We stand around staring at the thing that used to be Pigeon. The rain starts. It’s like rave. A thousand tiny hammers banging on the empty containers, a cloud burst on the old Thames. Good that no one can see me crying. Still fiddling wiv me loose tooth. Thinking about Pidgey Boy. All the laughs we had. My left hand goes to my belly. Blankie is under there. But there is a wave of dizzy coming, sweeping my head away. Legs gone wobbly now.

Someone catches me. Holds me up. It’s Ninja. Now all the eyes are on me. All the gentlemen, and there’s fear in them faces. Even Manleb looks stuck. So I got to say something, I know they like it when I says funeral words. I done it before.

“He loved jumping. He was the best at jumping. It was like he could fly. So we called him Pigeon.”

And this is true to a point. But he was also good at hunting Pigeons so I ain’t sure what came first. And he ain’t been jumping in a while cause we ain’t had the spare calories. But the squad are happy with it. It breaks the mood. Manleb chirps up.

“Viking burial!”

And everyone runs about mad. They all go collecting treasures. Things to give the dead boy. Manleb and Ninja sit him up, Pidgey boy. It takes a lot of fuss. He’s got stiff. But Manleb wants him sitting up against a wall, like he’s just having a good time.

The boys pile up offerings around him. Toys we found mudlarking. Figures of men with big muscles and no heads. Ancient broken guns what shot squidgy darts. And a lot of feathers. We collected Pigeon feathers. Some people paid sterling for ‘em. Made pillows and such. So we covered him in Pigeon feathers. Manleb even found a can of fruity cider, stuck it in his little yellow claw and opened the tin. Poured it out over his head. All went in his open eyes.

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And then it feels like we done enough. Prolly leave him there a few weeks then push him in the river. But there is still an elephant on the barge. Pigeon just died of the yellow sickness. Surely we can talk about that now? Must be a plan?

In any case. We normally go scavving about now. But Manleb seems like his head is far way. I just blurt it out, loud and proud.

“What’s the play Manleb?”

Now he turns. Got that vex look. Real cold. I’m shocked. Like what I done wrong?

“Same as always innit Selly, why wouldn’t it be?”

Big fat yawning silence now. Cept it ain’t silent, it’s so loud I’m drowning in the noise. Gulls doing their rain dance. Hammering hammering rain on the drums of corten steel. The lads freeze. Musical statues.

“What are we gon do bout the yellow sickness, though?”

Don’t know why it comes out as a whisper. Fair question right? Why do I feel like I done a big crime? And the little voice in my head getting louder.

He marches right up to me and throws his fist right through my fizzgog.

The world fades in. Takes a minute. I been left on the deck on my ones. Hand comes up to my face. Bleeding from my snorting cheat. The little voice in my head singing really fast, so fast can’t make it out. Little flashing symbols in my eyes.

Manleb has taken the boys off on a game. I can hear them all playing. Playing in the rain, all soaked through up on top of a container. Raucous game. Slamming each other about.

I notice my milky peg is gone. Must have swallowed it. No tooth fairy.

I think about leaving. Know I won’t.