatures also found their way to friends and relatives, and although usually they were chickens sometimes other animals were created.
“Alright love?” Sid looked up from a pink chicken wearing a cowboy hat
“Your friend got his crochet hawk” he smiled
“Oh right” Sid smiled “thanks for that, he’s only got 2 weeks left, thought it would give him something to think about.” he paused “how do you know?”
“Interesting conversation with HMP Berwyn, why did you put my name on the return address?”
“Well if I’d put mine they’d think it was drugs or something” he smirked “what did they think?”
“I’ve been asked to make a Prison Guard chicken for the Governors retirement”
“Oh nice”

Chapter Text

“I wish I may, I wish I might,,,,,,”
1am on the moor outside Kembleford there is a lone figure staring up at the sky, it was all going quite well, till the lights of the Police Wolseley panned across the open space and picked him out. The figures shoulders slumped yet Sid Carter didn’t bother to turn, just kept staring at the sky. He heard the heavy step coming up behind him and accepted his fate.
“Alright Valentine?” he asked
“Carter, I have had several calls about someone loitering up here, and surprise surprise I find you?”
“Surprise surprise” Sid shook his head “not illegal?”
“Loitering ...with intent?” Valentine asked “you’re in court in the morning” he looked at his watch “in 8 hours, what are you doing?”
“Looking for stars,” Sid nodded, “but it's too cloudy?”
“Are you sober?” Valentine asked
“As a judge” Sid laughed “spent a lot of the evening on my knees in St Mary’s, now giving this a go”
“Carter, it won’t be your first spell inside, surely you aren’t worried?”
Sid turned “third go around” he swallowed “gonna get a proper stretch” Valentine nodded, the young man wasn’t quite 24 and indeed likely to go down for his third conviction for theft, he might well get a long sentence, he was surprised the young man was that worried. “It wasn’t even a proper theft, fencing if anything” Sid shrugged “and I haven’t had chance to clear the gutters, and if I go down for a while whose going to keep Mrs M’s boiler going, and I’ll lose my job at Montague, and Father is going to struggle to afford to keep the Church roof patched” he shook his head “stupid”.
“You really worried Sid?” Valentine asked “about, well about Father and Mrs McCarthy?”
“They are getting on, and it's not like when I went down before, I won’t be back before winter will I, who's gonna look after them, you?”
Valentine sighed “it wasn’t really theft, I’ve got no evidence who nicked it, just, had it on you, and you didn’t resist” he nodded “I’ll see what pull I have with Greensleaves, but Sid, you’ve got to promise, you’ve got to go straight?”
“I had” he looked at the Policeman “I was just wrong place wrong time, and well, the lags trust me don’t they, much good it does me”
“Alright, no promises, but I’ll try”
“Thanks Valentine”
Sid smirked up at the sky, he wasn’t sure if it was the prayers, or the wishes, but clearly someone heard him.

Chapter Text

Sid wondered if it wasn’t all that bad back at the secure school after all it was warm and there was food, and he was at least dry. He couldn’t even remember at this point the last time he’d eaten and his tummy was grumbling alarmingly. The train had stopped at Evesham due to a blockage on the line, he’d been barrier leaping trying to get back to London, and so when they were told to leave the train and board a replacement bus service, he had just followed the crowd. Nobody had questioned the skinny 11 year old or asked for a ticket, the harassed staff assuming that the boy must belong to someone. This however was not to be repeated when they reached the bus's destination, a tiny provincial station called Kembleford, where the local police had turned out to help the railway staff check tickets. Sid had slipped away unnoticed as an older lady started asking the Sergeant in charge for details of the compensation they should receive.
Sid, stomach rumbling, looked out over the darkening countryside and saw a church tower in the distance, he thought of the Parish Church of St Martin’s back home, where there was at least wafers and wine, and thought it wasn’t such a bad idea for somewhere to sleep for the night, churches were often unlocked as well. Wandering across the fields he also thought of St Martin’s votive boxes Father Simons had told him the money inside went to help the poor and needy, well Sid thought feeling for his lockpicks safe in his jacket, he was brassic and in need, so God couldn’t possibly mind if he helped himself.
The church was open, and Sid had found that as well as the expected wine and wafers, somebody had hidden crunchie bars in the sacristy and a can on Irn Bru. He thought about the votive boxes, but Sid found that the vestry had a comfortable sofa pushed into the corner, and with a tummy full of chocolate and days of running behind him, he snuggled down onto it, pulling a chasuble over him and fell asleep.

Father Brown was sure there was someone sleeping rough in the church, it had been 2 days and his crunchie stash had been decimated. The first day, he had found the small nest in the vestry and the crunchie wrappers and he’d thought someone had just come and spent the night, but later on in the afternoon he’d heard footsteps in the organ loft when the church should have been otherwise empty, and the feeling that somebody was watching him. So he went to the little shop and bought a selection of ready to eat foods and some drinks. Mr Johnson had asked him if Mrs McCarthy was away when he had loaded his purchases onto the counter, and it had given him pause. If Father Brown wanted to be fed tomorrow he’d better explain to Mrs McCarthy about his sudden splurge.
“But what if they are dangerous?” The Parish secretary had asked on morning number two when the food had been rifled and the drink selection reduced.
“I think if they were, we might have already found out” Father Brown picked up the wrapper of the Matthesons Sausage, which still had a small piece left, and probed the tiny teeth marks thoughtfully, with the weight of the footsteps he’d heard yesterday a picture of their visitor was forming. “Mrs McCarthy” he said quietly “in the clothes donations, do we have any for a child, say around 8 or 9?”
“Well, I’d have to look Father, but” she stopped “8 or 9, surely not?” she put her hand to her mouth.
“Perhaps not, but this person, they aren’t big” he shook his head “perhaps we could have a think about how to tempt them out” he looked up at the organ loft “I’m sure they have stayed around because it was safe”.

Sid had watched the Priest, he now knew the man knew Sid was there, but had thought he was 8 years old which had been a surprise. Sid looked down at his wiry frame, he’d always been a bit small and gangly but surely he was bigger than that. The food was OK though, and he liked the quietness of the church. It reminded him somehow of Christmas Morning when his Mum would be too drunk to shout and there were no cars outside. He’s written a little note on a piece of paper and pen the priest had left in the sacristy “thank you, I’m 11, Sid”.

Father Brown stared at the note and smiled, he carefully placed the pillow and blanket, and the selection of clothes on the sofa in the vestry along with the sandwich, pork pie, crisps and scone. Then he placed the can of coca cola and the 2 ltr bottle of water on the side. He carefully and slowly walked out into the church and sat in the front pew, his head dropped in quiet prayer for a few moments, when he heard the footsteps. “Thank you for the note Sid” he said outloud “I hope there are some things that will fit you there, I can imagine that you could do with a change of clothes.” he stopped “the scone is, I should tell you, one of Mrs McCarthy’s award winning strawberry scones and you are very honoured to be given one”. He chuckled “I always leave the door of the Presbytery open, if the church becomes too cold or lonely, or if you need a bathroom” he paused “and I am always happy to listen”. There was no reply but there was a pregnant silence in the church, somebody was listening. “Anyway, I shall leave you to it, Sid, have a good night”.

“Should we phone someone?” Mrs McCarthy asked the next morning, the pillow and blanket had been found on the settee in the Presbytery Parlour, and the scone plate returned to the sink in the kitchen.
“Who” he asked “we know nothing about Sid, other than he is 11 and he is sleeping in the church, he could be a local child in trouble, or a runaway, or just somebody in need of somewhere safe” he coughed “he obviously liked the scone”.
Mrs McCarthy smiled “poor little boy” she stopped “I’ve got a new toothbrush” she shook her head “and a flannel, goodness knows what state he must be in”
“I wonder if we left a laundry basket he’d fill it?” Father Brown pondered.
“I do think we should call someone?” Mrs McCarthy asked again as she fussed, placing a towel on top of the settee.
“I am very frightened if we scared Sid off, whoever he is, he’d be in a worse situation?”
“Poor boy,” Mrs McCarthy said again.

Father Brown was woken on the 4th morning by coughing, a small pathetic noise, but loud enough to reverb through the otherwise silent house. He carefully got up, wrapping his dressing gown around him, and slipping his feet into fluffy slippers. He descended the stairs, and the coughing became louder, creeping through the house to the parlour door, he knocked. “Sid?” he called “are you ok?” There was no answer but a series of louder coughs and then gasping, so he pushed the door open. The child on the sofa was diminutive, skinny and pale, he was also gasping for breath, his cheeks flushed bright red and his nose and eyes streaming. “Oh dear” he said quietly, coming and sitting opposite the boy. “I’m Father Brown” he said “would you let me help you?”
“I don’t feel very well?” Sid said quietly a small sobbing sound that broke the Father’s heart “please don’t send me away?”
“Of course not” and then Father Brown said something that years later he’d wonder what on earth he said it for, and what that morning had actually been going on his brain, “you can stay here, safe, for as long as you want to” the boy had looked up into the Father’s eyes and a flash of utter trust passed over them. Father Brown had often wondered about that morning in the years that came, but he never, for one moment, regretted it.

Chapter Text

Valentine had warned Inspector Sullivan, warned and pointed out Sidney Carter on his first walk around the village. “That is one Sidney James Carter” Valentine had sighed “pickpocket, fence, burglar, car thief, scrote of the first order, a walking CBO”.
“Trouble?” Sullivan had asked, eyeing the man suspiciously, dressed in a green uniform that looked like it had come from an Agatha Christie Novel, leaning nonchalantly against a gleaming Rolls Royce fiddling with a vape, he didn’t look particularly worrisome.
“Depends on your definition, his straight work is a Chauffeur for the Lady of the Manor, and”
“And?” Sullivan looked across as Valentine rubbed his temples.
“He drives the Earls race car” he shrugged “he’s very good, very fast”.
“Well that sounds like” Sullivan stopped “you said car thief?” Valentine nodded
“Grade A International racing license” he shook his head “never been caught, but I know, know its been him”
“And the rest?” Sullivan asked slightly amused, his heart had beat a little faster when racing cars were mentioned, a little guilty thrill of his.
“I’ve been lucky a few times” he paused “he’s a good man, don’t get me wrong, kind, helpful, strong sense of justice” he looked across as Sullivan made an incredulous noise “really, the Priest is, well, Father Brown is the only family he has” he laughed “but he does think the law is there to be broken”.

Inspector Sullivan had been in post for approximately 14 hours before he was advised of a Criminal Behaviour Order breach in the village of Kembleford. He drove over to the little police station to discover one Sid Carter, in the cells complaining loudly.
“Breach of CBO?” he asked Sergeant Albright on the desk.
“Yessir, caught Carter in the Fish and Eels, not allowed there Sir” he said with a grin.
“Really?” Sullivan looked surprised “why not?”
“Ah you see Sir, pubs a bit of a crossroads, not quite in Oxfordshire, not quite in Gloucestershire, on the canal Sir” he shook his head.
“And Carter is specifically barred from that pub, or all pubs?”
“Just that one sir” Albright nodded “see Carter’s a fence, so him in that pub, well I picked him up myself”
“Oh, erm, well done Sergeant, I suppose I’ll go and take his statement and then we can talk to his parole officer”
“Yessir, I’ll make you a cup of tea shall I?”

