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Memento Mori

Chapter 11: Billy's New Habit

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Billy's New Habit


24th December 1937, London

"Billy picked a fight with Tom!" Lucy cried out as she ran into Cordelia's room.

Cordelia barely gave her friend a glance before she nodded. With her diary in her hand and a pen in another, she was busy scribbling something, her head full of thoughts. She wasn't surprised that Tom and Billy were fighting nor did she seem to care much.

Lucy observed her idle friend without a word. She thought Cordelia would show concern, jump out of her seat and do something. Instead Cordelia barely acknowledged Lucy's words. She was too engrossed in her current task to react so Lucy decided to just take a seat and look around.

Faded green bunting hung near her window and some paper decorations were strewn about tastefully around the room. Cordelia had made them herself. Lucy made something similar but unlike Cordelia, she didn't really bother to decorate her room since she stayed in Cordelia's room most nights. Cordelia didn't really mind, in fact, it seemed she preferred Lucy's company most days. Tom would still hover around Cordelia but since that eventful trip to the beach, two summers ago, the two had found an odd balance between them. He would only look for her when she was alone and she wouldn't pry into his business. It seemed ideal for Tom yet from what Lucy observed, only Cordelia seemed to be getting any advantages from whatever deal those two had struck up.

"It's snowing." Said Cordelia, still distracted. It wasn't meant to be snowing. The weatherman on the radio said a white Christmas was unlikely yet in front of her, she could clearly see little white cold specks falling from the sky, slowly before the wind picked up and they started to fall heavily. "It shouldn't…be snowing." She gnawed at her bottom lip and flicked through the pages of her diary to get to a random page at the end.

"You moved the beds." Lucy pointed out, noticing how the two beds had been shifted. They were still side by side but Cordelia's bed was now pushed against the window. The other bed had been moved next to the door along with its matching bedside table. The dresser was pushed on the wall opposite the fireplace.

The two beds felt more distant with the fireplace separating the two. "Hmm." Cordelia finally looked up. There was a small barely noticeable scar on her forehead, covered by her hair, a result of her misadventures two summers ago. "You said something Lu?" She asked but again she wasn't really paying attention. Her gaze was on the clouded window.

"I asked if you had the furniture moved."

"Oh. Yes. I did, didn't I. Well, Robbie helped." Cordelia looked around her room and nodded as if she just remembered she had the furniture moved. She didn't want to but everytime she looked at the old layout, she couldn't help but remember those dreams so she had to get them changed. "I couldn't use the fireplace properly before and the men on the news had been claiming it was going to be a cold winter."

"You used it fine before." Lucy pointed out, a little sad at the change. "I don't get why you had to change it."

"I couldn't let the fire burn for long before in fear of the bed catching on fire. I don't have to worry about that anymore."

"But you and I won't be able to talk properly late at night."

Cordelia must've forgotten or she didn't care because when she looked up, she was unmoved by Lucy's complaints. "Lucy this isn't even your room." Cordelia pointed out. "You have your own room on the third floor."

"I don't want it. You know how terrifying it is up there, all alone."

"Robbie and Tom deal with it fine."

"Well I'm not Robbie or…" She hesitated saying Tom's name. Quietly she finished her sentence. "Tom."

Cordelia rolled her eyes at Lucy's dramatic nature and got up to put away her diary. "Tom's not some scary demon that'll get summoned if you say his name a few times, Lu."

"He scares me." Muttered Lucy with a joking smile.

"He scares everyone it seems." Cordelia muttered under her breath, looking outside again. She caught glimpses of people running to take shelter or hurrying home before a snow storm hit and it seemed a storm was indeed on the horizon with how fast snow was falling and how brutal the wind was getting by the minute.

Lucy clearly heard her friend even though it was obvious Cordelia was talking to herself. She did that a lot lately, not really caring if people heard her or not. The only person she didn't speak her thoughts around was Tom, which only made the boy more frustrated. "Not you, apparently." Lucy replied.

