'Really?'
'Look. In the vats you stir up tallow, not the past, okay? You just don't, right? I know he's had some bad times, an' that's all I'm telling you.'
'I thought tho,' said Igor. 'I believe he cometh from Uberwald. Thome thtrange and dangerouth thingth come from Uberwald.'
'This might sound a stupid question, but do you come from Uberwald, by any chance?' said Trev.
'Thinth you athk, yeth,' said Igor.
Trev hesitated. You saw Igors around occasionally. The only thing most people knew was that they could stitch you up even better than the Watch and did strange things in cellars and only tended to come out much when there were thunderstorms.
'I think your friend may be very dangerouth,' said Igor.
Trev tried to picture Nutt as dangerous. It was quite hard until you remembered a throw that knocked down a whole goal post half a street away. He wished he didn't.
'Why should I listen to you? How do I know you are not dangerous?' he said.
'Oh, I am,' said Igor, 'believe me. And Uberwald containth thingth that I would not want to meet.'
'I am not gonna listen to you,' said Trev. 'And you are pretty hard to understand in any case.'
'Ith he thubject to thtrange moodth?' Igor ploughed on. 'Doth he get into a rage? Do you know anything about hith eating habitth?'
'Yes, he likes apple pies,' said Trev. 'What're you on about?'
'I can thee you are great friendth,' said Igor. 'I am thorry that I have trethpathed on your time.' 'Trethpathed' hanging in the air considerably added to the water drops hanging in the fog. 'I will give you thome advith. When you need me, jutht thcream. I regret that you will find it very eathy to thcream.' The figure turned and instantly vanished into the mist.
And Igors moved about oddly, Trev remembered. And you never saw one at a football game...
He noticed that last thought go past. What had he tried to tell himself? That someone who did not watch football was not a real person? He couldn't think of a proper answer. He was amazed that he had even asked the question. Things were changing.
Glenda arrived in the Night Kitchen with Juliet sworn to silence, and beneficently gave Mildred and Mrs Hedges the rest of the night off. That suited them both very well, as it always does, and a little favour had been done there that she could call upon when necessary.
She took her coat off and rolled up her sleeves. She felt at home in the Night Kitchen, in charge, in control. Behind black iron ranges she could defy the world.
'All right,' she said to the subdued Juliet. 'We weren't there today. Today did not happen. You were here helping me clean the ovens. I'll see you get some overtime so your dad won't suspect. Okay? Have you got that?'
'Yes, Glenda.'
'And while we're here we'll make a start on the pies for tomorrow night. It'll be nice to get ahead of ourselves, right?'
Juliet said nothing.
'Say "Yes, Glenda",' Glenda prompted.
'Yes, Glenda.'
'Go and chop some pork, then. Being busy takes your mind off things, that's what I always say.'
'Yes, Glenda, that's what you always say,' said Juliet.
An inflection caught Glenda's ear, and worried her a little. 'Do I always say that? When?'
'Every day when you come in and put your apron on, Glenda.'
'Mother used to say that,' said Glenda, and tried to shake the thought out of her head. 'And she was right, of course! Hard work never hurt anybody!' And she tried to unthink the treacherous thought: except her. Pies, she thought. You can rely on pies. Pies don't give you grief.
'I fink that Trev likes me,' Juliet muttered. 'He don't give me funny looks like the other boys. He looks like a little puppy.'