Otto Tattercoat and the Forest of Lost Things Page 2

  “Green, I guess.” Otto didn’t care about the colour of his coat. He had more important things to worry about.

  “I can see it’s green,” the girl continued. “But what type of green?”

  “Emerald, I suppose. That’s what my mother called it: my emerald-green coat.”

  “And what’s it made of? It looks soft.”

  “I’m not sure,” Otto said.

  “Can I touch it?” Before Otto could say no, the girl ran her fingers along the emerald sleeves and over the thick pockets. Eventually she let go of the coat and looked up at the boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Otto.”

  “I’m Nim.” She shook his hand. “Is your coat new?”

  Otto shook his head. “I’ve had it for a year.”

  “I’ve never seen it before. Are you new to Hodeldorf?”

  “I’m from Dortzig. My mother wanted to come here. She’s a coat maker. But business in Dortzig isn’t what it used to be, and she thought lots of people would want coats in Hodeldorf. She could probably make you another one if I ever find her.”

  Nim looked extremely offended by this. “No self-respecting tattercoat would wear two coats,” she said. Then, after a pause, she remarked, “I’ve never met a coat maker before. Your mother must be real good. That’s the finest coat I’ve ever seen.”

  “She’s the best at making coats,” Otto agreed.

  Nim wished she had a mother, even just a lost mother who couldn’t make coats at all. But she knew it wasn’t to be. She was a tattercoat. That meant she had to sleep on the rooftops and look after herself.

  Nim was about to ask another question about the coat when a black-haired boy raced down the street. He grabbed the right sleeve of Otto’s coat and began to pull it off.

  “Hey!” Otto yelled. He tried to push the boy away. “This is mine!”

  “Not any more,” the black-haired boy said. He scuffled with Otto for several seconds. Eventually, he pulled one sleeve off and then the other. The coat fell into his hands. He shoved it under his arm and ran into the crowd.

  “Hey,” Otto screamed. “Give it back!” He turned to give chase, but tripped over in the snow, and when he looked up, the boy was nowhere to be seen. “Thief! Thief!” Otto called helplessly, but no one in the crowd turned to look except for Nim.

  “No one turns when they hear that word,” Nim said. Otto looked far less grand without his emerald coat. “We’re all thieves down here. Even the animals. Take Nibbles, for instance.” Nim reached into her right pocket and pulled out a scraggly old grey rat. He had wonky whiskers from getting trodden on and quite a few were missing. He was wearing a tiny faded blue coat of his own. “He’s the second-best thief I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s a rat!” Otto said, stepping away. He wrapped his arms around his chest. Partly, it was to get away from the rat, but mainly it was to keep out the cold.

  “Sure is,” Nim said proudly. “Isn’t he grand?” She stroked the rat lovingly with her finger.

  Otto looked disgusted.

  “The only thief better than Nibbles is Blink,” Nim said. “He’s the one who just stole your coat.”

  “Where’d he go?” Otto asked. Without a coat to protect him, Otto had begun to shiver. His hands were turning purple. He put them in his trouser pockets to keep his fingers warm.

  “No one knows. Blink just appears from time to time, grabs something he wants – usually a coat – and then disappears. Once, no one saw him for a month. All us tattercoats thought he was dead until he stole five schnitzels in the main square.”

  Otto was about to ask what tattercoats were, when he realized he had been robbed of something else. His trouser pockets were empty.

  “Hey,” he said. “Someone stole my money.” He was about to blame Blink when he noticed the rat in Nim’s hand was chewing on something silver.

  “Where’d you get that coin?” Otto said.

  “Err …” Nim shoved Nibbles back into her pocket. “What coin?”

  “You’re a thief too!” Otto yelled. He looked at Nim and then at her wriggling pocket. Nibbles had stuck his head out again and was waving the silver coin triumphantly above his head. “You’re both thieves!”

  “Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Nim said. “We’re all thieves down here.”

  Otto shook his head. “You’re just as bad as Blink.”

  A cloud of anger crossed Nim’s face. Even Nibbles looked offended by that comment.

