Chapter Text
[Shaky handwriting in a notebook]
On the train to London:—
Dear Norrie,
I ran away. Just like we said we would. Well, I didn’t wait until training was finished but I couldn’t stay there. Not without you. Jacobs fired me anyway. Mum wanted to me grovel at them and beg for my job back but they don’t deserve me after what they did to you us everyone in our group. Everyone died, Norrie. Except us. Well, your ghost locked. But I have to believe that you’ll wake up because what will I do without you Norrie??
[The ink is smudged in some places from drops of water falling on it]
The lady next to me just asked if I was ok. I didn’t realise I’d let tears slip out. I’m under control now though. But its nice to know that even without you and our friends around there is still kindness in the world. I hope in London there is more kindness then at home. After Wythburn Mill the whole town turned on me. Even my mum. [The writing starts to get messier and heavier, leaving indents on the page behind it] Jacobs told everyone that we didn’t ask for help and that he didn’t hear anything. Even though I went out before and told him! I told him we should get out of there and he did NOTHING! And then, you won’t remember this Norrie, but after you were ghost locked I was screaming for help and he came in and I saw him in the doorway his rapier out he LOOKED AT ME and CLOSED THE DOOR ignoring me leaving our friends to die and you ghost locked [A small tear in the page is in the word ‘locked’]
The lady just asked me if I was ok again. I told her yes and took some deep breaths. I just realised I accidentally ripped the page because I was writing so hard. You would laugh at me Norrie. I wish you were here with me. I don’t want to do this alone.
I’ve put together a list of London agencies to ask for a job but I’m hoping Fittes will take me. Fittes is so large and prestigious that it must be better than Jacobs. I bet there supervisors aren’t drunk on the job. Probably not allowed to be or at least I hope not. I am a bit worried that they will notice I haven’t got my 4th grade certificate but I know I am good enough to be there and I’m sure they will see that too.
I’m almost at London so I need to stop writing. But I will write to you again I promise and tell you everything so you will feel like you are here with me. And maybe you can join me one day (hopefully soon!) I love you and I miss you every day.
Love Lucy
[A variety of newspaper cut outs of London agency advertisements are taped onto the next double page spread]
‘BUNCHURCH’
‘DULLOP & TWEED
TALENTED RECRUIT WANTED’
‘Tamworth Psychical Agency’
‘YOU could be our next ghost hunter’
‘MELLINGCAMP [unintelligible] PSYCHICAL AGENTS’
‘JUNIOR required
13-16 YEAR OLDS ONLY’
‘CALLING ALL PSYCHICAL AGENTS’
‘SINCLAIR & SOANES’
[Small neat handwriting in a notebook]
Later, at a cafe:—
Dear Norrie,
I’ve never kept a diary before. I had nothing to write about and then when I did I had you. But now you’re not here and I am in London living out the dreams we planned together with no one to talk to about it. So I’m finding I have a lot to write in here and I do hope I can get it to you someday. I’m sure someone will be able to read it to you and I know you’ll understand. Because you’re Norrie and you always understand.
It has been a long day. I’m writing this at a cafe because I don’t have anywhere else to go. If you were here you’d make me feel better. Say something funny about the snottiness of Londoners and their special agencies.
London is busy and confusing. There are so many people and shops and cars. You’d think having everything so close together would mean you don’t have to walk very far but there is just so much of everything. My back hurts and my feet have blisters. It’s nice to finally be sitting down.
I went to Fittes as soon as I got off the train. That’s another horrible thing about London: there maps are so hard to read. Probably just because there is so much to put on them. But eventually I found directions to Fittes. It was amazing. A large beautiful building that was clean and well maintained. Nothing like Jacobs. Jacobs wishes he had facilities like Fittes did. I was so excited. There was so much information everywhere and pictures of famous agents and Marissa Fittes (!!) and it was all very impressive. I rehearsed what I was going to say in the hour and a half that I waited in line to apply but they didn’t even listen to anything I said. They didn’t even test my talent or skill or anything and if they had I KNOW they would have taken me. But they rejected me straight away. Over an hour of waiting in line for absolutely nothing. You would’ve had words with them I’m sure, Norrie. I would have liked to see it. Maybe I will one day.
And then every other agency I visited did the same thing. So much for hoping Londoners were kind. There not horrible like the people back at home…just mean in a different way. None of them listened to me. It’s like they don’t have time to waste with all the hussle and bussle. I can’t imagine what kind of things they must have to do to not listen to one short story and give a girl a place to sleep. I think the speed of the city is just contagious. I never thought I’d say this but I think they could all benefit from a city wide slow down.
So after being rejected by every agency in London I’m here in this cafe and curfew is in 2 hours and I have nowhere to sleep tonight. But I’m making the most of the warmth and coziness here while I can before I get kicked out. It smells so good but I don’t think I have enough money [This entry finishes abruptly]