“Mr Carter” Sullivan sat down opposite him and the heavy metal table, the first opportunity to see the man up close, he was attractive, and very young, and Sullivan thought smiling in an infuriating way.
“Inspector”
“Mr Carter, you were found in a location in direct breach of your CBO, do you have anything to say?”
“I wasn’t in breach” Sid told him smugly.
“You weren’t?” Sullivan asked “why is that?”
“You read my CBO? The one about the Fish and Eels?” Sid asked
“Erm” Sullivan hesitated because he had expected the Sergeant would have known the exact details..
Sid sat back and rubbed his nose “Mr Carter, Magistrates say, you will be restricted from the premises of The Fish and Eels Hambleston, during opening hours” he smirked.
“Yes?” Sullivan shook his head
“Allbright arrested me at 10.30am” Sid smirked “and hour and a half before opening” he picked at an invisible spot on his shirt while Sullivan carped.

Sid picked up his phone and vape, and signed the evidence book checking the time on his phone and wondering if he had time for a pint before dinner time at the Presbytery.
“Am I free to go?” he asked
“Yes Mr Carter, and we apologise” Sullivan said wearily
“Thanks” Sid turned to leave.
“Carter, what were you doing at the pub this morning?” Sullivan asked
“I’m a handyman aren’t I?” Sid laughed “just helping with a new bit of fencing” he winked and skipped out of the door, leaving the policemen to wonder what exactly he meant by that.

Chapter Text

Sid Carter sat on the kitchen table, chewing on his back paw with frustration, as Mrs McCarthy and Father Brown looked down at him.
“Did you apologise?” Father Brown asked
“Of course I did” Sid huffed, it had been several hours since he’d been turned into a raccoon by the witch in the gingerbread house, and he was rather hoping they would have come up with a solution by now.
“Can you not reason with her Mrs M? She is your sister?” Sid tried
“Half sister, and no I’m afraid not, when Natasha has a thought like this in her mind, she won’t change it” she sighed “I wonder though?”
“Mrs McCarthy?” Father Brown asked
“Well Natasha is very good at transfiguration spells, but her object permanence has always been her weak spot” she shook her head “I wonder if she sealed the spell properly?”
“So you can undo it?” Sid asked hopefully
“No, you can never fully undo another witches spell, especially one made with a specific intent in mind, but I wonder if I could undo the 6th knot of the spell?” she sat heavily down in one of the kitchen chairs and taking up her glasses peered at Sid, “you see a spell has to be fixed with the 6th knot of the spell, but Natasha never got the hang of it, see I can already see some of your human features peaking through the fur”
Father Brown came and gently picked Sid up who made an odd noise of protest half hiss half gulp “yes and here on your head your normal hair is poking, and of course you can talk”
“All the animals Natasha makes can speak” Mrs McCarthy tutted “you know that, you married those squirrels not that long ago”
“True” Father Brown sighed “I was trying to give us hope”
“Well I’m going to phone Selina, get her to come over between us” Mrs McCarthy sighed “really Sid, why did you need to eat her lamp?”

“Oh Sidney” Selina Crow giggled “you have got yourself in a mess”
“Selina” Sid waved a paw, Mrs McCarthy had dressed him in a set of clothes from the refugee drive box, so he now wore a tiny pair of shorts with a hole cut for his tail and minuscule tank top, but was still very clearly a raccoon, despite the tiny flat cap perched between his ears.
“I’ve had a thought while I was coming over, about the knot of 6” Selina said, placing her huge black bag on the table beside Sid.
“I had the same thought” Mrs McCarthy told her “we’d have to be quick, before midnight?”
“Well I happen to have a Greater Healing potion on me, and I thought a Greater Restoration Spell” she sighed “but ideally we’d have some gem or treasure from the victim to dissolve in it, and Sidney has no such gem”
“What if you don’t use one?” Father Brown asked, thinking he could gift Sid something of his own.
“We couldn’t stabilize the potion” Bridget told him “we wouldn’t know exactly what would happen to Sid, if only there was a true love element?”
“What about love in general?” Father Brown asked
“Love in general?” Selina asked
“Well, I was thinking, if there was a tincture to drink perhaps if Mrs McCarthy added it to her soup, that is afterall something Sid treasures like a gem, and is made with love?”
The two witches shared a look “that could work”.

Sid sat on the catechism, on the kitchen table, with Mrs McCarthy’s foot stool as a table, tiny tea spoon in his hand and stared at the bowl “so I have to eat it all?”
“While we touch your fur” Selina nodded
Sid looked up at the Priest “I’m scared”
“I’m praying for you Sid, but it will be fine, you like Mrs McCarthy’s soup?”
“But it's got magic potion in it?” Sid looked up at the two women.
“I’ll let you into a secret Sid” Mrs McCarthy patted him “it always does”.

“How do you feel?” Selina asked as he finished the last spoonful
“Full” Sid whined
“éirí níos fearr go luath” the two women started chanting and the room seemed to hum with magic, Sid shivered under their hands and Father Brown made the sign of the cross, but within moments, naked as the day he was born, Sid sat once more human on the kitchen table.
“Oh that worked” he grinned and then looked down “Oh my clothes?”
“Yeah Natasha will have those” Selina nodded, “right my work here's done, try and behave Sid” she stopped and looked into his blue eyes with her raven and violet gaze “DO NOT COMMIT ANY CRIME” she warned with a voice that came from the depths of hell itself.
“Don’t even think of it” Mrs McCarthy told him, holding up a towel for him to wrap around his waist. “Thank you Selina my dear, see you on Sunday, usual time”
“Bridget, Father”
The three of them stood in the kitchen breathing slowly “well, that was unusual” Father Brown started “I guess I’ll work on my homily” he excused himself, and Sid turned to Mrs McCarthy.
“Sorry Mrs M, but thank you” he wrapped her in a hug “I didn’t want to be a raccoon forever”
“I know, remember Sid, the original spell is still active if you commit a crime, or even think about it, well the curse might reactivate, from this point you have to be good, promise”
“Promise Mrs M” Sid nodded “I think, I think I’ll go and have a bath, I smell weird”
“Good idea” she nodded and turned back to the table starting to wash up.

Mrs McCarthy was just finishing drying the plates, when there was a scratching from the door to the main house, it was unusual for Mrs McCreedy her tabby to be in the Presbytery so she went and opened the door, to a very wet, and grumpy looking raccoon.
“Sorry Mrs M, I was just daydreaming” Sid looked up
“Oh for goodness sake”

Chapter Text

“Mr Carter you have been found guilty of the crime of Highway Robbery, you are it is proved a violent and unrepented criminal whose crimes have tarnished this district for too long” the judged donned a black cap over his wig and glared at the man in the dock, who had swallowed loudly “it is therefore my dubious pleasure to sentence you to the maximum sentence of this crime, death, you shall be taken from this place to a site of execution where you will be hanged by your neck until dead, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul”.
Sid dropped his head and was bundled unceremoniously from the dock to the waiting holding cell, the law insisted on three Sundays to pass before the sentence of execution be carried out, enough time it was said for the criminals friends and families to mount an appeal, apply for leniency and for the condemned to get their affairs in order. Sidney Carter was an orphan, his employer exiled abroad, and a Catholic to boot in a country where that meant he was given no quarter, nobody would appeal for Sid, and so he would wait out his 28 days in misery and fear. What was meant to be a kindness for most would be torture for him, he’d have preferred a bullet to the brain or a cavalry sabre through the gut, this wasn’t the death he deserved, this was just boring.

The first week of his wait, Sid received nothing but the pious, vicars trying to convert him, the Godly trying to spare him, the curious just wanting to know his story. It wasn’t until Friday that he actually saw a friendly face, as his cell door was opened for Alf Turner from the Red Lion.
“Alright Sid, how you holding up?”
Sid looked down at his breeches and filthy shirt, and the small room he was housed in, it was he would admit better than the normal cells being private with the addition of a fireplace to keep the chill from his shaking body, but it was still the condemned cell. “I’ve been better, you brought me a file?” he asked hopefully as the older man sidled into the cell and took a seat at the small desk.
“Ah no” he looked around “but you’re one of us Sid, you’re a good guy, you’ve always seen the Mrs and I right, all the landlords round Kembleford in fact, we have a plan” he laughed “and you owe us all your bar tabs”
“Alf you get me out of this, I’ll give you anything” Sid laughed
“Ah well thats good, ‘cos we had a licensed vitulars meeting last night”, he nodded “thing is, if you are willing to front up your stash, we’ll risk adding to your tab”
“OK?” Sid nodded “sounds fair?”
“Well you see as far as the beaks and screws are concerned you’ll have accepted your fate, so we’ll keep you in beer and snuff and girls for your time” Alf sighed “but you’ll have to do the whole hog, get on the wagon as meek as death the lot, no heroics no escape?”
“Yeah”
“Well see the way we see it, it’d be too hard to spring you from here, they are expecting it they’ve drafted in the Militia on the gates, but the gallows parade will go as expected, every pub from here to Gallows Cross, you’ll get a pint, so you play along till you get to mine, and we’ll provide you with the powder, some dosh, some lead on route, and then, last stop you go off for a slash, and you do your vanishing act” he smiled and spoke low as he could “it’ll be perfect we’ll arrange it all, you just got to be ready to flee the moment you get down from the wagon”
“Seems to be leaving a bit late Alf” Sid told him reasonably
“Yeah but think of the legend” Alf smirked.
After 3 weeks of good food from the various pubs, and beer on tap if he wanted, a warm fire in his great each night and at least one girl in his bed, Sid spent his last night in the condemned cell fairly content, tucked between the gorgeous Smith twins, a good claret and beef en cruet in his belly, warm and comfortable he had almost forgotten tomorrow was the day of his execution. He was woken early by the chaplain and governor who dismissed the whores and allowed Mrs Turner in to his cell, to wash and dress his hair, then clothed in his own clothes, his weapons unloaded but returned to him, his hat and cape in place, and riding boots polished, Sid made his way jauntily down to the condemned cart. There was already a good crowd and he waved cheerily, sharing some bawdy jokes with the crowd, and handing out a few pennies in alms, that Mrs Turner had furnished his purse with. He shook the governor's hand and took his seat on the black creped wagon. He enjoyed a beer at the Cloak and Dagger, and Mild at the Pig and Whistle, a Stout at the Cat and Fiddle and pint of best and a short at the Three Suns, as they came up passed the tower of St Mary’s it was already 5 to 12 and they were going to be late. He smiled genially at his guards, who had also imbibed at each stop, as he came up to the Red Lion there was a large crowd cheering his name, he spotted his own horse amongst those in the yard and smiled even wider. This was it. On the way here he’d been provided surreptitiously with balls, powder, a couple of knives and a purse of crowns. All he needed was the distraction.

