'Sod off,' Ianto stuttered, 'and get something to warm me up.'
'Now may not be the time or place…' Jack turned to Rob and Julia. 'Got any alcohol?'
'No…' Rob was struggling to maintain any feeling of being in control. 'I was lighting a fire…'
'So light it.'
Rob stepped forward before anger stopped him. 'Look! What's going on here? You say you're with the police?'
'Not as such,' Gwen tried to force her face into the most reassuring shape she could manage, used to being the politician among them. 'We're independent of them. But yes, our paths cross from time to time. Why don't we sit down and go through what happened?'
'I'm not staying here a minute longer,' Julia said.
'We saw a woman appear out of thin air…' Rob shouted. 'Killed herself in the bath… not in our bathroom you understand, no, in the spare bloody bedroom…'
'There's a fat man…' Julia added, 'in an old suit… he smells…'
'Banging on the walls, voices in the TV…'
'Your friend, appearing out of nowhere in our airing cupboard…'
'Our bloody airing cupboard!'
Their voices were getting louder and louder, blending into one another.
Gwen knew if they carried on she'd never get them under control. 'Please!' she shouted. 'One at a time… We can handle this, but we need to know what's been going on.'
'Handle it on your own,' Rob said, grabbing Julia's hand. 'We're not staying…'
They marched out of the door, and Gwen turned to Jack.
'One thing at a time,' he spat. 'It's not as if I can shoot them. Though it is tempting.'
The walls shook as the front door slammed closed behind the terrified pair.
Jack struck a couple of matches and touched them to the dry newspaper in the hearth. 'All the home comforts…' he muttered, biting his lip as the words brought a memory to mind…
***
The agent wore his suit as if it were for a wedding or funeral, alien to its woollen threads. Whenever he thought Jack wasn't looking, he pulled at the white collar of his shirt, the starch irritating his skin.
'All the home comforts, Mister Harkness,' he said. 'Modern fixtures and fittings for both fashion and convenience.'
Jack ran his fingers along the patterns in the Lincrusta wallpaper. 'Yes, it's all very cutting edge.'
'Excuse me?'
'An American expression, probably,' Jack replied, brushing the comment away and also, with his finger, a light covering of dust from the Dado rail.
'Oh,' the agent laughed gushingly. 'Of course! America must be so exciting…'
'Especially if you live in San Francisco,' Jack replied. The agent looked bemused. 'Earthquake trouble,' Jack explained.
'Really? How awful. Mind you, we have the odd tremor here in Cardiff.'
Jack smiled. 'There must be a rift here or something.'
'Do you think so?' The agent looked genuinely concerned by the idea. 'I do hope not…'
'I'll take the risk.' Jack laughed and patted the agent on the arm. 'And the house.'
'Oh!' The agent was quite beside himself, and Jack began to suspect this was his first sale. 'How splendid!'
'Yes,' Jack replied, smiling at the man's enthusiasm. 'One thing though.' He stepped out into the hall. 'Might you be able to have a lock fitted to the study? I'm often involved in rather… delicate work.'
This made the agent almost purple with excitement. 'Aha! Secret work, is it, sir?' he asked. 'I thought you carried that look about you. One can always tell a man that might be involved in our country's more "specialised" services.' He winked.
'One would hope not,' Jack replied.
The agent went into a panic. 'Oh… I wasn't meaning to suggest you were in any way deficient in your… ah…'
Jack patted him on the shoulder before he had a fit in the hallway. 'Don't worry, I'm not a spy, and I'm pulling your leg. But yes, my work does often involve the safety of the nation. Sometimes even beyond it!'
The agent nodded and mopped at his sweating forehead. 'Sir, it is an honour then to assist you.' He tried a smile but he was still too nervous, so it gave the impression he was simply exhibiting teeth. 'Perhaps we should return to the office, where we can begin to make arrangements with your bank…'
'Bank?' Jack shrugged. 'I'll just pay cash if that's all right.'
The fire began to curl around the kindling, a cracking sound like a rifle shot bringing Jack out of his memory.
'Lovely,' Ianto stuttered, his teeth still chattering. 'Now if someone would just fetch me a mug of cocoa and enough brandy to knock out a horse, I'll be right as rain.'
'What happened?' asked Gwen.
'I was out on the street,' Ianto replied, 'grabbing some food and keeping my head down for half an hour.' He tugged the blanket tighter around him. 'There was a chronon surge… huge… and this woman… this is going to sound ridiculous… it was as if she was hit by a tram, except there was no tram. I could hear it, the wheels on the tracks, the smell of the ozone. I could even sort of feel it, the heaviness of it coming towards me. It hit her square on and sent her flying towards me. Still you couldn't see it, just this mangled woman, bones snapping but with no… reason.' He looked up at Jack and Gwen and rolled his eyes. 'And if you think that's unusual, just wait until the bit where I vanish into thin air and reappear in the airing cupboard upstairs.'
'Covered in ice,' Gwen added.
'Yes…' Ianto shivered. 'I bet things are going to fall off with frostbite.'
'If they do, I'm keeping 'em,' said Jack.
Gwen ignored him. 'What did you see?' she asked Ianto.
'Not much, to be honest. I've been a bit out of it. I heard the pounding on the walls and the TV turning on by itself.'
'Power surge…' Jack commented.
'And the walls?' Gwen asked.
'That'll be the ghosts.' Jack grinned. 'I'm going to take a look around.'
He marched out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
For a minute he stood in the hall, listening to Gwen as she told Ianto the history of the building. Around him the beams and joists of Jackson Leaves creaked under the weight of the memories they held for him.
He stroked the off-white banister.
'You need a cleaner,' he said, blowing the dust off his finger.
'What?' Jack asked from the first floor.
'"Pardon",' Alison replied. 'Not "what", you dreadful colonial.'
Jack's head appeared from over the banister above her head. 'Do forgive my lack of breeding, madam,' he joked. 'Might I enquire as to what it was that you said previously? My dull foreign ears struggled to catch your regal tone.'
'I said you needed a cleaner, the banister is filthy.'
'Just like its owner, then,' Jack replied.
She sighed but couldn't hide the smile on her lips. 'There's no hope for you.'
'Agreed, none whatsoever. So, do you like the house?'
'It could be lovely,' she replied, 'with a woman's touch.'
Jack smiled down at her. 'I say again: just like its owner, then.'
'Anyone's touch will suffice for him,' she replied, an air of sadness to her voice.
'But your touch is the sweetest.'
She joined him on the landing. 'So you say today,' she replied, 'but who will it be tomorrow?'