  “How dare you?” she said. “I’m not at all like Blink. I was going to give you back your coins. But after that accusation, maybe I’ll keep them for myself.”

  “Then you really will be as bad as him,” Otto said. His lower lip began to tremble. Not only had he lost his mother and his coat, but now he had lost all his money. What was he going to do?

  Nim looked like she wanted to disappear into the crowd. But instead she took the coin from Nibbles and pulled five more from her pocket. She handed them back to Otto.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Otto was about to thank her when he realized one coin remained missing.

  “Where is it? The last coin?”

  “In my pocket.”

  “Give it back.” Otto held out his hand. “It’s mine.”

  “But I earned it,” Nim said.

  “Earned it? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s payment for our service,” Nim said. “If me and Nibbles hadn’t stolen the coins, Blink would have taken them all and you never would have got any of them back. Thanks to me and Nibbles you’ll be able to buy your dinner.”

  On that note, Nim decided it was time for her and Nibbles to leave.

  “Goodbye, Otto,” she said to the boy without a coat. “I hope you find your mother. And be careful. You can’t trust anyone round here.”

  Otto had a feeling she was right.

  4

  THE BLACK-HANDED GIRL

  “Ain’t it beautiful, Nibbles?” Nim said as she held the silver coin up under the dim winter sun.

  Nibbles poked his head out of her pocket and twitched his whiskers in the cold air. It was like he could smell their good fortune: like he could smell there was a very fine feast coming their way.

  “And right you are,” Nim said as they headed towards the main square. “But not a very large feast,” she warned. “If we eat too much, we’ll spew it all back up, and then it would be wasted.”

  The crowd grew larger as they approached Hodeldorf Square. Nibbles scampered on to Nim’s shoulder, where he had a fine vantage point of all the treats up ahead.

  Nim and Nibbles smelled the chicken frying in Mister Muller’s schnitzel store, the batter bubbling away in Frau Neumann’s pancake house, and the thick, juicy pork hocks stewing away in Mister Kruger’s Inn. After inspecting every food stall, they decided to buy something sweet and warm.

  The store bell twinkled as Nibbles and Nim stepped inside. The shop was warm and bright, and Nim felt her cheeks grow rosy with colour.

  “Look, Nibbles,” Nim whispered as she inspected the pastries streaming up the glass cabinets around her. “Look at all that jam oozing out. And I’ve never seen such a rich-looking custard.”

  Nim approached the counter and smiled up at the storekeeper. The man’s own smile dropped when his eyes fell upon Nim.

  “Get out,” the storekeeper said. “Get out of my store. I’ll have none of your sort in here. It’s bad enough half of you sleep on my roof. Even when I spray you lot with water, you never leave. Now shoo!” He waved his arms towards the door. “You’re thieves. The whole lot of you. Get out.”

  “But I’m here to buy my supper, not steal it,” Nim said. “See?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her silver coin.

  “And how did you get that?” the storekeeper asked. “Stole it, I suppose?”

  Nim shook her head. “I was given it by a gentleman for providing him a service.”

  The storekeeper looked very sceptical about this. So sceptical
, in fact, that he grabbed a broom from the corner of the store and tried to brush Nim out the door. Unfortunately for him, Nim was not a speck of dust that lay motionless on the floor. She was fast as lightning. Quick as a wolf. Nimble as a fox. And an old sweaty man brandishing a broom was not going to get rid of her.

  “But I’m telling the truth,” Nim said as she darted away from the broom. “I swear it’s the truth. Please, just let me buy some food. A silver given by a tattercoat is worth the same as a silver given by a lady.”

  “I don’t trade in stolen goods,” the storekeeper growled.

  “Fine.” If the man wasn’t going to be nice to Nim she wasn’t going to be nice to him. “If you won’t let me buy anything, I’ll steal it instead. And I’ll tell all the other tattercoats to come in here and steal things too.”

  After all the sweeping and hitting and darting, Nim now stood behind the counter, right in front of the register which held the day’s earnings.

  “Don’t you dare,” the storekeeper said.