Cordelia shrugged, not wanting to look away from the window and miss the beginnings of a snow storm. "There's nothing to be afraid of." Her voice was quiet but still audible and she had a slight dreamy tone to it as if she was half-awake, in between waking and sleeping. "...At least not yet."

Again, Cordelia didn't really care if Lucy understood what she meant. She herself didn't understand what she was saying. The words came to her like a dream and when she spoke, she felt as if she wasn't in control and was perhaps watching someone else live her own life.

She heard her friend sigh audibly to catch her attention—attention she didn't bother to give. "Whatever, Tom scares me."

"Come on now, be nice. It is Christmas Eve." Cordelia herself really didn't care much about Christmas apart from the decorations and the snow. She loved the snow, the cold weather and the warm milk, sometimes with chocolate if they could afford it.

Her family did like the holiday. It was one time of the year where her busy father took a break from work—Cordelia never knew what exactly her father did, he refused to share it with her, always citing that he couldn't. It was the time of the year where her uncle and aunt would also come to stay with them at their house. The house would smell like cinnamon and chocolate as her mother and aunt busied themselves with making desserts and meals for the family while Cordelia and her sister would run around the halls laughing and playing. But those times were no more.

Hearing Lucy groan, Cordelia was thrown back into her warm but dreary room. Her mended quilt covering her lap and her diary in her hands, closed shut but warm from clutching it close to her chest all the time. The old fireplace crackled loudly as it ate all the firewood Margaret had put into its mouth. She got up and grabbed the poker before poking it into the fire and pushed the unburnt pieces of wood into the fire.

"Mrs Cole's going to take us to church." Lucy complained. From what Cordelia recalled, Lucy hated going to church. Cordelia couldn't relate. She'd never been to church. Her family weren't exactly religious, Mrs Cole never forced the other children to go. Lucy, however, was not an exception. "I don't want to go."

"Tough." Cordelia remarked and Lucy glared at her but she didn't really mean it. "If you don't want to go, pretend you're sick—didn't Amy do that once?"

Lucy looked up, trying to recall when Amy did such a thing before she clicked her fingers when she did remember. "Oh that was when we were seven, Delia—"

"Cordelia."

Her friend rolled her eyes and carried on. "I don't think Amy will do anything like that anytime soon."

No, she wouldn't.

The two friends shared a look and Cordelia pursed her lips before looking down at her hands. Amy and Dennis were a sensitive topic at Wool's. They weren't always like that but after that eventful summer, neither were the same again. Nobody heard them speak out loud after that particular day, especially not Cordelia. The two would go out of their way to avoid speaking to her, being near her or even breathing near her. Cordelia questioned them at first but everytime she attempted even going up to the pair—they would scurry off like a pair of rats running from a cat. She tried numerous times and in numerous different ways, eventually after some coaxing from Tom, she had no choice but to give up.

Unstrangely, Tom welcomed this change. He didn't even hide it yet he wasn't gleeful, he was more apathetic. Many at Wool's were like Tom. Robbie and Margaret didn't look into it too much even though Mrs Cole asked them too. The twins even celebrated the new silence of the dreadful pair, not caring about whatever might've happened to them. Fran and Beatrice didn't really care either. Though Fran did express some interest in their condition—for gossiping purposes only, it wasn't out of concern and Martha had to tell her off, only then did she stop. Mary and Peter were more relieved than scared or concerned.

That only left Eric. He was the only one apart from Cordelia who was truly concerned. What set him apart from Cordelia was that his concern was true while hers was born out of guilt. He was after all their friend or at least he used to be.

Amy and Dennis were a mystery to the residents of Wool's now, a mystery nobody wanted to solve, not even Mrs Cole. Cordelia was sure that the old matron was secretly glad the two had shut up but Cordelia didn't think that. She didn't think—no, she knew those two didn't shut up. Occasionally, she would hear whispers or murmurs at night or day of two familiar voices. Their voices were rough and hoarse as if they had been screaming and crying causing their voices to almost leave them. Yet, whenever she came out of her room or turned a corner to inspect the voices, the still and wide-eyed faces of Amy and Dennis would greet her.

