Leggings - the film, and the unrestful spirit.

“I've had,” I stated emphatically, “A week of designing knitting, and making 1940 toilet ware – knitted poodles for your spare toilet roll.”

Kitty giggled, “Go on,” she said admiringly. “Did you honestly get into knitting?”

“Yes,” I said coldly, “First to provide a companion to Trauma Ted, I call her Disaster Dora, she's being reviewed by a knitting group for missing stitches, links etc.”

Kitty cracked up, “I thought you left the shop due to a lack of interest in the design field. Let's have a look, I could put them in the window for you!”

 

I pulled our a bag full of the demonic dogs, “Hey! All colours, red eyed some of them!”

“I like,” Kitty said greedily trying out the empty shape on her hand, “Almost a hand puppet. Quite peculiar. Would you like to try a few in the window. Our new girl, isn't too bad, was at the college herself a couple of years ago, is into Art Deco, and funky.”

 

“Who is she?” I asked, it was difficult to not to be jealous, I'd been replaced, so quickly. “Where’s she from?”

“Her name is Kepi,” Kitty replied, her face amused, “She's from here, and also from

New Zealand. Different culture, and different ideas. She'd love to meet you, certainly we've told her all about you.”

“Well, okay,” I said a little uncertainly.

“Good,” she said, “Let's get together after our morning shift next Tuesday. It's shop dressing day, so bring some of these along. If you want to sell them at the shop, I could try and square it with Phyllis the day before.”

 

I went into the kitchen to make the coffee. How could I tell her what was bothering me the most… What I'd overheard. How rough they were…

 

Kitty sipped her coffee thoughtfully, “I'm still under attack,” she said quietly, “Only now I know exactly who it is, and that they may have approval from higher up. Someone wants me dead.” She shot me a look.

I nodded, “I overheard as much. They're not nice, locally known to be the Hitler family, it's all the last war stuff. Under a different name they do try so hard to come over as nice people. However the local cover is shifting, and they know/report you as having received nothing at all. No matter what they've taken in.”

 

Kitty's face greyed, “I feel all wobbly,” she said shakily. “Honest really wobbly!”

“Apparently it all came to the boil last night (24/10) after the games had been played out. It was said aloud before witnesses as they walked out through the back. Some of the others have been trying to get to me about the books today, trying to say they could make them into films etc. I have them protected, so I'm not worried.”

“Have they ever managed that?” Kitty asked, eyebrows raised.

I thought for a moment, “They might have,” I confessed, “Some of them had control of the books I wrote earlier and the few I did before I left Dragon Hall, might have been given over to them innocently enough. Grandfather and I tried to hide a few. We had contacts back then, some of the film companies took cartoons, stories for films to make later on. I think the last film I saw at the cinema might well have been mine… I took a child to see it. I said to Grandfather it wouldn't be made into a film until the copyrights were out.”

“You cynic!” said Kitty.

“In writing you get to be,” I pointed out. “They are awful, they do you anyway they can.”

“Dragon Hall?” said Kitty, “In Norwich? Here?”

“Yes,” I told her, “I bought it, years ago, and I put a trust fund together to mend it. Lent it to the Historians to look after when I was made to leave Norwich in order to grow up.”

 

“Do you ever plan to go back?” asked Kitty thoughtfully.

“Yes, soon as I can.” I told her, “I'm in touch with some people about the trust fund, to see if it can be found, there is a lot of emergency work to be done.”

“You must be a fair age now then,” Kitty said.

“Yes,” I agreed, “That's another silly thing, there's this silly girl who I don't know, who goes on about me making a list for a birthday party. I'd really rather do other things… She's revolting!”

 

“Where do you know her from?”

“She seems to turn up everywhere I go, and make these daft remarks. I sound like you did at the start now don't I?” I asserted.

“Yes,” Kitty replied grinning, “I like it, Thank God, someone else is where I was. I'm not so bothered about them now.”

“I'm unhappy about them all, I want to live a quiet life, and that is what Dragon Hall would mean. I think I would have to close it, and keep it as a private home. The sprite in my tiny interior house – the original merchants house – keeps on turning over the signs from Leicester Sq., to Piccadilly Circus...”

“Which means?” asked Kitty delighted.

“Means he thinks the visitors are way too loud. Makes him sad.”

“What's he like?”

“He's tall when he stands up, yet short when he moves along, he's bent up like an accordion. Goes up walls. A bit like a cricket. I think he's a Seal. His eyes are lidded and closed. He used to talk, in my dreams. He knows my real name.”

“Is he real?” Kitty enquired hastily, “Or is this because it's Halloween?”

 

“We have the real nasty witches for Halloween. We don't need any more enemies.”

I pointed out as I walked her to the door, she had to get to work. “I'll come round next Tuesday, I promise.”

 

“Right!” Kitty said, “I'll get a cake! You could come around to mine after that, if you like. It's not so bad now. We get a few malingers around the back.”

“One day they'll fence it off.” I said cheerfully, “Or you'll find somewhere wonderful to live on your own. Oh and before I forget my Knit Knack book is on special offer today, on amazon.com. It's worth a look!”

“Shall do!” Kitty said with a grin. “Got the link to it?”

“Better a little flyer, I made for someone else, I got a spare…

 

 

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