The study itself was not so bad. In the glow eeking its way through the grimy windows, Ruth could make out a tapestry of chaos. Half-open books, discarded fast food boxes and all manner of clothes were strewn around the floor, the desk, the bed; mixing together into one messy lump.
Still, it was homely enough. With a few proper bookcases and a tidy up it might even be presentable. Ruth brushed a stained wrapper from what turned out to be a sofa and sat down with a sigh.
“When was the last time you cleaned this place?” she asked her new host who barely seemed to register the question.
“Cleaned? Oh, oh no, it interferes with… the filing.”
Jennifer (if that was really her name) tip-toed in a practised movement through the clutter towards one of the old, thick windows that Ruth now saw to be partly ajar. There was a white-flecked pigeon perching on the windowsill. For a brief moment the two seemed to converse in a rapid series of whistles before Jennifer dismissed the bird with a brief gesture. Ruth couldn’t tell if it was magic or she was just being weird, studying the wizard with interest as she closed the window and took off the grimy coat that might once have been a robe, hanging it behind the door. It seemed as if Jennifer had barely aged since they had furst met - it made Ruth feel positively old by comparison. Were all elves like this? Still, Ruth was satisfied to see that her friend had at least changed a little in thirty years. She had grown broader for sure, what was once a slender form having thickened into something a little fatter. Still, the wizard retained an easy elegance that Ruth, for all her small stature, could not hope to match. It was typical, really.
“Milk? Sugar?”
Ruth looked up from her thoughts and realised she had been staring. “Just milk, thankyou,” she replied as the kettle Jennifer had been boiling began to whistle. Before long they were sipping on two steaming cups of tea and the world seemed somehow better. Jennifer smiled and gazed out of the window at the clean yet sullied world beyond with a curiosity Ruth had not seen in a long time. For a moment it was just like the old days.
“So,” Ruth began after a contented moment, “are you all right?”
Her companion looked confused. “Of course I am Ruth. What makes you ask that?”
“Well… not meaning to be rude,” Ruth looked around the study as if to prove her point, “but you’re living alone atop a half-abandoned station. Do you have any friends nearby?”
“I have books,” the wizard replied, not quite meeting Ruth’s eyes, “and my work.”
There was a long silence. Ruth kept expecting her companion to elaborate but she seemed content to simply sip her tea and smile, her mind abroad. Only then did Ruth remember that her friend had all the social skills of a drunk gnat.
“What work?” She prompted eventually.
Jennifer perked her head up. “Right. I’m an investigator now; a magical investigator. Because… you know. I investigate things. With magic.”
She seemed to struggle filling the silence now that it was broken. Honestly, Ruth had never heard of such an occupation.
“Don’t the police have detectives for that?”
“Of course. But you know what they can be like. Some folks prefer an unbiased opinion.”
The wizard slurped noisily on her beverage, sloppily wiped her mouth, and continued. “I get cases now and then, either through the pigeons or people just coming to meet me on the station.”
She paused for a second before focussing her attention on Ruth. “Do… Do you have a case for me? Is that why you’re here?”
Ruth shook her head briskly and the wizard let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods - I’ve barely finished the last.”
“No, no that’s not why I’m here... Jennifer,” The name still sounded strange to Ruth, “I was just coming to see if you are alright.”
The cup froze midway to the wizard’s lips.
“I am fine, Ruth,” a cold, warning hint had crept into her voice, “just fine. My business is my business. Besides, I’ve never been busier. What with these demon attacks I’m getting called out every week.”
She gestured to the newspaper that she had been reading back on the platform, now spread out over her desk. Ruth caught a glimpse of the illustration; a looming, spindly thing of shadow and fear marked by a grinning bone mask that protruded from its head. Ah yes, the demons. Quite the sordid string of attacks this year; far more than usual. Ruth had heard rumours that the rise was down to a recent wave of immigrants coming into the city - mostly elven. Some say their fey blood attracts a demon’s attention. It was causing a stir on the streets.
Nonsense, of course. Ruth shook her head and focussed back on the study’s comforting solidity. Still, there was no denying it was a mess.
“Are you sure?” she pressed, “I didn’t… well, I didn’t expect you to be living like this.”
The wizard looked her straight in the eyes.
“Well, of course you would know. Ruth Lapham; the respected therapist who can tell sane from mad, normal from abnormal, right from wrong. Who spent twelve years, three months and nine days in a broken marriage just to prove a point. But sure, I’m the one whose life is a mess.”
With that she finished off her tea, firmly put down the cup and stared into the middle distance. After a moment Ruth did the same and wondered what she was going to make of this.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Jeniffer said after a moment without turning around, “divination is my speciality and I like to keep track of all my notable acquaintances.”
Eventually Ruth decided to frown. “Well, I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her stomach felt knotted, twisting itself into a dull anxiety Ruth had not experienced in years. Perhaps it was pity. Yes, that was it, pity for this deluded recluse.
“You know,” she began, a hint of spite creeping into her words, “I was thinking about inviting you to my family’s Summer Solstice party this afternoon, if you weren’t doing anything else. But now I see you are… otherwise engaged.”
“Quite so,” Jennifer cleared her throat and looked about the study as if she were suddenly very busy, “things to do. In that case it was nice seeing you again, Ruth.”
“You could call it that.”
The two stood there not making eye contact for a moment longer.
“Right then,” Ruth said, more to herself than anybody else. It seemed somehow wrong to leave like this. She began making her way towards the door in a shuffling step, half-hoping that Jennifer would call after her. But the wizard was distracted now; cleaning up the crockery without a care in the world.
This was hardly fair. How could somebody, no matter how long-lived, skirt every threat of regret, every morsel of guilt that life threw at them and just be so… relaxed? It was not fair, it just wasn’t. Ruth racked her brain for something, anything, to stop it ending like this again.
“There’ll be chicken sandwiches at the party.”
Jennifer slowed in her movements for a second, her head perking up cautiously.
“... Those chicken sandwiches your mum makes?”
“The best in Whitestone."
“They are very tasty.”
“Why do you think I go there every year? It certainly isn’t for the family.” Ruth grinned despite herself with an air of relief and was strangely happy to see Jeniffer return the expression. Her mother’s sandwiches had that effect on people.
The wizard looked at her feet, swaying subconsciously from side to side as she thought before seeming to come to a decision.
“All right, I’ll go to your thing. Let me get my wizard’s hat,” she scooted past Ruth and began rummaging through the assortment of clothes draped haphazardly over the door peg, “ah, here we go.”
Retrieving a flat, wide-brimmed headpiece from the jumble, Jennifer waved it through the air in a brisk, practised motion so that it unfurled with a sharp snap. It did indeed look to be a crumpled but pointy enough wizard’s hat. Ruth watched with an amused curiosity as her friend placed it firmly over her awkward ears, the anger that had soared within them both only a moment ago fading away like a gentle breeze.
“It’s not until the afternoon,” she pointed out as Jennifer straightened out her hat. The wizard did not seem to hear.
“How do I look?” “Yes, yes, it’s a nice witch's hat.”
“A wizard’s hat,” Jennifer corrected lightly, “who do you take me for, some kind of alchemist? Come on we’re leaving.”
“We are?”
She was already opening the door and Ruth had to hurry after her. Once again that urine-infested smell assaulted her senses yet somehow it was more bearable this time. Ruth relaxed as her insides unclenched; the danger seeming to have passed. Still, she hoped Jennifer knew where she was going as they ambled down the stairs.
“You have a car?”
The abruptness of the question took Ruth aback.
“Yes -”
“Great, I’m out of bus money. I have some business. Should be quick if we aren’t walking. Left here.”
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