A few hours later, Rowanne was awoken by a knock at the door. She sat up with a start. Gazing around blearily, it took her a few minutes to get her bearings. Now she was regretting her earlier sudden movements. Carefully, and with a few moans and groans, she got to her feet, and checked everything was in order, and that the tail - maybe she should say her tail now? - was tucked away neatly out of sight.

She had barely made a step towards the office door when Mary stirred and grabbed her hand. "Can I come?” Rowanne, still half asleep, simply gave a nod.

It was Charles, wearing that trademark grin of his. Rowanne had always considered him a friend despite the fairly sizeable age difference between them. He was about forty, with a dash of salt and pepper just starting to show in his hair. He gave an affable smile and stepped inside.

“Here, I believe this is yours,” he said, handing her a bag of coins that seemed far heavier than it should be, then much to her amusement a handwritten receipt, signed by Jacob for the minerals, her eyebrow raised as she noticed the mark said high grade.

“If I believed a word out of that smarmy git's gob, he would have left ye with tuppence for the lot. Lucky for us, afore ah took the job for the Association ah was an appraiser, so ah took a gleg at it misel. Ye also got hazard pay for the day, 3 shillings for Sidhe related injuries while on the job, and as the law states a week off - plus a day cause ah had Jacob ower a barrel”.

At that, Charles puffed out his chest even further, and gave a cheeky wink. Rowe couldn’t help but chuckle at this. Charles was handsome, and he knew it, but so did half the lads on the docks. It was something of an open secret between them. One they guarded fiercely, because the law was not exactly on his side in this. Or Rowanne's for that matter, but that wasn’t important right now.

“Ta marra, appreciate it, ah’ll stand ye a roond next time we’re at the pub alreet?”

To that he gave a playful bow. “Dear lady, I remain ever at your service," he said, in his floweriest affected southern accent, before adding with a cheeky smirk, "especially if alcohol is involved”. He was doing that on purpose of course, he knew that speaking Queen's always made Rowe's skin crawl, so she shot him a hacky look.

“If ah could reach ah’d clip ya lug for that," she chuckled, feeling a little better for the presence of an old friend.

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“Ye’d need a stepladder to even reach mi shoulder and ye knaa it,” he shot back, the tension from earlier seeming to melt away a little bit as the pair joked together.

“We'll see about that ya cheeky git” she said jumping as high as her exhausted body could manage and hit SHOULDER before landing with a dissatisfied groan, while Charles laughed his back off and somehow looked even smugger than before.

“Even for Jacob, bringing up your family name tea imply ye were a scab was a hacky move. Ah did na even knaa he could stoop lower, ah swear better things than him craal oot from under a snake's belly with a top hat on. I knew your granda. I knew your da, and ah knaa your granda moved up here to marry your grandma.” He raged, “trying to call ye a blackleg cause of where your kin are from is just a manky move.”

“He isn’t worth getting fired just to belt him yan,” Rowe responded with a shrug. “Though getting in the way of mi reunion with Mary like that came canny close. Now thanks for the help there Charles, ah owe ye yan, but for now ah need to get hyem, get changed, and then tell Margaret the news about George, and I’m canny sure ye need to keep an eye out ta mek sure Jacob does na shaft her out of the proper compensation, ah knaa he was close to retirement, so I’ll leave that to ye.”

“Count on it,” Charles replied. “If he trues owt like that ah’ll mek sure that suit of his finally gets buried, with him wearing the bugger. Tarra for now kidder."

With that, they finally slipped out and headed into the village proper, not that it was much of a village - 6 streets and a narrow gauge station, and a duck pond in the middle that was always suspiciously devoid of any ducks. Rumour had it the absence of ducks was due to the nearby Gremlins developing a taste for them, but since nobody could ever catch the little gits it was hard to be sure.

The village green was a bit scabby - but weren’t they always - and in an attempt by the Colliery owners to save a little bit of cash there was always at least one Cuddy staked out to graze. There was a small hut at the far end of the village that served as a school, and a garden behind each of the houses. Rowe wearily opened the door and let herself in, Mary fussing over her like a mother hen with only one chick. Usually that mental image would amuse her, but not today.

Rowanne managed to convince Mary to give her some privacy for a few minutes; no mean feat given how shaken up the poor bairn was over all this. Then she quickly changed into some clean gear, and lit a light in the window.

On a night like this, you covered the mirrors and lit a light so the lost ones could make their way home.

Then once that was done, she grabbed Mary and headed off to Margaret's place to make sure she knew what had happened. A twinge of guilt nestled deep into her heart at the thought that she had been unable to save him. Rowanne had to at least do that, she owed it to George. Anybody else in the village would be able to comfort each other, but George and Margaret, they were different, they only had one another.

“Best behaviour, Mary,” Rowe told her sister, and Mary could feel the weight of the circumstances, so she knew this was serious and simply gave a nod as they finally got to the old blue gate that had been kept looking like new with constant repainting for as long as Rowe could remember, and headed to the back door.

Margaret never answered the front door. Her and George both believed nothing but bad news and the post came through the front door. Today, the bad news would come even if she ignored the door, and Rowanne could see a worried looking Margaret keeping herself busy in the kitchen.

Rowe braced herself, her heart sinking in her chest as she knocked.