As the wagon pulled up Alf came out with a tray of beer and a genial smile, and Sid stood up on his hay bale seat.
“Friends I have graced many an inn and tavern on the county’s roads, and hospitality from you many, I count you all as friends, and it is with heart I say that my last beer to come from Master Turners cellar having been a bosom boon in all my times, does my very soul good. However before I take my ale and my last leave of you all” he put his hand to his breeches “I must say a fond farewell to my greatest friend, and many of yours, to take my manhood for its final handling” he turned back to the guard “I need a piss mate” he said quietly. The guard stood somewhat unsteadily and the whole wagon lurched, there was a moment when Sid stepped back to steady himself, and then, he missed, his boot met thin air and he toppled backwards from the condemned wagon.

Sid didn’t feel the blow, but he heard the snap as his neck met the mounting block outside the pub. Sid was stunned, he sat up blinking, he wasn’t in pain and that was a miracle, in fact he felt quite light, he looked up and saw the people around him, nobody was laughing, in fact they all looked stunned, Alf was wide eyed and shaking. He smirked and stood up laughing, but the people kept staring at the ground so he did as well. He was still there, eyes open sardonic grin on his face, “what?” he looked around, the guards were getting down from the wagon now, staring at him, one of them kicked him, but Sid didn’t feel it, his body didn’t move. He stepped away completely away from his body, and looked down, he looked the same, thought he felt the same, but nobody was looking at him, they were staring at the highwayman dead on the cobbles.
“Ah, Oh dear” a voice behind Sid said quietly, Sid turned to see a diminutive priest in a black cassock and saturna, a Catholic Priest.
“I don’t understand?” Sid asked “what happened?”
“Ah Sid” The little priest nodded putting his hand on his shoulder “I’m afraid you died, shame too Alf was very excited by your escape plan, I must admit I was looking forward to it, I’ve always been rather thrilled by your exploits?”
“What, I can’t be dead I’m talking, what?”
“Yes, I’m afraid you’re what we call a ghost” The Father nodded
“Who are you, like an angel?” Sid shook his head
“Erm no, its somewhat embarrassing, I’m Father Brown, if its any comfort I’ve known you since the day you were left at the foundling hospital” The Father pointed to the large building in the distance Sid had spent his formative years in “you see I’m also a ghost, I have been for Oh about 400 years ago now, but I do like to think of myself as somewhat a spiritual guardian to our community here” he patted Sid.
“You mean Kembleford, or other ghosts?” Sid asked, still rather unsure what was happening to him.
“Well both I hope” The Father smiled “now if you come with me back to St Mary’s there's quite a crowd who’ll want to hear about your execution”
“But I didn’t get executed?” Sid told him looking back longingly to the Red Lion
“Ah well, you’ll have some time to make the story really good then” The little priest smiled, leading him off.

Chapter Text

Evelyn Doone was 5 years old and she was, like most children, excited for Christmas. However much to her mothers confusion she had, a few weeks before the big day, started talking about her secret gift that was coming on Christmas Day. Despite lots of questioning, all the little girl would say was she was looking forward to playing with her gift on Christmas Day. Now the Doone family were not graced with cash, and all Christmas gifts had been ordered months in advance and paid for on the never, and nothing on Evelyn's list prepared back in June, could really be classed as something you could play with on Christmas morning. So Mrs Doone reminded her daughter that her list had been written in June, and Evelyn assured her it was on the list. Mrs Doone explained that Father Christmas couldn’t bring everything on the list, and Evelyn had assured her mother this one Father Christmas would definitely bring. Evelyn was so persistent, and Mrs Doone so worried, in the end she went to the only person she could think of who might help. Father Brown.

Nadia Doone entered the confessional, with nerves that the Priest might turn her away, might mock her fears, but the church had always offered her advice and comfort before, so this was where she felt she could find answers.
“Bless me Father for I have sinned, it's been a fortnight since my last confession”
“Goodmorning Nadia” Father Brown said gently “you sound concerned?”
“Oh Father, I don’t know what I’m to do, Evelyn she says she has a secret gift coming from Father Christmas and I’m so concerned I do not have a clue what's going to happen when I let her down on Christmas Day, and if I only know what she’d asked for,,,,”
“Has Evelyn put it on her list?”
“She says so, but you know Father we send them off in the post, and I can’t remember everything on that list and,,,,”
Father Brown smiled “Nadia, it will be fine, Evelyn knows Father Christmas can only bring what's on her list, and I remember her talking very sensibly about it at Sunday school in June, all will be well”
“But Father?”
“Nadia, all will be well”

Mrs Doone left the confessional feeling slightly better but still unsteady, how on earth did the priest know all would be well, and he wouldn’t have to deal with a heartbroken 5 year old on Christmas day. She prayed hard for her penance in the pews, staring up at the rood screen, hoping against hope somebody was listening to her prayers.

Sid Carter is sitting outside the Red Lion with a pint and the racing post, he looks up, preternaturally aware someone is looking at him, and sees Father Brown coming along the lane, he lifts his pint in greeting and the cleric slips beside him on the bench.
“Father?”
“Sid, just the man” Father Brown smiles slightly breathlessly “I was looking for you”
“You found me” Sid looked at the paper “any tips?”
“Nick’s promise in the 3.15” he tapped the horse “Evelyn Doone, is she on your list?”
“Father,” Sid smirked, “you wouldn’t be asking me for trade secrets?”
“Sid” Father Brown dropped his voice, “is she on your list, her mother is worried, and that little girl deserves some happiness?”
“As it happens, she is” Sid looked across “but you know a Watcher doesn’t tell” he shifted uncomfortably “I’d get in trouble”
“You’ll get in trouble if they find out what you are up to” Father Brown told him
“Yep, but luckily nobody's sitting on my shelf are they?” Sid grinned “3.15 Nick's promise?”
“Yes,” Father Brown smiled, “there's always someone Watching Sid” he warned, pointing upwards, and receiving a smirk for his pains.

Sid stood outside the old barn the Kembleford Gambling Fraternity used as an illegal tote, and lit a cigarette, from the outside he looked like a young man loitering, waiting for the 3.15 to be run. Inside his mind he was shifting through names and lists, finding Evelyn Doone filed away safely. The little girls list had been sent off dutifully translated from childish scrawl into elvish by his own busy hands, but one item, like most of the children in Kembleford had been missed off his careful transcription. The one thing on the list, Sid would be solely responsible for providing, something those up North hopefully knew nothing about. A secret passed from child to child of Kembleford, and forgotten by the time they left St Paul's Primary, a baby reindeer to play with. For the last decade, starting during the war when the children were unlikely to get toys or treats Sid had ensured on Christmas morning, before the grown ups even awoke, the children of Kembleford would wake to sleighbells in the snow, itself a little extra magic to make the day perfect, and a tiny sleigh and podgy fluffy baby reindeer would be waiting outside their bedroom window. In the way of Christmas magic the children's ride would last seconds of real human time, and all day for the child. Sid was aware this little bit of manipulation might have started effecting understanding of time in the village, but really it was all worth it to see the smiles on the little mites faces. The reindeers seemed to enjoy it as well.

When Sid had first been sent as a Watcher to Kembleford, his day job was to be looking after the baby reindeers, who needed to grow in a normal setting, invisible to the humans, but fed normal food. Sid, a child of Carter’s whose ancient role was to care for the sleigh, and a natural empathy for small animals meant this was supposed to be an easy secondment. He picked up some extra work as a human driver, and like all elves found a home of sorts within the Church family. However that long horrid and desolate war had affected him more than those up North would ever know. He started using his magic to stretch the ration, to find items that perhaps weren’t readily available, and if nipping up home to get some candy canes why wouldn’t he pick up some magic reindeer food to provide the children with a once a year treat.

It gave him a reputation amongst the adults as slightly dodgy a black marketeer surely someone untrustworthy, but the children loved him unconditionally. He wondered briefly what would happen if the boss ever found out, but he couldn’t stop now. Those happy smiling angelic faces everywhere he went. The honorific “Mr Sid” and the call “show us some magic” was worth any punishment, civil or magic that they ever dealt him.

Once a month Sid would call a sleigh and at midnight would travel through the moonlit sky at the speed of a blink of an eye to deliver his Watcher reports, and deal with any other business. He would go and visit his parents in the great sleigh garage while he was there, and if he filled his pack with some magic reindeer food, nobody would notice, and he did polish the sleigh while he was at it, and mucked out the reindeers, and polish the bells and wax the harnesses, it might, if he thought about it, be a bit of guilt, but then, he had the time, why wouldn’t he help out.

The night after his win at the 3.15 or Nicks Promise, Sid was sitting in his caravan perusing some interesting literature, when with the tinkling of bells and the smell of gingerbread a curled purple paper letter wrapped in gold and red ribbon fell from the ceiling and landed on his stomach. It was warm to the touch and Sid was instantly aware, this could only come from one person, it was a summons from the boss.

“Sidney Carter, you are hereby summoned with immediate effect to the Gingerbread Cottage, North Pole, Father Christmas”.

Sid gulped, and carefully did up his shirt, and found his hat, tying his boots with care he picked up his jacket, and stepped from the caravan clutching the letter. A swirl of snowflakes caught him up and in another jingle of bells, he was gone.
Sid found himself standing in thick snow outside the large and tastefully iced home of the big man himself. Father Christmas, outside of the day he was given his assignment, and Christmas Day, this was the first time he’d been here for years. Without the open door and sound of carols it looked rather more daunting than he remembered. He couldn’t remember what the penalty for rogue elves was, although he thought he must have been warned once. He couldn’t actually remember there being any rogue elves in his memory, but he had a worrying thought that it might be more than a stocking full of coal.

