Rat Catchers

Of Ghost Children and Rats' Tails

"And what are you up to?"

It had been four days since Rose's sentencing and this was the first time her father had made his way upstairs. She put her notebook on her legs and looked up at him.

"Nothin'."

"What are you writing?"

"A story."

"Why?"

"Because there's bugger all books to read here."

Tommy looked down at her, took a drag from his cigarette and walked away.

Rose listened to the tapping as he swiftly descended the stairs, the thump of the door and the starting up of an engine outside.

#

Her Aunt Ada brought Karl round the next afternoon.

"Even prisoners get to have visitors once in a blue moon," she snapped before Frances even got a chance to open her mouth. "I'll only be an hour, keep your hat on."

"D'you know what's going on, Karl?" Rose asked as soon as the door had fallen shut downstairs.

"No. But it's making everyone act strange, whatever it is." Karl was a clever six-year-old, but a six-year-old nonetheless. "D'you want to play soldiers?"

"Orright."

After all, there was no one to see and fuck all else to do.

#

On day six, just as Rose could hear the sounds of kids returning from school starting up outside, Frances appeared in the doorway.

"It's a lovely day out," she said gently.

Rose glared at her. Frances was a kind person, a perpetually sad, worried, nervous but really mainly kind person. It was not like her to purposefully torment people.

"If you want to play out, Rosie, for just a little while..." Frances was visibly searching for words "...so long as you stay right outside the house."

Rose sat up, she would just catch Alice if she went now.

"Did he say so?"

"So long as you stay where I can see you."

"Did he really?"

Frances looked hideously uncomfortable.

"No," she said and Rose let herself flop back onto her bed and put her pillow over her face. "We can keep it between us, Rosie, not long, mind."

"No, thank you, Frances," Rose's voice was muffled.

"Alright then, Rosie."

Outside there were the distinct sounds of rocks hitting the back of a lorry, followed by the most enticing shouts of adult fury and adolescent mockery. Rose rolled over and nearly bit a hole into her mattress in frustration.

#

Rose tiptoed along the corridor on frozen feet, making her way from the bathroom back to bed. She was nearly at the top of the stairs when the front door creaked open and shut again.

"And what d'you think you're doing?"

"I was only in the lar pom, I swear." Rose remained motionless one foot still on the stairs.

Tommy hung his coat, folded his hat and put it in its pocket.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Not really."

"We'll have a cuppa tea then." He walked through towards the kitchen. "Come on."

Rose slowly made her way back down the stairs and followed. By the time she got into the kitchen her father was pouring himself a gin and the kettle was on. He nodded towards the table and Rose climbed on a chair, drawing her feet under her. Tommy lit a cigarette.