  “Oh, I will,” Nim replied. After four years on the streets she knew that if manners weren’t getting you anywhere your next best bet was a threat, even just an empty one.

  Luckily for Nim, her empty threat worked. The storekeeper’s face grew as pale as an unbaked strudel, and he dropped the broom.

  “Please,” he begged. “I can’t have tattercoats running amok in here. I’ll lose my customers.”

  “Then take my coin, give me two apple tarts and I’ll be on my way.”

  The storekeeper sighed and took the money. When Nim left the store, the change in her pocket jingled louder than the bell on the door.

  “We’ll keep most of these nickels for later,” Nim said as she bit off a piece of the tart and handed it to Nibbles. “But I think we can spend a little bit more on something special for you.”

  While the tarts were still warm, Nim went to the tailor’s and bought the finest square of fabric she could find. It had been two years since she’d last made a coat for Nibbles. It was now so frayed it was about to fall off.

  Nim placed Nibbles on the cobbled ground. She draped the material – bright blue with yellow suns – around his little neck. She’d stitch it into a coat tonight.

  “Look at us,” she said to her friend. “Nibbles and Nim: the grandest duo in Hodeldorf.”

  Nim held out her hand and Nibbles stepped on to it. She was just rising to her feet when a voice spoke behind her.

  “You’d be able to buy cloth even grander than that if you came with me.”

  Nim turned to see a pale girl standing behind her. The girl looked about the same age as her and was dressed in tatty clothes. Nim didn’t recognize her, but when she saw the girl’s hands were stained black, she immediately knew where she was from.

  “You’re not going to fool me,” Nim said. She put Nibbles in her pocket and stepped away. “I know who you are. There’s no way I’m going with you.”

  The girl scowled and tried to grab Nim. But Nim was too quick. She darted free of the girl’s grip and raced off down the lane. The black-handed girl gave chase for a few minutes. But when she saw how fast Nim could run, she stopped.

  The girl slumped against a streetlamp and looked mournfully around the empty street. Even if it had been full of children she doubted any would have followed her. One glimpse at her hands and they ran away. But she couldn’t give up. Everyone at the factory was relying on her. So, she pulled herself off the streetlamp and went in search of another.

  After her encounter with the black-handed girl, Nim decided it was time to go home. It was getting dark, and she never stayed out longer than the sun. In Hodeldorf there were thieves who thieved during the day and thieves who thieved during the night, and even a skilled daytime thief like Nim didn’t want to bump into a night-time one.

  Nim turned on to Wintertide Lane. The streetlamps had been lit for the night. She darted around the pools of light and came to a stop outside a spindly brick house that was attached to two more.

  Nim peered through the front window of house number twenty-seven. A warm fire crackled inside. Helene and Minna Vidler played a board game beside the flames. Their parents, Hans and Hilda, kept watch from their armchairs.

  “I think it’s time for bed,” Hans said to his two daughters. His voice trickled through the glass so Nim could hear.

  “Can’t we play one more game?” Helene asked.

  “Please, Papa?” Minna begged. “It’s not fair. You always make us go to bed so early.”

  “It’s true,” Helene whined. She scrunched up her face and pretended to cry.

  Nim rolled her eyes. Helene and Minna spent most of their time whining: whining that they didn’t like their vegetables, whining that they had to go to bed, and whining when their mother combed their hair. Nim couldn’t understand. If she had her own room with a fireplace and books and a snuggly bed and not just one parent but two, she’d never whine again.

  When Minna pretended to cry as well, their father gave in.

  “All right,” he said. “You can play another game.”

  Hans rose from his chair and turned towards the window. Nim ducked and pressed herself against the brick wall. The light from the window faded as Hans closed the curtains.

  Nim breathed a sigh of relief. Despite living above the family for four years, they had never seen her. Nim wanted to keep it that way. If they knew a tattercoat slept on their roof they would take steps to get her off. They might throw rocks at her until she left. They might spray water on to the roof at night so she would slip off in the morning. Or they might hammer metal spikes between the tiles so she wouldn’t be able to sit without piercing her bottom. That’s what the Heiner family did to Snot. Three weeks later he was dead. But it wasn’t the spikes that killed him. It was Blink. Blink betrayed Snot in the most horrible way a tattercoat could be betrayed. And he had never been forgiven.