Sid stepped into the cottage and was immediately assaulted by the smell of chocolate and candy, a feeling of warmth and home and peace flooded his body and despite all fears he instantly relaxed, there was a figure at the huge hob in the fireplace with his back to him, but Sid could see the round little belly and long white hair, and swallowed audibly.
“Ho Sidney, come in, hot chocolate?” Father Christmas turned with a beatific smile
“Yes please” Sid found himself saying, unsure why.
“I’m so glad you could make it, we need to have a little chat” The Jolly Old Elf told him, ushering him to a comfortable sofa with a steaming mug of hot chocolate complete with whipped cream and marshmallows. “Now Sidney, can you tell me why you have been feeding the baby reindeers magic food?” he asked gently.
“Oh, erm,right, well” Sid was going to lie, and say he hadn't but shining blue eyes pierced his and he found he wasn’t able too, instead he sipped his hot chocolate.
“You can tell me Sid,” Father Christmas said quietly.
“For the children” Sid looked up honestly “for Christmas, I wanted to make them smile”.
“The children?” The Saint asked “tell me about the children Sid?”
“Well” he tapped his long fingers against the mug “it was the war you see, they couldn’t have sweets or new clothes or toys, it was horrid, so that first Christmas 1939, I started taking some extra chocolate and Candy from the stash here, and spread it out among the villagers, the adults too” he shook his head “then I started topping up peoples ration, you know little bits, when it was somebody's birthday, or they had a baby, or their dog died, you know?”
“I think I do, but what about the reindeers?”
“Well it was 1942” Sid shivered “it was so cold, so awful, so many people died, it was tragic, I was cold” he sipped the chocolate “and I just wanted to make Mia Donaldson smile, her Dad had died out at the front, her Mam had gone giving birth to her little brother, and she was living with her Aunt, with no toys or nothing” Sid shook his head “so one day while she came to me to buy eggs on the QT, I showed her the baby reindeers, I swore her to secrecy, but she told Gladys King and before I knew it, all the kids knew” he shook his head “I know I’m supposed to keep myself to myself, but them kiddies needed something” Sid shook his head. “That Christmas I thought I’d show them what reindeers can do with the right food” he coughed “anyway, that was 10 years ago or so?”
“Oh Sid, that's so kind” Father Christmas told him “I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of my elves” he shook his head sadly “but Sid, you doing this has effected the whole time flow around Kembleford, and people have noticed”
“I know, but how can I stop”
“Well, you should have come to me first” Father Christmas shook his head sadly. “I don’t want to disappoint the children anymore than you do, so I will have a think, but you mustn’t steal anymore Sidney, its very naughty!”
“Yes Father Christmas” Sid looked down
“I’ll arrange for you to have a regular Christmas delivery of Reindeer Food, and an extra sweet ration” the elf smiled “and I’ll talk to the Summer Court about making time work a little differently in Kembleford”
“Really?” Sid asked
“Of course, I trust your opinion Sid, and if you say it's what's best, then that's what we’ll do, it isn’t the only time we’ve bent the rules, let me tell you about a little sad boy in Belfast, and the world of Boxon”.

After Sid had been returned home, with a tummy full of chocolate, Father Christmas, carefully let his usual disguise drop, and sat back at his desk with a smile, putting his glasses on and picking up another letter, Mrs Claus then came in to his study, her usual face of good tempered scorn. “You spoil that boy Father” she scolded, shaking her head “I don’t know why you don’t just tell him the truth”
“I will when he’s ready Mrs McCarthy, but till then, we all have our secrets don’t we” Father Brown’s eyes twinkled.

That Christmas Evelyn Doone got to spend a whole day riding with a baby Reindeer, and Nadia had no idea what secret Father Christmas had brought her, but when they went to church later than Christmas morning, Sid slipped her a candy cane, and one for Evelyn and she wondered at what magic had taken place?

Chapter Text

There was something wrong with Kembleford DI Sullivan had realised during his few months here, the general crime rate was low, very few thefts or petty vandalism, the villagers seemed particularly cheerful, content, there was very little true poverty and no real deprivation. Even the Polish Resettlement Camp was cheerful and cared for. However the murder rate, that was something else, the sheer number of bodies he dealt with in just the average week was far and away what he’d ever dealt with in London.

The Earl and Countess of Montague saw themselves not as terrifying monsters of the horror genre, not predatory vampires feeding on the weak, but pride themselves on their humane system of free-range human farming. The Villagers of Kembleford, live under their protection, fed, clothed and educated. Felicia told their peers that she saw herself as a shepherdess to her flock, all she asked was a moderate blood tithe, in return for the kind of life others could only dream of.

For centuries they had been the envy of their neighbours, their estate thriving, their humans happy and healthy. They had even snagged for themselves a Catholic Priest who had spent the previous 400 years tending to the spiritual wellbeing of all, both vampire and human. However there were always those who would seek to upset the carefully balanced eco-system, and over the years the same punishment would be meted out. The corpses of those who crossed the Montagues turned up with a sort of sporadic regularity. Sudden deaths were part of the deal, those who had agreed to spend their existence as a food source, understood this.

When little Daisy Morgan went missing, the Earl and Countess along with the rest of the village went searching for her, and despite the benefits of preternatural senses, they were unsuccessful in finding her. DI Sullivan would have sadly filed the whole terrible incident in his unsolved files, had not James Parnell’s bloodless corpse been delivered to his front door with a note,
“I killed Daisy Morgan”
He picked the notecard up and ran it through his fingers, he didn’t need fingerprints, he knew exactly where this card stock had come from, he had received a thank you note from the Countess only the week before on exactly the same card. It was thick, rich, quilted, not exactly the sort of thing Mrs Clam stocked in the post office.

Sullivan stood in front of Sergeant Albright and Goodfellow shaking his head “what do you mean you can’t let me go, I am the Inspector, you are my Sergeants, I say we’re going to interview the Earl and Countess, you follow me”.
“With respect Inspector, no” Goodfellow flinched as he said this “we aren’t”
Sullivan's eyes widened “I don’t understand?”
“Inspector, the Earl and Countess, you can’t arrest them” Allbright clarified “you won’t be able to”
“Nobody is above the law” Sullivan heard himself insist in the face of rebellion.
“No human is above the law, sir,” Goodfellow clarified. Sullivan looked at him shocked.
“I am going to Montague now, and I will talk about this later” he put his hand in his pocket “where are my car keys?”
“It's for your own good Inspector,” Albright told him. With one final look of disgust at his Sergeants, Sullivan started walking towards the Montague estate.
“Shame really, I quite liked him” Allbright turned to Goodfellow.
“Hmmm yes” Goodfellow nodded, going back to his paperwork.

Sullivan was welcomed into the huge entrance hall of Montague by Hornby the butler, the older mans eyes squinting suspiciously at the policeman, when showing him inside. The order to stay put to the Inspector somehow obeyed without question. Sullivan had spent not a small amount of time socialising in this hall, he didn’t enjoy it, there was something not quite comfortable about the way the Countess behaved towards him, and now, note card in his pocket he thought he knew what it was. His thoughts briefly rested on her chauffeur, a man with a criminal record longer than Sullivan's arm, perhaps it was he who had left the bloodless corpse, maybe he should have started with the Presbytery after all, who but Father Brown would have solved Daisy Morgan's murder without telling the police.

The Inspector's internal monologue was interrupted by the appearance of the Countess, which made him jump; he had neither heard nor saw her arrive in front of him.
“Inspector” she smiled “and what do we owe the pleasure?” her words were warm but the voice was cold and Sullivan stepped back.
“Daisy Morgan” he squeaked
“Tragic” The Countess shook her head “one can only hope the perpetrator receives just punishment”
“James Parnell is dead” The Inspector looked into her eyes watching for any change in emotion.
“Inspector?” she asked smiling “I’m afraid I don’t understand, what has that got to do with young Daisy?”
“He murdered her”
“Did he?” She sounded shocked but her saw her eyes narrow
“And someone with access to your card stock, murdered him”
Lady Felicia stepped back and shook her head “you would of course have proof of that Inspector?” she walked away and he followed her, through a portico and into a large sitting room, settling herself in the middle of one large Chesterfield sofa, she had barely settled when a door opened the other end of the room, and Sid Carter arrived in his green uniform, stepping smartly behind her.
“Carter?”Sullivan looked up
“Sullivan! Everything alright Milady?”
“The inspector here believes we murdered Mr Parnell?” She looked up at him as he smirked, Sullivan watched and his throat went dry, there was something almost hungry about the smile on the thief come driver’s face.
“I doubt he has evidence” Sid laughed
“Apparently someone left a note” Felicia shared a look which might have been an admonishment.
“Really?” Sid coughed “so what do we do now?” he asked
“I think the Inspector should meet with the Earl, Sidney”

Inspector Sullivan didn’t remember how he had got here, but he found himself between the Countess and her Driver in a darkened chamber somewhere in the house, the smell of incense and patchouli the only light being supplied by red shaded sanctuary lamps in recesses of the wall. He shook his head, this must surely be some kind of dream, this couldn’t possibly be the same house he’d been in before with the Vitrola Record players and electric chandeliers, this was something out of a gothic horror, complete he saw when his eyes adjusted with a pair of huge coffins.
“The Earl” The Countess explained, stroking one of the coffins lovingly, “needs his rest”.
Before Sullivan could react, the driver beside him carefully softly took his hand, and nipped Sullivan's thumb.
“Oi” he exclaimed, seeing a bead of bright red blood well on the digit as Sid dropped his hand “what?” Sullivan started, when the coffin in front of him moved, a noise from the inside had him staring, and unbelievably the lid lifted, and a man with Sandy grey hair, and skin the colour of old parchment, sat up from inside, and turned to the Countess.
“Fresh blood Felicia?” the man asked in a voice from perdition's edge.
“Darling, I am sorry to wake you, but we have a slight issue” she turned her head towards the policeman, who found his back blocked by the driver.

The word Vampires was running through Sullivan's head, but surely that can’t be right, vampires aren’t real. However he had seen the body of Parnell devoid of blood, he’d seen other bodies during his placement, similarly drained.
“Your heart is thumping like a drum” Sullivan, “ Sid behind him whispered.
“I am a police Inspector" Sullivan squeaked “in the pursuit of justice”
“Justice?” The Earl asked, stepping from his coffin, and kissing his Countesses hand “you think a child murderer living at liberty because no body can be found?”
“Well of course?”
“You think it's justice that the weak and the poor live in squalor and crime, while their neighbours and friends do nothing?” The Earl asked again
“Sir, its not my”
“Tell me Inspector, how do you feel about natural justice?”
“Natural justice?” Sullivan asked
“Weaker creatures, is it now our responsibility to care for them, care for these humans?” The Earl smiled now and Sullivan caught a glimpse of sharp canine teeth.
“You’re a vampire?” he asked stupidly “you are aren’t you?”
“I prefer the term Manjasang” The Earl smiled again “you see, my family here, my wife and our children, we keep things, pleasant for the humans under our care, they are fed, they are clothed, they have employment, and justice prevails”
“Apart from those you eat” Sullivan stated braver than he felt.
“We do not EAT our tenants Inspector” The Countess smiled, her own teeth now bared “we ask for a meagre blood tithe, which is collected humanely”
“But the deaths?” Sullivan said “Parnell,and the others?”

“When someone threatens our flock, we do find the need to police our borders” The Earl explained “as any good farmers would”
“As any caring parent would,” Felicia added.
“Your predecessor understood that there were times when human law just wasn’t enough, and on those occasions he would turn a blind eye, as long as we explained for his own conscience” The Earl explained “I assume we can have a similar understanding?”
“I I I” Sullivan stuttered “you can’t just kill people?”
“Oh I think we can” Sid said still behind him making the policeman jump
“I do hope you’ll at least think about it Inspector” Felicia smiled ”its so much nicer if we all work together to keep our village safe”
“There are of course alternatives” the Earl bared his teeth fully.
“Your choice Sullivan” Sid added.
“You only kill those who would harm others?”
“Of course”
“And nobody is forced into the blood tithe”
“They are free to leave” The Earl smiled “do we have a deal?”
Sullivan's self preservation in that moment won out “I, I suppose I don’t have a choice?”
“There's always a choice Inspector" Felicia twisted a lock of golden hair with her finger.
“But only one where you walk out of here” Sid smirked.
“Wonderful, Sidney will escort you home Inspector” Felicia drawled, her hand briefly resting on Sullivan’s arm, he looked up into those black eyes, tinged with blood, and swallowed. He wondered who exactly Carter was supposed to protect him from.