Because of their disturbing behaviour, Lucy had taken to avoiding those two and after that many followed her. Cordelia didn't. She didn't really have to—Amy and Dennis already went out of their way to avoid her and Tom.

"...Eric's been trying to talk to them again." Lucy commented without really thinking. She sat on the spare bed and looked at the fireplace.

Cordelia nodded. Eric was stupid to think he could go through those two when not even Dr Wool could get through them. "He's wasting his time." Said Cordelia, tracing shapes into the cold fogged up window. "They're gone, Lu. Whatever happened that summer did a number on 'em." She drew patterns, transfixed on the foggy windows and thought back to the sudden summer storm near the beach that year—the snowstorm outside was alike to then.

"Can't blame him for trying. Peter's gonna be gone after Christmas—I heard Dr Wool's taking him in."

"Really? What for? Didn't he hate children?"

"I don't think he hates children." Lucy paused, trying to remember what else she had heard. "I heard he got married to this nurse so they're taking in Peter—it was a toss up between Peter, Eric and Billy. Y'know they considered taking in Tom for a second."

Lucy finally had all her attention. Cordelia moved her body away from the window and turned towards Lucy. "What? They wanted to take in Tom? Tom Riddle?"

Her friend smiled awkwardly and nodded. "Well, there's only one Tom at Wool's."

"That's why it's surprising they even thought about Tom—I mean he is quite bright."

"Brighter than all of us. You're after him."

Cordelia didn't disagree. Her parents and her sister used to call her a 'bright child' so she wasn't flattered or offended by being second to Tom. She didn't care, she had more interesting things to worry about then how people saw her like why the weather was always acting so odd whenever something eventful happened or her strange dreams, she never remembered when her eyes opened.

Sparing a glance to her friend, Cordelia leaned in to the headboard. "How do you even know all of this Lu?"

"Fran told me." That made sense. Fran's main form of entertainment was others. She didn't like reading unless it was those rags they sold at the newsagents, even then she'd get them second hand—picking them up from train stations or cafés nearby. Sometimes, Fran even stole or as she claimed she 'borrowed' them. If she wasn't reading rags, she was listening to things she shouldn't be. "Fran knows a lot."

"Of course she does." Cordelia wasn't judging Fran. Everyone needed something to entertain them during their free time and Cordelia was rarely ever on the receiving end of Fran's interest. She and Tom were often left out of these things—Fran was uncomfortable around Tom while she and Cordelia had a cordial relationship. "Be careful, Lu. Fran got into trouble last week for listening in on Martha's conversation with Mr Walbridge from the newsagents around the corner."

Lucy made a face. "You make it seem like I'm the one who's eavesdropping. I'd never."

"And I believe that as much as I believe Eric whenever he's nice."

"I'm not Eric and he is nice—to you. I think he fancies you. You might be his first l—"

A pillow flew through the air and Lucy barely managed to dodge it. The pillow, however, didn't land on the old wooden floor but instead was caught by none other than a furious Tom with his right sleeve uncharacteristically folded.

Seeing him, Lucy's eyes widened and she let out a small barely audible squeak, quickly avoiding his gaze. Cordelia glanced over at her friend and gave Tom a look to soften his expression. Tom didn't move.

Whatever happened with Billy had made Tom mad and an angry Tom was an unhappy Wool's.

"That…mug—bas—Billy!" Tom breathed loudly through his nose.

Cordelia sat up, discarding her diary to the side and her quilt. She tried to hide the oncoming amused smile on her face by keeping her face as blank as she could. "What happened this time?" Asked Cordelia, taking in Tom's appearance.

An old ratty green sweater that Cordelia was sure belonged to one of the twins before, black slacks that looked fairly new and black shoes. Of course, one of his sleeves was rolled up—not folded up as she had previously noted. On his right arm there was a red angry mark with teeth marks printed onto his skin.

"Billy." Spat out Tom like it was a curse. "Billy Stubbs." He carried on, handing Cordelia back her pillow and watching her as she put it back in it's place.

"Did you fight off a badger or something?" Lucy questioned without thinking who she was speaking to.

