Chapter Two part One

Inside the workhouse the boy was dreaming of ghosts again. He knew she was a ghost but he forced himself to stay asleep; the ghost being his mother. The room in his dream was almost identical to the one in which he was currently lain. The same damp walls and cold stone floor. The ceiling was low with a small window placed too high in the wall for a view. In his dream the light of the moon poured through the window, it was silver and shimmered like frost on a winters morning. He couldn't see her face. It would have made little difference if he could as he wouldn't have recognised her. She had died before he was six hours old but still he knew it was her. She felt safe and smelt of warm dough and honey. He breathed her in deeply. In the real world a smile touched his lips.

"You must wake." There was an urgency in her voice that made his smile fade. "He is coming. Wake up, the time has come. The key must be found." Her voice was a whisper and yet it was high and tight with panic. The boy tossed on the thin straw stuffed mattress. "Quickly now, he is coming, he is very near."

His mind was racing back to wakefulness. The part of him that yearned for the mother he had never known, pulled back towards the warm smell and saftey of her. Another part of him, the determined part that fought the misery, cold and hunger of daily life in the workhouse understood. He needed to wake up. Yet it would be so easy to just stay in the darkness. Live in his dreams. In this world he was free.

"Wake up," she cried with such anguish his eyes flew open and his body jolted awake.

He blinked. The urgency of the dream still racing through his body, he lay panting for a moment trying to remember what was so important and urgent. Turning on hus side he regarded the same round window of his dreams only this one had eleven years of dust and grime covering the small panes of glass. He blinked again and strained to open his eyes wide while he yawned.

Outside an Owl hooted. His mind became instantly focused, his body alert. His mother's voice rose in his mind but it was muffled like he was listening under water and he couldn't make out her words. He struggled to drag the dream back. Was something lost, something that had to be found? He glanced around the room. There was a circle of moonlight on the floor at the end of his bed. Deep shadows moved around it. Holding his breath he strained to hear but there was just faint scratching noises coming from beneath the crates that lined the room.

"Rats" .

There was no note of dislike in his voice. Unlike other occupiers of the workhouse, that viewed the beady eyed and scaly tailed creatures with a mixture of fear and revulsion, the boy felt an odd kinship. They had as much right to life and comfort as he did. He eyed one now as it scurried forward into the patch of moonlight, it's nose quivering.

"Odd." He watched as it stepped forward to the edge of the moonlight and hesitated. It lifted its nose to the air, sniffed and waited. A second rat appeared by its side. The first rat gave a high pitched squeal and then dashed across the floor towards him. It settled beside his matteress and looked at him, definitely looked at him, its tiny eyes glittering, its body shaking with urgency.

"What little fella, you want some food. I have nothing for you." The boy was then distracted by the secind rat as it scampered In circles beside the moonlight, it's little claws tap tapping on the stone flagged floor.

He watched fascinated. They were obviously agitated over something. He has never known them to be so bold. The rat stopped running in circles, gave a shrill cry and looked over at him.

The boy's heart stopped. Its was trying to show him something, he was sure of it. The animal gave a shiver and then darted across the floor towards him. Again it came to an abrupt halt at the end of the mattress. It squealed a high pitch scream but it didn't run away. Both rats he noted had skirted the pool of light as if refusing to pass through it or tread on the stone tile in the floor which was bathed in moonlight. It was the cracked, lose one that wobbled when he stood on it. It had wobbled for as long as he could remember.

Rising onto his elbows he peered at the end of the bed. His movements didn't seem to bother the rats they just continued to run this way and that.

Outside an Owl called. The boy paused and listened. The memory of his dream tugging at his mind . He felt his mother and for a moment there was the warm yeasty smell of bread that made him hunger for more than food. He blinked looking around him. Something was lost, he was sure of it. Suddenly the atmosphere in the cellar was tight with urgency. His heart jumped and raced in his chest.

Something wasn't lost, it was hidden.

"Be quick". The boy was sure he had heard the words even though he knew there was no one else in the room beside him.

The Owl called again.

He sensed the shadows moving. Was it the rats? He looked down just as one stepped forward, tentatively onto the wobbling slab of stone. Its fur shone silver in the beem of light. The rat's nose quivered over the crack. It appeared to freeze as if terrified by something and then it retreated and ran scampering into the darkness.

"What?" the boy whispered. It wasn't that he believed animals could talk to him. He really wasn't that type to indulge in such flights of fantasy but he was conscious that through careful observation you could come to understand a creature. There was obviously something bothering the creatures. He began to edge down the bed towards the crack in the floor.