Sid had walked the policeman out of the giant iron gates and through the little hamlet that supported Montague, and now they were back on the main road heading towards the village. So far they had walked in silence, but Sid could hear the policeman’s heartbeat, and the unnaturally heavy breathing which had increased noticeably as they had left civilization and entered the overhung country road.
“Go on” Sid said “ask away”
Sullivan jumped in surprise at being addressed and stopped “you’re a vampire?” he asked stupidly, his brain stuttering for a sensible question.
“I am” Sid grinned flashing his sharp canines
“Did you kill Parnell?” he asked
“No comment” Sid giggled and the Inspector looked at him, angelic faced, actual dimples and sparkling eyes.
“You don’t look like a vampire” Sullivan shook his head, “you aren’t particularly scary”.
Sid dropped his voice to a low whispering timber, close to the Inspectors ear
“I am immortal, dark and dangerous, you should stay away from me”.
Sullivan swallowed audibly “when were you born?” he asked, thrilled.
“Me?” Sid smirked “1926”
“What?”
“1926” Sid shrugged
“You're 27?” Sullivan asked incredulously
“Yeah” Sid stepped back rubbing his nails on his jumper
“But you look 27?” Sullivan shook his head
“Oi!” Sid looked hurt “I was turned 4 years ago, I should only look 23 at the most”.
“And Father Brown, he doesn’t mind?”
“It would be a bit hypocritical really” Sid smirked
“You mean, he’s a?”
“Oh yeah, was turned during the first Elizabeth’s reign, knows all about the persecution and stuff”.
Sullivan shook his head and absentmindedly touched his neck “so what now?”
“I could eat you” Sid offered shrugging “or you could just go back to work?”
“How can I go back to work, how can I ever go back to work?”
“Dunno, Valentine didn’t have a problem did he?” Sid pulled out his lighter and the fag from behind his ear lighting it and taking a drag “maybe give him a ring?”

Chapter Text

He ran across the lawn as fast as he could, it wouldn't do him any good to get caught now. He could already feel his deamon Rita was climbing up the walls of the West Wing towards the open window of the Countesses bedroom, her squirrel tail swishing through the air, so he ran on. The honeycomb coloured walls still held the heat of the day even though night had fallen several hours earlier. Sid looked up at the open window. He had done this climb hundreds of times, but he was exhausted, he’d just run 2 miles, but this was his best option, get out of sight, into the dark of the house before anyone came looking.

Having scaled the wall he heaved himself through the window, and his breath caught in his throat, not only because the woman in the bed was the most beautiful creature he knew, but because she was sobbing, and his heart immediately hurt for her. Rita was sat beside her on her pillow, her nose into Felix, Felicia’s daemon, offering what comfort she could to the tiny pine marten.
“Fliss?” Sid asked gently, “The Earl?”
“He, he” she sobbed “he’s just gone, again, without, he said he would stay all weekend, and then, his office phoned and he’s gone, he didn’t even ask if I wanted to go with him?” she sobbed further.
Sid came and sat on the chair beside the bed, removing his boots distractedly. “You didn’t really want to go to London though, it's the flower show tomorrow?”
“That's not the point, he didn’t give me the choice, I feel like he just doesn’t see me?”
Sid looked up “Oh Fliss, I see you” he whispered. Rita padded down the pillow, her paws gently probing at Felicia’s arms knocking the wind from Sid as the connection became intense, Felicia wrapped her arms around the puffed up giant squirrel dragging her furry body close like a giant teddybear, snuffling into the demons fur.
Sid carefully removed his braces and undid his shirt pulling it over his head and depositing it on the chair, dropping his trousers so he stood in just his underwear, he carefully climbed under her duvet wrapping his arms around her. The intense feeling he had when she touched Rita, calming into something else, he could feel her sadness, her despair and he wanted to take it all away, Felix lay beside his head, and Sid ran a gentle hand over his soft fur, making Felicia mewl, then picked him up, and placed him between them, the tiny claws pressing into his chest hair, seeking warmth and comfort, Sid pressed his face against Felicia's hair, kissing her gently there, and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“I’ve got you” he whispered “I’m here” The crimes he had committed earlier were forgotten, as the intensity of the electricity between them became a soft humming peace.

Chapter Text

Sid Carter was running, he’d been made, and now he was running as if his life depended on it. Well maybe not his life, but certainly his ongoing freedom. He was running down the Cirencester Road, thinking he was screwed, when he saw the Church from behind the wall, Sacred Heart, he’d driven Father over here a few times for Mass cover, which meant he knew exactly where he was and he had an out, he took a left and then a right. To many it would look like an anonymous street, flats and houses scattered the quiet road, but Sid knew which building he was going to. The man outside gave him an odd look.
“Sid?”
“Yeah” he gasped, as the man opened the door for him, shaking his head.
The room was dark, and despite the smoking ban smoky, smelling of tobacco and something more herbal. The bar was lit with tiny spotlights which reflected on the top shelf of bottles and gave the appearance of fairy lights. The stage at the back of the bar contained a piano lit with a blue spotlight where a young man, barely more than a teen, had started playing a slow introduction, sweet and melodic. Sid watched as another downlight lit on the stage and the women stepped into it.
Small and plump, her auburn hair fell in a chaotic tumble around her shoulders, the light picking up wispy split ends as if she’d run nervous fingers through it seconds before. She smiled brightly crinkling up her nose, a quirk completely at odds to the melody, and patted down her long black dress as she stepped up to the microphone, pulling at her half length sleeves at the last moment as if scared the two dozen patrons might see her upper arms, seemingly unaware that they were focused on the alcohol in front of them and not her.

“Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever”

She sang with a voice like velvet, slow and seductive completely in contrast with her looks. Eyes unfocused towards the space above the front door, she paused and swayed to the music somewhat ridiculously, and Sid smiled. He had seen the act before, it was almost comical, if you closed your eyes you could imagine this was another person altogether. The light blue eyes however showed a darkness where the voice came from.

“Between you and me I could honestly say
That things can only get better”

The boy at the piano played slower than the Elton John version, as if he’d heard it on the radio and thought, that's too fast, and slowed it. It meant that the woman at the microphone was vamping, badly, through the gaps.

“And while I'm away
Dust out the demons inside
And it won't be long before you and me run
To the place in our hearts where we hide”

Sid had ordered a shot of JD and downed it when he heard the police car, he watched as people around him carefully extinguished cigarettes and hid their weed. Looking nervously at the door, Sid knew the guy on the door would give the coppers a hard time if they wanted to come in, but he couldn’t keep them at bay forever. He looked up at the stage and a thought occurred.

“And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Time on my hands could be time spent with you
Laughing like children, living like lovers
Rolling like thunder under the covers
And I guess that's why they call it the blues”

As Sid climbed onto the stage he caught the woman's eyes, slipping by her and standing in the background. Hidden by the stage lighting, he could see the police entering the bar looking for him.

“Just stare into space
Picture my face in your hands”

“Hands” Sid sang, and he saw the pianist look up and the woman shrug.

“Live for each second without hesitation
And never forget you’re my man”

“And never forget I’m your man” Sid sang, starting to enjoy himself, he knew how good his voice sounded, he watched one of the coppers go up to the bar and ask a question, he watched the barman shake his head.

“Wait on me boy”
“Wait on me girl”

“Cry in the night if it helps
But more than ever I simply love you
More than I love life itself”

They didn’t even look at the stage, Sid thought it was a shame, the woman in front of him was singing her soul out on stage, pouring every dark thought into the lyrics and nobody but he seemed to be listening.

“And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Time on my hands could be time spent with you
Laughing like children, living like lovers
Rolling like thunder under the covers
And I guess that's why they call it the blues”

Sid couldn’t quite remember how this song ended, and he was aware the coppers were still there, and he thought, he hoped he knew the next song, otherwise he was a bit screwed here. His desperation must have shown, as the pianist played the bridge twice, and he watched as the Woman gave the young man a questioning look and then indicated to Sid, she shrugged and made a small movement with her hand, “keep going” was obviously the point.

“Wait on me boy”
“Wait on me girl”

“Cry in the night if it helps
But more than ever I simply love you
More than I love life itself”

They watched as some policeman came out of the toilets and stood talking to the door man inside the club who was still shrugging and Sid really started to hope nobody was really listening after all.

“And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Time on my hands could be time spent with you
Laughing like children, living like lovers
Rolling like thunder under the covers
And I guess that's why they call it the blues”

Another bridge and there was a sort of desperate head shaking from the pianist, and a half cough from the singer. All three were staring at the door as the police finally filed out. There was a collective breath and with one final half bridge the pianist swelled towards the crescendo.

“And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Laughing like children, living like lovers”

Sid sang alongside, a lower harmony a moment behind.

“And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Laughing like children, living like lovers”

“And I guess that's why they call it the blues
Laughing like children, living like lovers
And I guess that's why they call it the blues
And I guess that's why they call it the blues”.

As the song finally came to the end with just the outro, the woman turned to him
“You owe me” she whispered
“Thanks SJ”
She then turned back to her audience who were reassembling their various illegalities.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my unexpected partner in that duet, Mr Sidney Carter”.

Chapter Text

Sid Carter was carefully and lovingly changing the oil on his motorbike, when he looked up to see his partner’s car pulling up the lane. He put a hand up to wave and was surprised when he got no response. After he had finished up and cleared away, he walked back towards the cottage, assuming Eddie had just had a bad day, thinking of all the nice things he could do to improve his mood. Stepping into the cottage he saw the light on in their perpetually dark dining room. “Hello hello” Sid shouted, sticking his head round the corner “you alright?”
Sullivan was standing by the giant photo of Sid on the wall, staring.
“You alright love?” Sid asked, coming and standing behind him.
“How do you do that?” Edgar asked, eyes still fixed on the huge print.
“Win? I drive faster than everyone else” Sid shrugged “brake later, go for the smaller gaps, why?”
“Not driving” Edgar turned to him, searching his face “how do you stand there in front of everyone, without a care in the world, how do you have a life sized picture of yourself printed? How do you turn up and sing on tables in bar rooms?”
“Well the singing I’m usually drunk” Sid told him reasonably “and standing on a podium” he chuckled lightly and kissed Edgar's forehead “thats pure adrenaline, its lucky my fireproof pants are tight because I usually have such a raging hard on I could hammer nails with it”
“Sid”
“The photo, well it got me laid” he smirked “and before you moved in, I didn’t really come in here, and when you did you were really nice about the photo, so, well it made me proud” he smiled “but I guess this isn’t really about my awesome portrait?”
“We are having new photos taken, for our community engagement talks” Edgar pulled out a dining chair and slumped into it “I hate it”
“What?”
“Having my photo taken, I can’t, I hate it”
“Eddie, you are the most gorgeous bloke I’ve ever seen, you are getting on for the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and you're only missing out because I’ve seen an AC cobra, what the hell are you worried about?”
“I’m goofy” he looked up and Sid sat across from him taking his hand “my nose is too big, and my eyes are to close together and when I smile, I look stupid”
“No, darling you don’t” Sid pulled his phone out of his pocket, and showed him the home screen, it was Edgar holding Helen the chicken “look at you, gorgeous”
“You're biased” Edgar smiled sadly
“Yeah, but” Sid fiddled with the phone again “Whatsapp” he said turning the phone to show him the group “dubious associates” then started typing:
“Guys what do you think of Eddie’s picture”
Attaching a photo from the Summer Fete, there were immediately several people typing.
“Hot” Bunty replied
“Very handsome” Felicia added
“He looks very nice” Father Brown added
“HE IS A VERY WELL PUT TOGETHER YOUNG MAN, LOVE BRIDGET” Mrs McCarthy added after a while.
“He’s alright?” Brenda added
And there was a smiley emoji from Isobel.
“See?” Sid showed him.
“They are friends, of course they would be,,,,,”
Sid laughed “alright, lets try this” he went back to his phone and forwarded the picture and query to another group”
“Sid?” Edgar asked “who”
The phone beeped non stop for over a minute, “right” Sid turned the phone to him. Most of the comments were “hot” or “sexy” , lots of smiling emojis and several kisses.
“Who on earth did you send that too? The WI?”
“Nah” Sid smirked, “Kembleford underground betting fraternity”.

