The Eyeball Collector by F E Higgins

smuggled in by numerous friends who came to visit him in his new home. What Lottie don’t know don’t cause ’er no ’arm, he thought, and from then on the Fitches coexisted quite happily, Ned at the top of the house and Lottie, in the main, downstairs.
    Having renounced her vice, Lottie spent much of her day on the streets proclaiming loudly the evils of drink and handing out her leaflets. And it was on these same streets that she came across Polly. Down on her luck and in despair, Polly was about to try a cup of the beguiling liquid from a gin pipe. Lottie intervened just in time and enlisted her to help out in the kitchen at the Home.
    When Lottie found out that Polly had known Ludlow in Pagus Parvus she was astounded, worried and pleased at the same time, which was quite a challenge to her shrivelled brain – astounded at the coincidence, worried that Ludlow might have told Polly how badly she and Ned had treated their son (he hadn’t) and ultimately pleased that he was alive and well. The good Lord, in one of her many daily visions, told Lottie that one day they would be reunited. Until then, she was content to carry on as before.
    And so it had been for nearly six years.
    Lottie’s thoughts turned back to Hector. He was proving a useful addition to Fitch’s Home, she reflected; willing, reliable and entertaining. He was different from the other boys, there was no denying that – he was a northsider after all. But despite the differences Hector had settled in quickly enough. He might not be much good with his fists but he had proved there were more ways than one to skin a cat. And Lottie had not failed to notice how Polly had taken the boy under her wing.
    Lottie came out of her reverie and went upstairs to take her cloak from a peg in the hall. Her pockets were full of corks (for plugging up the gin pipes) and her bag was stuffed with leaflets. She liked to stand on the Bridge and ask for money to support her boys. To this end she always took a couple of the younger ones along, the two with particularly morose expressions. She had asked Hector once – Lord knows he looked miserable enough sometimes – but he had refused.
    ‘Too soft, ’e is,’ she sighed. ‘Took ’is pa’s death very hard. But a good boy nonetheless.’
    As Lottie came down the steps to the street she saw a figure standing across the road. She thought he might be smiling at her but it was hard to tell with all the people passing by. He had a bag over his shoulder and wore a hat of unusual design. She was certain he was the same fellow who had been there the day before and the day before that. She blinked and he was gone.
     
Chapter Eleven
          
    Article from
The Northside Diurnal Journal
    A quality daily newspaper for the discerning reader
    Honoured Guests at Wine Emporium Opening
By
Tarquin Faulkner
    Lady Lysandra Mandible (pictured above), dressed in an assortment of white fur, looked simply exquisite when she made a guest appearance at the opening of the third branch of Faulkner’s Wine Emporium.
    Lady Mandible was accompanied by Baron Bovrik de Vandolin (also pictured). It has not taken this exotic and enigmatic Baron long to endear himself to Urbs Umidian high society. Since arriving in the City some weeks ago this charming man (a member of the Eastern European branch of the noble de Vandolin family) has proved a highly popular and much sought after dinner, dance and party guest. He has an enviable reputation as a most entertaining fellow of great wit and imagination, and he is also a hero. Who has not heard the tragic story of the loss of his left eye in a duel over a slighted woman? But Baron Bovrik de Vandolin is not the sort of fellow to allow such an optical inconvenience to hold him back.
    As for Lady Mandible herself, she hardly needs an introduction. Without doubt the most beautiful and talented lady to ever have graced the corridors of Withypitts Hall, the Mandible family seat, she has a reputation not only for