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trigger warnings: mentions of suicide and death
★。／｜＼。★
CAM'S POINT OF VIEW
FLO HAD TAKEN THE TWO boys to a small café that was built upon a boat, where she'd agreed to tell them what she knew about Danny, before he died.
Cam sat on Lockwood's left, beside the wall, with a teacup in front of him as he poured in the milk from a small jug. The café was extremely small, but it was cosy: posters were put up around the place, and each table had little ornaments in the centre. The lights were dim but there were multiple of them: Cam liked them more than the big overhead lights that most cafés — or buildings in general — used.
Cam looked over at Lockwood, who was fixated on buttering a slice of toast, and cutting it diagonally, before he slid it over to Cam, giving him a gentle smile which Cam returned.
He must have noticed how I cut my toast. He thought to himself. It was either that, or Cam was overthinking it and that's just how Lockwood happens to cut toast.
"Poor Cloughy," Flo said as she walked over to the small table, cup of tea in hand as she sat down in front of the duo, "He asked me out once. Been drinking, obviously," she stated as if they'd both know.
"It's not 'obviously'," Lockwood disagreed. He had his arms crossed and leant of the table.
"Yes, obviously. He was always drinking and that's how they would have got to him," Flo explained, sitting back in her chair, "Who?" Cam questioned, "Parasites. Scum,"
"Why didn't Tendys help him? He must have worked for them for years," Flo shook her head, "Tendy's doesn't give a shit. He was on his way out. Talent fading, expendable,"
Lockwood spoke up again, urgency in his tone this time, "We need to find Danny's partner. Whoever it was that left him for dead,"
"That'll be Jack Carver. But you do not want to find him. Trust me,"
Lockwood glanced at Cam and then at Flo, "We have to. This is important Flo. Please," There was a clear moment of silence where the pair could tell that Flo was debating on whether to tell them something or not. Clearly, she must have chosen to tell them, "Leave a message on that board, and he might come and find you,"
The two boys swivelled around in their chairs, facing the back of the building, where a large pinboard was hung. It was filled with all sorts of posters, adverts, notes, newspaper clippings and so on.
"It'll have to be the right kind of message though. One he can't ignore,"
Lockwood reached into one of the many coat pockets he had, and pulled out a small black bound notebook. He quickly flipped to an empty page, pausing for a moment before turning to Cam, "I don't suppose you have a pen, do you?"
"Uhhh . . ." Cam reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out a ballpoint pen. He quickly scribbled a little circle onto his hand to make sure it worked before handing it over to Lockwood, who gave him a smile of appreciation before he quickly wrote down on the paper.
Cam leaned over, reading the words as they were written, "'We know about the mirror'," the boy frowned, looking up at Lockwood, "And our address? That is a suicide note,"
"Well, we need to make sure he shows up. He's our only hope," he told the boy looking up at him as he folded the note in half. He handed the pen back to Cam, placing it in his hand which was resting on the table.
Him and Flo watched as the boy walked up to the backboard, pinning the note in the perfect space on the board, before he sat back down with them again.
"Tell me about their network. How do they move their goods?" Lockwood asked, sliding his notebook back into his pocket. "They're in business with Julius Winkman,"
Cam frowned at the name; he'd heard it before. Surely.
Julius Winkman. Julius Winkman. I've heard of him, who are they though? His thoughts rambled madly before he came to the realisation, "As in Julius Winkman, married to Adelaide Winkman?" the names of the family came rushing back to him.
The details of the night he'd heard of the names, and had then met them in person were still fuzzy, but they were coming back to him. Cam had been no more than ten at the time; his father had brought him to one of his inspections of relics, which he intended to sell to a buyer in Poland. Cam remembered how that was the last thing he wanted to do, but his sister wasn't old enough, yet.
He could remember very faintly what the Winkman's looked like. They had a rich aura to them, most likely because of the way they dressed. Adelaide with her bold coloured dresses that were tightly fitted, always accessorised with a string of pearls in some way. And Julius, with his grey suits and bland colours in comparison to his wife.
They weren't people to mess around with.
The woman and boy looked at him with confused expressions, "You know who they are?" they asked almost perfectly in sync.
Cam nodded very slightly, "Only a little bit. Just rumours and words that have been passed around," He didn't need to explain the whole backstory to them. It wasn't as if they were meeting up with Winkman's.
"Well then, you probably already know this Cam, but I'm warning you both, do not go poking that nest," Lockwood furrowed his brow slightly in confusion, "What do you mean?" "She means that they'll kill you," Cam answered instead, "If Carver doesn't kill us, they will,"
Lockwood nodded slightly, staying silent for a moment, most likely scheming the next step to finding the mirror.
"Thanks Flo," he reached into his pocket, grabbing out an object which had been wrapped up in a piece of navy cloth, "Something to remember Danny by. The way he was," Inside the fabric was the shiny Tendy's badge that George had found earlier on.
Flo stared at the badge for a few moments, running her finger over it carefully before looking up at Lockwood, "You know I'm always surprised when you turn up to see me, Locky. I thought you'd be dead by now,"
Cam watched the boys emotions carefully. He kept the smile up, however there was a split second where it disappeared. He turned to Cam after that split second.