Chapter Text

It was getting dark when he pulled into the carpark, which was right he supposed but it made him nervous the metallic blue Saab 9000 he’d boosted two hours earlier at South Mimms didn’t have the greatest lights, and having forced the ignition with a screwdriver and the battery with a foil wrapper from his cigarettes he wasn’t entirely sure how long the battery would last, certainly he wasn’t going to be restarting it if he stalled it.

The boy sitting in the passenger seat beside Sid was actually vibrating with excitement, and it was making him grumpy. “You aren’t in the car when I do this right?” Sid asked “you remember that, you just take the winnings?”
“Yeah yeah” the boy smirked
“And you don’t take your hat or gloves off?” Sid clarified
“I know”
“And if I crash, you run?”
“I know, isn’t this exciting?" he smirked
Sid scoffed, it was but he wasn’t going to tell him that, he was just a stupid kid, and Sid was very nearly 17. The other cars started pouring into the carpark now, and there was a parade of bright lights and honking, and Sid smirked at the pretty girls, he'd quite like some of that action if at all possible tonight.

However they were here for one reason and that was to make a lot of money very quickly. He didn’t really care about the rest of the car meet, the razzing up and down the urban carriageway in front of the car park, music blaring, backfires and doughnuts were all very well, but the reason Sid had nicked this car tonight and driven up to the Godforesaken countryside of Hertfordshire, to the boring roundabouts of this New Town, was the modern equivalent of a Royal Joust, the far and away most illegal aspect of this illegal street meet. Street racing was all very well, but you needed a high performance car and those you could rarely nick, and the returns if you did win, weren’t even worth the petrol. What Sid was interested in was the car thief’s version of deadman's curve, a game of chicken.

The track was a quarter of a mile straight on a steep incline, barriers on both sides of the single roadway, which during the average Saturday kept the general public heading to the football stadium from crossing straight from the shopping centre carpark. Tonight lined with spectators, Sid's stolen Saab sat at the bottom of the hill, his opponent in a lowered Ford Focus sat at the top, performance didn’t matter, this was nerve, there was just enough room to back out of a head-on crash, but if you did, your car would be scrapped along the metal barricade. Halfway along the road sat a girl with a million candle torch, and when she turned her light off both boys would drive as fast as they could at their opponent, the loser would have a trashed car, not a problem for Sid, it wasn’t his car, and the winner would get a cool grand. Too tempting by half.

Sid had been out dealing when he first heard the whisper of this meet, and immediately he wanted in. His aim for as long as he could really remember now had been to get back to Kembleford, but for that he needed dosh, he had debts, he had bills to pay, and he really needed to get clean before Mrs McCarthy saw him again. This could be his chance to get the fuck out of this life once and for all, and all he had to do was drive as fast as he could at some sucker in a Focus, easy money.

The light went out and Sid floored it, the wheelspin a little bit of an issue and he cursed, slamming the ancient Saab from 1st to 3rd, no need for a left foot anymore, this was now all down to nerve, the other fucker was coming and Sid’s heart thumped in his chest and his throat tightened, he could, he thought swerve there was enough room just, maybe, but then he’d lose, fuck that he thought, and kept driving, he could see the other mans white terrified face and he bit his lip, he was going to win, the Focus swerved at the last moment, and Sid felt a thunk as his wing brushed the back wheel of the focus, but then he was free, roaring up the hill, and he whooped.

Then he looked behind him in the rearview mirror, and braked, the other car was impossibly horrifically turning in the air, sparks and parts flew from it as Sid watched in horror, road in front forgotten as he slammed his foot down on the brakes harder, almost slamming into the barrier himself, the Focus was falling to the road and he could see people looking up in horror, and then he heard the noise. Once Father Brown had accidentally put two of his Hornby Trains on a collision course when Mrs McCarthy had distracted him, and the noise of the two small trains hitting was seared into Sid's memory, this sound was horrifyingly similar, just much, much louder.
“Shit”
The Focus was almost immediately engulfed in flames, and there was a moment of horrified silence, followed by hell. The door of the Saab was wrenched open and Sid stared at his companion.
“We need to split Sid, now” he shouted “fucking drive.” Sid stared at him dumbly “this car has the scratches from that focus hitting it, we need to get out of here and dump it fast”.
“Yeah fuck yeah” Sid slammed it back into first and roared off into the night, glancing back at the road lit with flames. Money totally forgotten.

12 years later and 80 miles away, Sid sat up in bed, his heart thumping, and mouth dry, he looked across at where Edgar slept peacefully next to him, and reached for the notebook by the bed.

Fatal Race Meet, Hertfordshire 2015?

Chapter Text

After 6 weeks out of population and another 2 on suicide watch, Sid Carter was put into general population, he wasn’t thrilled, but then nothing that had happened in the 12 weeks since his arrest had filled him with any joy. The idea that he was after all the shit he’d pulled currently incarcerated for a crime he not only didn’t commit but was so against his nature as to appall him just made the whole situation worse.

Sid knew the moment he stepped into the shower something felt wrong. Everything felt preternaturally quiet and still, just the sound of running water on the cracked tiles he swallowed down his fear as he stepped forward into the frigid spray.
“Carter” a voice came from behind him, and Sid flinched, closing his eyes, heart hammering, breath caught in his throat. As the man stepped behind him and Sid could feel his heat, smell the man. The voice came from Charlie Henderson, once a friend of Sid’s, an ally someone to rely on, now literally a backstabber. “I don’t like men who beat up women,” Henderson whispered.
“Charlie it was a set up, it wasn’t me” Sid tried, but Henderson continued “People always say that, I thought you were a good one Sid, I’m disappointed” and then he lunged. It was fast, the metal of the shiv flashed in the spray, and Sid managed to twist to the side, deflecting the first strike, but he didn’t see the second one coming, until the sharp, burning pain exploded in his right knee.

Sid slumped, unable to move, as the shower block emptied, people literally stepping over him as his blood pooled and swirled down the drain, no point in crying out, nobody would hear. If he was very lucky Henderson would have let the guards know the plan in advance. They’d let him bleed enough and then rush in before he actually died. Death on the wing was a pain for everyone. Sid didn’t even cry, despite the pain, the injustice, he just closed his eyes, biting back the bile and pain. His knee was going to be fucked, he’d probably never play cricket again, assuming he ever got out of here. Perhaps it was best for everyone if he took the shiv still pressed into his flesh out, and tried it on his wrists.

Father Brown received the call from the prison, as Sid’s next of kin, he was in the hospital wing, he’s been injured by another prisoner, but the young man was still firm on no contact. After he’d put the phone down, the Father had quietly got up from his desk and walked to the church, kneeling in the front pew, knees on the cold wood, his eyes turned to the rood screen in desperate prayer.
“PATER NOSTER, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum,,,,,”

Chapter Text

“So what you’re looking for is an older car, an older model” Dave told him “you want something pre-2001 if you can?” he looked down at the smaller boy, “do you know how you tell?”
Sid looked up at the teen and shook his head, Dave was a foster child in the same house Sid was currently placed, and Sid thought he was a walking God and encyclopedia all in one, today they were going to steal a car. “Well lots of cars now have letter, letter, number number, letter letter letter” Dave pointed out the Ford Galaxy they were passing. “They have immobilizers and shit like that”. He pointed out the Skoda Fabia parked in front of the galaxy, “that one you see has letter, number, number, number, letter letter letter” he shrugged “pre-2001”.
“OK” Sid nodded “and then you can hot wire them?” he asked.
“Should be able to, the newer ones, that's the further down the alphabet, might be a bugger, we won’t touch that skoda, but higher up numbers won’t even have alarms”. The boys worked further along the darkened street when Dave stopped Sid with a hand to his shoulder, “now that, that's a beaut!” he cried, rushing to the car in front of the skoda “Sid mate look at this, and MG Midget 1500”.

The tiny convertible was bright yellow and gleamed in the street light, Sid read the number plate carefully “Dave?” he asked “this one has letter, letter, letter, number, number, number, letter?”
“Oh Sid, this creature is pre-1983” he counted on his fingers “1977” he whistled. The car had huge headlights sticking up from the long bonnet like eyes, underlined with heavy black rubber bumpers. The Chrome on the doors, badges and windscreen gleamed, a black tonneau cover hid most of the car from view, but Dave reverentially unclipped it, pulling it back sensually over the head rests, lying it back on the curved rump of the car, and folding gently, sniffing the warm supple leather as he tucked it firmly yet gently under the already folded roof. He ran his hands along the chrome of the wound window groves, sucking his teeth. Then dipping his head into the tan leather interior and taking a large sniff. “Do you smell that Sid mate?” he asked “is there a sexier smell?” he looked up at the smaller boy who was standing looking at the car curiously “it’s leaded petrol my man, and heavy oil, they probably use additives” he shook his head, and carefully tried the passenger door, pressing firmly the chrome button hearing the click of the door jam open, “perfect” he smiled.
“So we hot wire this one?” Sid asked, coming over and opening the driver's door, removing the penknife from his pocket.
“No!” Dave shook his head “I mean you could, but why damage her” he pulled a small screwdriver from his jacket pocket, the type you get in a cracker. “Before about 1980 keys were usually just blanks, all you need is to turn the tumbler just like a normal lock, you could probably use the rasp from your kit if you had it on you” he handed him the screwdriver “but this should do it”. Sid fell down into the driver's seat, realizing he was practically sitting on the floor, the little car had looked perfectly child sized from the outside, barely 6ft long and 4ft wide, but from where he now sat, he could barely see the end of the bonnet, and nothing to the sides.
“Er Dave?”
“It's alright mate as long as you can reach the pedals I’ll be your eyes” he smiled “you can reach the pedals?”
“Yeah” Sid shuffled forward and depressed the clutch, surprised to find heavy resistance. He jiggled the gear stick surprised when the knob on top spun in his hand, he looked at his mentor with mild panic.
“Yeah don’t worry about that for the moment” Dave told him, “his hand stroking the fluffy brown carpet with reverence “we need to try and start it first” he smirked “put the screwdriver into the ignition and push till you find resistance, then twist it anti clockwise, jiggle the steering wheel, and quickly turn it clockwise, try it in a solid movement if you can”.
Sid did as he was told and the ignition sparked immediately with a sort of half hearted whine, and a red light in front of Sid blinked twice sadly before dying, “what did I do?”
“Nothing, that was perfect my young padawan, but now it's time we taught you about the choke”. He pointed to a small disk beside the steering wheel with arrows on and the word “lock”. “This is the choke, it literally stops air from reaching the spark of the ignition allowing pure fuel vaper to ignite, when you start a goddess like this, you unlock the choke” he turned it anti clockwise “and pull it out” he pulled it as far as it would go “the further out the more the air is choked, if this car had sat for a few days you’d need full choke, but today, lets say half” he pushed the lever back in. When you start her now she’ll catch the fuel, you’ll want to be ready to rev the accelerator once when she catches, then you can put the choke back in” Sid nodded taking it all in “otherwise you’ll burn too much fuel too quickly and she’ll roar loudly”.
Sid nodded and took a breath, this time the car fired, roaring, and Sid put his foot to the accelerator there was a cough and then she started to growl, a noise the boys could literally feel through the leather tan seats under them. Dave reached across to a rocker switch in the middle of the dashboard and the car in front lit as the headlights shot on, like a pair of glinting yellow eyes in the dark.
“Careful now” Dave warned “clutch, looked behind, handbrake, first gear and accelerator”. He watched proudly as the young man pulled the car out of the space, he put it down into second straightaway, and Dave felt the acceleration, and whooped, third and their hair started to ship around them. Sid turned to Dave as he dropped into 4th, top gear and his smile was bright.
“You are looking where we are going aren’t you Dave?”
“Course” he lied
“Because I can’t see shit all” Sid laughed, 9 years old and he’d nicked his first car, and what a car, she might be old, and smell of fuel, but now they were in 4th she was purring like a kitten, this was the life.

