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Chapter 8 - Ghosts - Wordsound.

Wordsound was having a bad day. He hadn’t gone home last night, instead choosing to go straight from the hangout to school. This wasn't uncommon, but the spare clothes he’d stored there had been eaten by rain at some point, and he hadn’t had a chance to replace them yet.

Once at school, his teacher had shouted at him for his appearance, a quick wash from the tap by the school gate not good enough for her. Later he had tried to defend himself and received a whack with the cane as punishment. He had missed the rest of the morning, unable to concentrate, stewing in anger and resentment instead.

Come lunchtime most kids either went home for tea, or got something from the hawkers down near Market Street, but he was out of pennies and wouldn’t be welcome at home, so he had instead walked around town, wallowing deep in his misery. When the time had come for him to return to school, he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d mooched around town for a while, before ending up back outside the hangout, which was basically a second home to him at this point. His real home was always too busy and crowded, and he had long ago gotten the message that he was unwelcome there, just another mouth to feed and clothe.

He was lucky that he got free schooling, most kids did, but it wasn't the best. It was all funded by the local factory owners, as a way of keeping them off the street during the day (fat lot of good that was doing), and then when they hit 15 they would have the necessary skills to head straight into work. An almost guaranteed job in the mills or foundries or even the potteries that were springing up on the edge of town.

Although the law stated they couldn’t work until they were fifteen, Blueyes had been doing odd jobs for years now, and Wordsound knew loads of other kids who were working under the table in all sorts of different places. Maybe he should look into it…

With a grunt, he lifted the door up slightly and pushed it open. The lower hinge had rotted out weeks ago, and the thought of fixing it hadn’t even occurred to him.

The place was a wreck, to be honest. They’d nicked some oakum and tried fixing up the shutters last night, to assuage Kitten's whimpering about ghosts, but it was beyond repair. Houses in the city were well built, and it was attached to other places on all sides, so it wasn’t falling down, but the wooden floor was rotting out and the shutters being sealed shut without a fire meant that damp had built up inside, causing the plaster to crumble. The walls hadn’t been repainted in far too long, picking up damp and soot, and although they’d cleared most of the rubbish, it was still a mess.

The Kitten had been here when they’d first arrived, that was how they’d found it, actually. Truedream had found her in the street, lost and confused. An hour or two of detective work and they’d managed to ascertain both where she lived, and that her parents were gone.

The neighbours had confirmed that two men who matched the descriptions she gave had lived here, but that they’d packed up and left almost a week before. A kid? Yeah, that looked like theirs. Poor brat. A shrug and a closed door, not their problem.

Blueyes had been shocked, but he’d lived a more sheltered life than Truedream and Wordsound. His mother had loved him, but she’d died when he was twelve, leaving him alone. The two boys had helped with finding him places to stay, but they were barely welcome in their own homes as it was, adding another mouth to their family's burdens wasn’t an option.

So this place was perfect, really. As far as they knew the landlord had given up on it, one room, too decrepit and out of the way to bother trying to find tenants for. The fact it came with a free Kitten was weird, but that’s how life goes sometimes.

Wordsound squinted around the room. Nothing new since he'd left that morning. Kitten’s bed was empty, and her coat was missing from the hook, so he assumed she’d gone out. They knew she didn’t normally stay inside all day, and who could blame her, the place was a tip.

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He kicked at a bottle lying near the burnt-out embers of last night's fire, hands in his pockets to ward off the chill from the dark room. He should collect those up and take them to the brewery. They’d give him a half-penny each for them if he was lucky, enough to feed them all tonight.

Despite being the ostensibly poorest of them, Blueyes always seemed to have enough money for food. It was always him that turned up with the stuffed pastries or chips wrapped in newspaper, always him that encouraged the others to gather up the bottles. A few days ago Wordsound had opened the door and found a half-keg of small beer in the corner, and none of them had questioned the source. That was just how he was.

With a sigh, he thumped down onto the floor, using his feet to nudge the rubbish he could reach into an untidy pile in the corner. Somebody else would deal with it.

Job done, he lay back on the rotten floor and caught up on the sleep he’d missed last night.

-

He was awoken by a gentle kick in the ribs. Truedream and Blueyes were both back, the latter holding a package of what looked like pig trotters, tightly wrapped in newspaper and still steaming.

Both of them flopped to the floor beside him.

“Where’s the kitten?” Truedream asked, taking the package and starting to break it open on his knee. “You leave her asleep somewhere?”

Wordsound blinked sleepily, looking around the room. “She wasn’t here when I got in, what time is it?”

“Like, 6pm?” Blueyes replied, “I just came to drop dinner off before they need me at the Bull tonight.”

“Ha!” Truedream laughed, done unwrapping the food, “They better scrub you twice before they let you inside, don’t want you tramping horseshit into the carpets. Should I be making you wash your hands before I let you touch the food?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Blueyes rolled his eyes, grabbing for the food, as Truedream laughed and pulled it out of his way.

“Gimme that you thief! You can deny me my food when you’re the one paying for it.” Truedream reached for it again, grinning, limited by the fact he wasn't willing to stand up and ruin the game.

Wordsound smiled sleepily at their antics, stretching and looking around the room.

The fire was still unlit, but they’d scrounged up a couple of candles before they'd woken him, giving the room a comforting glow. Kitten’s bed, in an alcove that most likely once held a second fireplace, was still empty. Their own blankets and mattresses were scattered around the edges of the room, in between the small bits of rubbish and junk that none of them had bothered to clean up. By the door was the obligatory bucket of clean water, he should refill that later.

Reaching for his own portion of food, he frowned, “None of you saw her outside?”

“Who?” Truedream was tucking in now, eyeing up the fireplace as if it might light itself if he glared at it hard enough.

“The Kitten,” Wordsound frowned harder now, drowsiness ebbing away, “She wasn’t here when I came back, and that was like, 2pm?”

Blueyes reached over and thumped him on the head with a greasy hand, “You skipping school, boy? I’ll have to tell your parents about this!”

“Oh lay off it-“ he batted the hand away.

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Truedream spoke up, eyeing up her portion of the food, the dead ashes of last night's fire having decided not to spontaneously burst back into life. “She goes out on her own all the time, she’s a big girl.”

“She’s like 4 years old, Truedream.” Wordsound shook his head, taking a bite of the pork and trying to ignore the worry in his gut. “Shouldn’t we like… Go look for her?”

His friend shrugged, wrapping her food back up in the newspaper and placing it up on the dusty mantelpiece, before it somehow made its way into his stomach. Beside him, Blueyes rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his trousers.

“Thank-you for the meal gents, but I’ve got work to attend. Tell me tomorrow if our Kitten doesn’t turn up?”

The other two nodded as Blueyes pushed his way out of the house. Through the half-open door, Wordsound could see that the sky was getting dark, autumn truly settling in.

Truedream got to his feet as well, shaking out the coat he’d been using as a cushion and grabbing his hat from where it was hanging near the door. “I gotta go check in at home. I didn’t go back last night and my ma shouts at me if I don’t check in every couple of days.” He gave Wordsound a glance, before snuffing out both of the candles and heading outside, “hope the Kitten turns up.”

Wordsound gave him a wave, watching as he left. He started into the empty fire for a moment, and then looked back at the alcove where the kid was meant to be sleeping.

“Fuck.”