Tom turned his head a little and looked at her with disinterest, rage was still coursing through his vein like a wildfire and if Lucy wasn't careful she'd get burned.

"Lu." Cordelia quietly warned her friend. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her friend.

Innocently, Lucy looked up at Cordelia. At times, Lucy could be the most scatterbrained individual at Wool's even more so than Fran and Mary. "Henwood, don't you have chores to tend to?" Tom casually said while staring at Cordelia, almost asking her to do something about her friend.

Cordelia kept her mouth shut, she refused to command Lucy to leave. Why should she? It was Tom who interrupted them. Lucy glanced between the two and nodded before scurrying off into the halls without closing the door behind her.

"Why do you always have to scare people like that Tom?" Cordelia got up to close the door before sliding down to the floor and sitting in front of the closed door.

Tom sat down in front of her. "Not my fault they're always hovering around me."

"Doesn't mean you have to scare them away."

"Theyare afraid of me, it's not my fault." He countered. It was his fault. Cordelia wasn't completely stupid, she saw things and knew things she wasn't supposed to but like always she turned a blind eye to keep peace. She knew he stole things from the other children. She knew bad things would happen to those who crossed him. "I don't see why I have to be nice when they're not."

He had a point but Cordelia wasn't easily swayed. "It's Christmas Eve Tom. Be nice. It's the least you can do after being a menace the entire year." As Cordelia spoke, the corners of her lips went up and she couldn't help but flash him a teasing smile.

"Menace?" Tom growled out. "I'll have you know I've avoided most of these stupid people."

"Yes, of course or they avoided you."

"Not my fault." He repeated.

"Never is. You need to stop scaring Lucy away, she's the only one left in my small group and I'd appreciate it if you stopped coming in unannounced—Mrs Cole said it's not appropriate for children our age especially since you'll be eleven soon."

Tom made a face. "This isn't even Henwood's room. If you ask me, she's overstaying her welcome here."

Cordelia had to agree with Tom there. Although she liked Lucy's company, she valued her own alone time more. Unfortunately she hadn't found the time to be alone with her thoughts with the increase of her chores—she had to take on some of the washing up. There was also Tom, he had the constant need to speak to her at least ten times a day and she honestly found it annoying but somehow she was now used to it. At night, Lucy wanted to talk about the happenings at Wool's, something Cordelia cared little about. She didn't even have time to read alone anymore, only making some time to write letters to her uncle.

Her uncle.

Thinking about him made Cordelia a little upset. After her distressed letter to him before that summer, she got a reply—a reply that only chalked her dreams to her imagination. She didn't really blame him, her letter was vague. Nevertheless, he did promise he'd look into it or ask someone he knew.

"She's still my friend Tom." Tom rolled his eyes. "Don't make that face Riddle." She reached out to ruffle his already messy dark hair but Tom anticipated her actions, moving away in time. She hadn't noticed that Tom's hair was messy. He never kept his hair messy. "What happened?"

He scowled and breathed out loudly through his nose. Alright, he was furious. "Billy happened. That ba—idiot bit me."

"...Bit you?" Questioned Cordelia with wide eyes and head tilted to the side in confusion. Before she could stop herself, she started to giggle.

"Alright laugh it off but he bit me."

"I'm sorry I can't believe he bit you. Do you think you're gonna get rabies? Mrs Cole told me if you get bit, you can get rabies and die."

"Only if it's by an animal, Cora. Though maybe I ought to be worried with the way Billy behaved today." Glancing down at his wound, Tom couldn't help but grimace at the wound. "Look at it. He's an animal."

"Seems like being with that rabbit day and night, turned him into one too. He must've mistaken you for a carrot." Cordelia quipped.

Tom was not amused. "He. Bit. Me." He had to spell it out for her. "He's never done that before."

"Well, what did you say to him?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was just there walking back to my room and he goes on about how I don't have many chores—"

"You don't."

"Don't interrupt me."

"Sorry." She said sarcastically, leaning back against the door. "Carry on."

"Anyways, I ignored him like I usually do. Jack or Joe, one of them twins, pointed out how Billy wasn't doing any work either. Billy got mad and without warning, he tackles me to the ground."