Chapter Text

The morning light was a little too bright, and Sid Carter covered his eyes with his paw, which on closer inspection was already back to being a hand, he snuffled forward and found his mate, curled beside him, his nose into her now human hair, her filthy torn nails pushed into his side, the smell of wet earth and the metallic tang of fresh blood, tied with a bone weary exhaustion, allowed Sid to recall flashes of the night before. The two alpha wolves stalking their prey through the woodland, the smell of terrified human, the crunch of bone in his mouth, and then the feel of Felicia’s fur as they celebrated their kill.

Felicia whined a noise more wolflike than human and licked Sid gently. “Morning” he smiled, kissing her human face gently. “The moon has gone” he said gently “time to go back”.
“I’m so tired” she yawned and stretched somehow he thought still wolflike despite the very human shape of her naked body. “Lets stay here” she mewled.
“Fliss, darling there's the remains of a very dead merchant banker all over us, and we need to be back at Montague before anyone sees us naked in the woods”.
“Sleepy” she said
“I know darling” he kissed her again “but you're human now, so you need to sleep in bed”.

They had a very successful agreement with Inspector Valentine, and it kept them in fresh meat for their monthly hunts but the deal was there was no outside evidence of what had happened the night before, for the police to find. Staying human in the woods in daylight would only get the whole scheme noticed, and would get them caught, and worse separated. Sid couldn’t let that happen, his mate was sacred to him, so he chivied her up, his arm around her gently and carefully leading her to the old tunnel which led to the Montague cellars, so they could return back to the house and once again become Countess and Driver.

As soon as Sid had settled the Countess back to her bedroom, he returned to the servants hall downstairs, dressed and washed of blood. He was greeted with a cup of coffee and bowl of cornflakes from Mrs Hornby. “How is the Countess this morning?” she asked
“Tired” Sid yawned
“Well yes of course” she patted him, “I’ll send the men out for the remains after breakfast” she bustled off and Sid nodded. The whole household was aware of their nature, and now more than ever, they were working together to keep them safe, safe and hidden.
“I’ll take her up breakfast” Sid smiled “but let her sleep for now”
“Whatever you say” Mrs Hornby smiled gently.

They had got sloppy, it was hard for werewolves to hide their nature, and once they’d mated Felicia and Sid had stopped being careful and Valentine had followed the trail of gore from the remains found on Montague's land straight back to the house. He knew he would never get a conviction, so had made the couple a deal. He would find them prey, men who had committed crimes and been able to wheedle out of it, bastards he couldn’t actually convict, abusers and users. Felcia would seduce them, usually in a big city and invite them to her estate for the weekend. These men wouldn’t tell anyone where they were going, happy to have the pretty sexy Countess for the weekend. Sid would drive them back to Montague, and Hornby would slip the victim something before they went to bed.

The victim would wake confused in the woods, with a growl behind them, and then the hunt would begin. The two wolves, working together hunting, tracking and finally bringing down their prey and then devouring them. The staff of Montague carefully chosen or bribed to help them cover up the rest. The previous few months it had been more important than ever that they had a fresh kill every full moon.

Sid carefully opened the Countesses bedroom door, the breakfast tray balanced, and slipped in, putting the tray on the bedside, he climbed carefully up onto the bed, waking his mate with a gentle kiss, and then nuzzling down to the swell of her abdomen where his cub grew safely.

Chapter Text

Heels clicking on the unfamiliar tiled floor, Lady Felicia Countess of Montague was quietly seething behind a mask of unconcerned gentile apathy. Hundred of miles from home, she was once again having to bail her wayward Chauffeur out of a police cell. The hotel porter who brought her the message had smirked, actually smirked, not the eye crinkling half smile Sid Carter excelled in this was filthy, there she was in bed with a man, who was definitely not the Earl of Montague, and the local police needed to talk to her. She would never be able to return to this hotel, and what's worse, her paramour had scarpered at the meerest hint of trouble. So much for romance.
“I am here to collect my Chauffeur” she told the bored looking police sergeant on the custody desk she had been directed to.
“Name?”
The Countess of Montague” Felicia told him in her haughtiest voice.
“Drivers name?” The policeman sighed.
“Sidney James Carter” Felcia told him “Disorderly conduct I believe?”
“Pissed as a newt” The policeman sighed “he’s free to go now he’s sobered up, landlord won’t press charges, as long as you pay for the table”.
“The table?” she asked
“Yeah 2 and 6 apparently” The policeman shoved a scrap of paper over the desk and shook his head. “Pay that and he can go”
“Would you release Mr Carter's belongings to me, please?” she asked and he looked up surprised but handed over a paperbag from under the desk. Felicia emptied the bag's contents onto the desk. Sid’s cigarette case, lighter, watch and a selection of coins, Felicia sorted through until she found half a crown and handed it over. “There you go” she said putting the rest back into the brown bag “could you fetch Mr Carter, I’m eager to get home”
“You can’t do that?” The policeman said, looking at the coin in his hand.
“Do what?”
“Pay his fine, with his belongings?”
“Why not?”
“It's not right?”
“Sergeant, I am hundreds of miles from home, I am tired, angry and I just want my driver back so please, do not argue with me” she smiled her most sharkish smile and the Policeman backed down instantly.

Felicia hadn’t spoken to Sid since they had left the hotel, and he had collected his belongings and changed back into his uniform. She was never the best at the silent treatment, so every few miles he tried to get a rise from her. It was an hour and a half into their journey when she finally spoke.
“Where are we Sidney?” Felicia asked
“Erm well, we’ve just passed Harrogate?” he said “do you need to stop Milady?”
“WE do” she told him “the next town we pass through, you will find us an Inn for the night”
Sid smirked “Ok Milady?” He thought he might quite enjoy whatever punishment she wanted to meet out for having to bail him out.
“And get no high minded thoughts Sidney, I will need some sleep, and you” she sniffed “you can just stay with the car!”
Sid gulped “Oh Fliss?” he whined looking in the mirror “Milady, please?”
“You got arrested Sid, you weren’t even supposed to be out drinking, and you got yourself arrested!”
“Oh that wasn’t my fault, that table was shit!” Sid grumbled, “are you really banning me from your bed?” he asked “really? Last night can’t have been much fun if you came and bailed me out before lunch?” he wheedled
“He ran” she huffed “left me in the lurch the moment the police were mentioned” she made a noise half sob half frustration. And Sid, who had seen her in this mood before, thought it was best to leave it for the time being.

Sid having found Felicia’s room and got her safely checked in, was returning with her case, he shook his head, when her door was slightly ajar, he had warned her about doing that in strange hotel rooms, but she hadn’t listened. Stepping through she wasn’t obvious but he could hear water running and he carefully closed the door.

Felicia came out of the bathroom to find a naked chauffeur on her bed, wearing a hat, boots and the dirtiest smile he could master. “Fancy forgiving me?”
“Oh Sidney, I am very cross you know!” she told him
“Really?” he winked and made her burst out laughing.
“Hmmm, I will be meeting out punishment” she told him, “and I want to know something first!”
“Anything?”
“How did you break the table?”
“Oh Fliss” Sid knelt on the bed and opened his arms “I could give you the starlight,,,,,,”

Chapter Text

She’s daring, she’s sexy, they call her the modern day Robin Hood, the Catwoman of the Cotswolds, whatever the truth about The Swallow she had the press hooked, and the police baffled. A criminal this ambitious, this focused should surely have a crew, should surely leave behind mistakes, the only thing The Swallow leaves is a card with a stylized swallow on one side, and the “crime” she is avenging on the other.

There is a bedroom in Montague House that only the Master and his three Peeresses have a key too, a room the many children of the house talk about with a sort of confused reverie, what Daddy got up too with Mama, Mummy and Lissy was something they didn’t really want to know. However Bridget Carter, the second daughter of the house, and first biological daughter of Sidney Carter had always thought how marvellous it would be to have her own lair. She had aged 18 asked her Father if she could have her own secret room, and he had happily helped her convert part of the original cellar system into her very own Batcave.

Originally Bridget had used her space for somewhere to hide from her many siblings, and then later when she began to question her own place in the world, her sexuality, her very identity, she had used it as a place to explore herself. Creating various outfits which shocked and worried her parents, changing her hairstyle much to the horror of her nearest and dearest, and inviting her various friends to indulge in various experimentations. It was here she read books like The Ragged Trousered Philanthropist and Das Capital. Where she read Gaskell, Howitt and Edgeworth, and finally where she decided being one of the County Set was definitely not for her.

Nobody came to Bridget’s little crypt, her own world far underground, without an invite, her siblings wouldn’t dare and her Father had made sure the whole household knew she was not to be disturbed. So she was surprised while lounging back with a book and a joint one afternoon, that her door was opened, snicking in a way she realised meant it had been picked. Thoughts of instant arrest came to the panicked front lobe of her brain, and she reached carefully for the stiletto blade kept under her seat.

