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HARRY COULD REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME HE FOUND KAT PASSED OUT IN THE GRAVEYARD. She had just came back from London and he had never seen her look worse. Her face was gaunt, her cheekbones sticking out of her face in a sickly way and her eyes looked sunken. Her usual voluminous hair was flat and greasy, pulled unattractively behind her ears. The most haunting part to look at were her eyes. They were sunken into her face in an unnatural way, highlighting how dead they looked. Normally her eyes were the most energetic part of her, the easiest way to deduce her emotions.

The woman had sat in his kitchen all day, staring at the cold cup of tea in her hands. Harry had closed the Garrison for the day, claiming a personal day for grief. He worried about his niece, knowing that their deaths would affect her immensely.

As he looked at her now, six years later, he knew that to be true. Katherine Williams had never looked worse. She rested her head against the kitchen table, a basin only a few inches away in case she felt the urge to vomit. Harry had tried to clean the wounds on her palms and knees but found himself inadequate to do so. Kat didn't care.

"You can't keep doing this, Kitty Kat." The nickname of her childhood slipped past his lips quicker than he could stop it but Kat didn't react to it. Kat was too busy trying to not to pass out on the kitchen table - though she really wanted to.

Harry had gone through the kitchen cupboards, hoping to find something decent for Kat to eat but found nothing. Kat didn't speak the whole time Harry sat there with her and when he was forced to leave to open the Garrison, she slowly lifted her head. Harry briefly saw the bloodshot eyes before he closed the door behind him.

When Harry left, Kat slept on the kitchen table. It wasn't a comfortable position but in her hungover state she didn't care. She got about an hours sleep before someone knocked on her door again. Kat's head snapped up and she cursed the throbbing headache that pounded from deep within her head. She stumbled to her feet and reluctantly made her way to the front door. She hoped it wasn't Harry again, she couldn't bare look at his disappointed face once more. She opened the door and quickly realized that this was worse.

Little Bobby was clutching the stern hand of Polly Gray, who looked anything but pleased to be there. The disgusted look on her face morphed into one of annoyance as she took in the state of the woman in front of her. Bobby, too young and innocent to recognize the symptoms of a hangover, looked at her in concern. "Are you sick?"

Kat wished Bobby came back later in the day so he didn't have to witness Kat like this. She sighed and tried to brighten up her face, whatever that meant. "Just feeling a little unwell, lad."

Bobby looked at her in concern but didn't say anything. Kat walked into the house, hearing both Polly and Bobby following her in. Polly whispered something to Bobby which Kat couldn't hear and Bobby ran upstairs. Polly then followed Kat into the kitchen and looked unimpressed at Kat who sat at the kitchen table. "Unlike the child, I do you know what a hangover looks like. Had my share of them."

Rumours || Thomas Shelby [1]Where stories live. Discover now