"But you didn't say anything!"

"Exactly. I ignored them like you told me to and he attacked me."

"Then he bit you."

"He bit me."

"He's an animal and you should've put something on that—" Just as Cordelia had said that, the doorknob above her started to jingle and shake. Someone was trying to get in.

Both children in the room stilled, Tom had a dark look on his face. He didn't like it when the two were interrupted. Fortunately for him, Cordelia was busy listening to the rattling to pay him any mind. "Cordelia?" Martha's soft voice could be heard from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?" The nurse called out.

Hearing her name, Cordelia got up and gave Tom a look. He was in trouble—he didn't care, it wasn't like he was going to get punished for what he did. It was Billy that bit him. "Evening Martha." Cordelia opened the door with an awkward smile.

The nurse breathed out in relief and scanned her appearance before trying to peek inside her room. The fire Margaret had helped start was still roaring while in front of the fireplace was none other than Tom with his back turned. "Oh thank god, Tom's here. I've been running around lookin' for him."

"Really?" Cordelia turned her head to look at Tom but he had his back to her. "Is it because Billy bit him?" She asked with a mischievous grin.

Martha tried to stifle her own laugh and nodded. "...Yes, I can't believe Billy bit someone. It's not like him."

"Isn't he always in a mood during Christmas?"

"Suppose he is." Martha agreed, breathing out tiredly. Billy was abandoned on Christmas. He was like many children at Wool's where they had parents but their parents didn't want to be parents. He was only four at the time—he still remembered them vividly. Mopsy was a gift from Martha for Christmas the following year. It only made sense the two were inseparable. "Tom?" Martha called out to the boy with back turned. "I've got something for your arm."

Tom only turned a little to give the nurse a disinterested nod before focusing his attention elsewhere. Martha thought he was staring at the fireplace, that was what Cordelia thought as well until she turned around to let Martha in did she realise that Tom's attention was on her diary.

The nurse came into the room and put down a heavy box of ointments and bandages. She motioned to Tom to give him his arm. Reluctantly, he laid out his arm in front of the nurse as Cordelia took a seat, grabbing her discarded diary and shoved it under her pillow inconspicuously. She'd have to find a new hiding spot for her diary which wasn't her room. Tom had his attention on it.

Silently and quickly, Martha worked on treating Tom's wounds before carefully wrapping it in gauze. Looking at it a bit closer, Cordelia felt bad for making fun of him—Billy had really bit deep and any deeper, he would've taken a chunk of his flesh.

"...Looks terrible." Cordelia murmured under her breath, barely audible for either Martha or Tom to hear.

"It does." Martha agreed, cutting the gauze. "Don't know what got into Billy this evening."

"He's spending too much time with that rabbit of his." Cordelia joked with a grimace on her face. She even hissed in pain despite not being in pain whenever she looked at Tom's wounds.

Tom hid a smile and nodded. "He needs to be separated from that rabbit."

"Yes but we all know how he reacts when he loses sight of Mopsy—all done then." Martha tied up the bandage and stood up. "I expect you two to be down for dinner soon and afterwards in bed since you two will not be going to the midnight mass."

"Neither will you." Cordelia pointed out.

"I hardly go anyways. Now then, I'll see you two at dinner." Tom wasn't listening, too busy searching for Cordelia's diary.

Cordelia observed him for a second. He was all serious but less angry than before. "Do you want to take a nap on the spare bed before dinner?" She offered after a brief moment of silence.

Tom stood up and lay down on the spare bed. Cordelia went to the dresser, taking out one of the old quilts that once belonged to Katie. She tossed to him and he caught it with ease before covering himself with it. Cordelia watched him carefully as he laid down again and shut his eyes. Only when she saw his eyes were shut did she look away.

Going under her own covers, she took out her diary and flicked to an entry marked '25th December 1937' in a handwriting like hers but much neater and easier to understand. She scanned the page putting all her concentration into deciphering it's words while not noticing the quiet gaze of Tom from across the room following the smallest of her movements.

Notes:

Author's Note: So the cat and mouse games begins.