“Put it down Bridge its only Daddy” Sid Carter sighed “we need to talk”
“Daddy?” Bridget looked up and plastered a fake smile on her lips “how can I help you?”
“I wanted to thank you for your note” he came in and took a seat on a blanket box pulled up by the fire, I’m sure many of my acquaintances who have received similar missives have lost much more than a set of cufflinks and a gold pen” he smiled “I suppose you felt you needed to pick on me, to divert suspicion?”
“Daddy, I don’t”
“Bridge, darling, you may have got your criminal mind from me, but that face is your mothers you can’t lie to me”
“How long have you known?” she asked
“That you’re the Swallow?” he laughed “your Godfather has gone straight, Mummy is definitely not on the rob, and I’m not shimmying through windows in tight leather, so unless Marianne Delacroix has come out of retirement” he smiled “Bridget, darling, you’re my daughter, I’ve always known”.
“Do you want me to stop?” She asked
“I won’t ask you too, but I want you to be safe” he coughed “This isn’t like sneaking in with your girlfriends and hoping we won’t notice, if this goes wrong” he shook his head “tell me you have a plan B?”
“Always Daddy” she looked up and laughed “I’ve never even been chased, I plan everything in advance” she went to her desk and removed a folder, opening plans of her fathers London flat she had robbed the night before “I sold the pen, the money I shoved in the Poor Box at St Mary’s, but the cufflinks I kept, Mama bought them for you” she turned, when her Father said nothing but made a soft choked sob “Daddy, are you alright?”
“I’m so proud of you darling” he said and pressed a kiss to her soft brown hair “I love you so much”.
“Love you too Daddy” she fished the cufflinks from her pocket and pressed them into his hand “so much”.

Chapter Text

Sid came round as he was being lifted onto the stretcher, the oxygen mask across his face being pulled painfully with the jolting movement, he tried to struggle, to move but found he couldn’t, he tried to scream and that didn’t work either, he blinked up at the stucco ceiling of his cell above him and wondered what the fuck had happened. The screw beside his head was talking to him, but he had no idea what was being said, the smell of piss and disinfectant assaulted his nose, and something else, something he remembered from the Presbytery kitchen, ground coriander, he tried to shake his head but he couldn’t, panic was welling up now, he breathed in hard and his chest burnt, the plastic and chemical smell of the oxygen mask removing some of the coriander. He blinked as he moved silently, horizontally through the cell door, an unearthly feeling of being partially elsewhere, he wondered if this was what death was like. He was barely aware as they carried him outside, but felt the jolt as they put him into the ambulance, and then the oxygen mask was removed, and a needle put in his arm, it burned hotter than his chest and again he tried to scream, his last conscious thought as he slipped away was the ambulance mask was a different colour, and would that smell of a different herb.

72 hours earlier

Sid Carter was keeping his head down and his nose clean, he had promised Father Brown faithfully that he’d use his time in Youth Offenders to gain some qualifications and not get into trouble. He was mostly successful he had taken a handful of GCSE’s and was dutifully working on his NVQ’s with the hopes of getting a job working with cars, his tutor told him he was natural, Sid hadn’t exactly told him where his skills had come from, but was pleased to actually be using them to do something Father and Mrs M would be proud of him for. He had a bit of a reputation as a model prisoner, calm, polite, clean in his habits, dutiful in his studies, capable in his chores, all this helped a great deal with his less salubrious pursuits, the ones the screws and teachers didn’t know about, or if they did, didn’t mention. Sid had a reputation as a man who could get you anything, for a price.
“Ere, Carter, I’ve got a job for you?” The man sidled up to Sid where he sat with a Haynes Manual for a Ford Focus and a notepad and pencil. Sid looked up to see an older guy he knew as Tommo, a bit of a nutcase from the more secure wing of the building.
“Yeah?” Sid answered nonplussed.
“You got that Swampy kid some solids right?” Sid had in fact managed to get cannabis resin into Feltham, but it had been originally for his own consumption, Swampy had just made him a better offer and Sid had handed his stash over, he could always get some more, he had reasoned, and with the cash Swampy had given him, he had.
“Maybe” Sid shrugged, he actually had some on him right now if the guy pushed, and for the right price.
“Right well I know where it's coming from, but I need a route for something coming in, can you hook us up?”
“Depends” Sid closed his book and reached for his notebook, flipping it to the back “what it is, I won’t do weapons”
“Nah nothing like that” Tommo laughed “its not even illegal” he smirked and Sid looked up incredulous “I mean its banned in here, but not out there”
“What, fags? Alcohol?” Sid shook his head “you’re better off asking one of the outside screws, they charge less than me”
“Spice” Tommo’s eyes lit and he waved his hands like a magician doing a trick “its the perfect drug, like heroin and solids had a baby, and untraceable in urine or saliva tests”.
“Yeah and cut with rat poison and weedkiller and shit” Sid shook his head “I can find you a route but I’m not getting involved”
“No listen, a mate he did over a Premier down in the smoke, you know those crappy little corner shops?”
“I’m aware of their work” Sid answered sardonically
“Yeah well the geezer had racks, racks of that incense stuff, you know the real deal, from the shops, well we supply it in here we’d make a fortune, but I need a route”
“Legit?” Sid asked, “pucker, in a pack, stuff?”
“Legit” Tommo smiled “I’ll cut you in?”
“Alright” Sid shook his head “leave it with me, even if this doesn’t go through you’ll owe me credit for the burner?”
“Yeah Yeah”
“Right” Sid nodded, playing his pencil in what looked like a random pattern on his notebook “I’ll come and find you during Eastenders” he stood up, picking up his books and pencil, and walked off without a backwards glance.

6 hours earlier

Feltham YOI was quite used to having strange deliveries from PACT, the Catholic Prison charity, and if anyone noticed any increase in their deliveries since one Sid Carter had been housed there, it hadn’t been mentioned. Today’s delivery was slightly surprising as it contained boxes and boxes of TeaPigs tea. The usual PG tips were clearly not on the menu for the next few days. As usual the delivery was put away by the lads working in the kitchen and as per today’s instructions 2 boxes of Dandelion Tea was carefully secreted into the Tote bag of one of them and brought to the waiting Tommo. The distribution of a new slightly iffy substance was left as usual to the more experienced of those among the institutes inhabitants, and Sid assumed he would have fallen under that category himself, not being a stranger to a bit of dealing, if he wasn’t determined to get out of there and back to Kembleford as soon as allowed. Every three weeks since his incarceration Mrs McCarthy and Father Brown came to visit without fail, and every time they left he wanted to go with them, he missed them like a physical ache, he’d spoken to his tutors and to welfare about it, he didn’t know if redemption was a thing, he didn’t even know if forgiveness was, although he had prayed for absolution and confessed liberally when Father had first come to see him. He was 18, and he just wanted to go home. So when Tommo came and leaned next to him while he was again studying, he just shook his head.
“Not come to ask for anything else, I’ve got my route secure, and the stuffs gone out” Tommo leaned back on the desk “fuck me its good stuff, I’ve already sold that batch”
“Well done” Sid said barely listening
“Yeah so your cut” he shoved a wodge of notes into Sid's hand “a carpet, and something for your own pleasure”
“Right” Sid pocketed it without looking up “thanks”
“I made a monkey on that, sure you don’t want in next time, proper?”
“No but thanks for the offer” Sid indicated his book and Tommo shrugged
“Suit yourself”.

1 hour earlier

Sid wasn’t worried about the exam, it was going to be a doddle, and the practical stuff he soared through but putting it down on paper was always tricky. He’d been told spelling and grammar didn’t matter just to prove he knew his stuff, but that wasn’t much comfort. He had even been down to the chapel for a little bit of divine intervention, which had definitely done something, because it was the Catholic Father Jones on duty that day, and they had been able to have a proper chat, It wasn’t the same as talking to Father Brown, but Father Jones had been at Upcott and knew Sid’s foster father quite well, so despite the Welsh accent, and the cramped chapel, he could to a certain extent pretend he was back at St Mary’s. Father Jones would ask him to help set up for and stay for Mass every time he saw Sid, and it was probably the closest time in his entire life Sid was anything like devout. Sometimes he thought being a priest would be alright apart from the celibacy, there was a simplicity in the service of God Sid quite liked. He told Father Jones his fears about the exam, that this could be the last thing he needed before he got out, a proper NVQ3 would set him up, he could even see himself doing a BTec. The Father had blessed him, and after Mass told him to sleep well, he would need all his strength in the morning for his exam.

Sid went and sat on his bunk, palms sweating and desperate to calm down, he reached under his mattress and pulled out the small silver packet, no rizla and nothing to make a bong, he opened the little packet and sniffed, it smelt of coriander and not much else, maybe burned plastic. He was used to the comforting smell of cannabis, this was odd, almost like those posh soap shops you found on highstreets, or the new car smell they pumped into freshly valetted cars. Sid shrugged he’d had Spice before, the synthetic cannabinoid was fairly common out on the streets and did take the edge of a craving for something harder, it was hardly the carefully hidden squidgy black Sid had secreted inside his bedstead, but it would do, he bird mouthed the packet, and poured it down his throat. The first thought he had was how disgusting it tasted and the second was water. He grabbed his small water bottle from his bedside and drank it in one, coughing and spluttering water and dried fragments of the spice over himself. “Fuck” he thought, immediately starting work on clearing up the evidence, flushing the tiny grains down his sink, and mopping himself up.
“You alright Carter?” A screw came and stuck his head round the door
“Yeah fine Mr Markson, just choked on me water” Sid held up the bottle
“You got an exam in the morning, try not to die before it, hey?” The warder went off chuckling as Sid looked around, the floor was a mess, and he knelt down using his towel to get up most of the evidence, he didn’t even notice his hands starting to shake while he was doing it, or the noise of the prison disappearing, he was focussed on the task at hand, he sat back on his heels and thought he was light headed, but he couldn’t remember dinner or lunch. “Oh shit” he thought rubbing at his face, he was going to have to lie down. He stood carefully, and felt the world spin and then blackness.

24 hours later

“I’m fine Mrs M” Sid smiled up from his hospital bed “no permanent damage”
“Oh Sidney, you, I can’t believe, you’re in Prison for goodness sake how did you manage to overdose?”
“Technically Mrs McCarthy not an overdose” Father Brown told her gently “the human body isn’t designed to consume any level fentanyl, or that much coriander”
“It was the coriander that did it” Sid nodded “its still all I can smell, makes me want to vomit”
“Hmm” Mrs McCarthy made a doubtful noise and went back to fluffing his pillows “and you missed your exam, and I thought, well you said”
“Again, wasn’t deliberate, it was the coriander, I didn’t know what I was doing till it was too late” Sid sighed “anyway they’ll let me retake it, they said”
“You’re supposed to be coming home” she countered
“Yeah, well I’ll get PD for this, then take exam, it’ll only be a few more weeks, it's not like I actually committed a crime”
“No, I spoke to Father Jones, he said you were worried about the exam?” Father Brown made the comment sound like a question.
“I want to come home Father” Sid told him “honest”
“Well that's what we want, honest and crime free” Mrs McCarthy interrupted.
“Promise , this will be my last stint inside” Sid made the sign of the cross, “go home, get some proper jobs”