  Nim left the window and climbed the trellis that led up to the roof. Her toes left little marks in the snow as she tiptoed over to her chimney. She used the sleeve of her coat to wipe away a patch of snow. She sat down and pressed herself against the bricks. A faint feeling of heat trickled through her clothes and warmed her skin.

  In the dying light of day, Nim took a needle and thread from her bag. Using Nibbles’ old coat as a guide, she stitched the rat a new one.

  “My, don’t you look fine?” Nim said when she had finished and Nibbles tried on his new coat. He rose on to his back legs and raised his nose smartly in the air. “You look even finer than Otto in his green coat.”

  At the mention of Otto, Nim wondered if the boy from Dortzig was OK. Even though Otto had got most of his money back, he didn’t have a coat. Still, he had five silver coins, and once he found his mother she would make him another coat even fancier than the first.

  “Yes,” Nim whispered to Nibbles as they settled down to sleep. “We don’t need to worry about him. Anyone who can afford a coat that grand can surely afford another.”

  Nim had good reason to be worried about Otto that night. Only, not for the reason she thought. There was a far greater danger lurking in the city than the cold. A danger that was heading right for him.

  Otto couldn’t believe his bad luck. First, he’d lost his mother. Then, he’d lost his coat. And then, he’d lost all his money. True, Nim had given most of the coins back, but it still hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

  “Good evening, Mister Kruger,” Otto said when he arrived at the inn. After walking around the streets without a coat, he was desperate to get inside. A few hours sitting in front of the fire upstairs would surely warm him up. Tomorrow, he could use his coins to buy a new coat. Then he could keep searching for his mother.

  “Two weeks’ rent you owe me,” Mister Kruger said. He stood on the front step, blocking Otto’s entry.

  “I know. I’ll be able to pay it back just as soon as I find my mother.”

  Mister Kruger sighed and shook his head. “That’s not good enough, Otto. I need to
make a living. I can’t let you stay here for free.”

  “I won’t stay for free. Here.” Otto pulled out his coins. “You can have all of my money, and I can work to cover the rest. I can help in the kitchen. I can clean. I can do whatever you need me to do. Please, Mister Kruger. I don’t have anywhere else to stay.”

  Mister Kruger took the coins. They didn’t cover the full amount he owed.

  “I’m sorry, Otto. I don’t need the help, and besides, I rented out your room to another guest this morning. They’ve paid three weeks in advance. I’ll keep your belongings in a safe place. Once you find your mother, you can come and collect them.”

  “But where will I go?” Otto said.

  “Do you know anyone in the city?”

  Otto shook his head. “I only met one person today and she was a thief. Please. Can’t I stay for just a while longer? I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll sleep anywhere.”

  Mister Kruger laughed a sad laugh. “Look,” he said. “I’ve rented out all of my rooms, and I can’t have you sleeping in the common areas. It would be bad for business. But there’s an alley behind the inn. It’s quiet and dark, and some of the heat from the kitchen keeps it warm. You can stay there until you find your mother.”

  Mister Kruger stepped inside and closed the door. Otto turned away and walked over to the alley. It wasn’t the most welcoming place. It was cold, snow covered the cobbles and he no longer had a coat to keep him warm. But at least no one was there to bother him or rob him.

  Otto kicked away a section of snow and lay down. He curled up in a tight ball to protect himself against the cold. He couldn’t believe this was how things had ended up. His father was dead, his mother was missing, he was homeless in a strange city and his coat had been stolen. He couldn’t think of a single positive thought. Eventually, exhaustion lulled his eyes closed. Only moments later, a voice woke him up.

  “Are you OK?” someone said.

  Otto jumped with fright. A girl stood over him, holding a lantern that lit the alley. Her hair was plaited and tied together with black ribbon.

  “You don’t look OK,” the girl continued. “You look cold and sore and tired.”