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Authors: Rowan Coleman
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sitting, her hands primly on her knees. “Tess said to give you tea. How do you like it? Milk, sugar? Earl Grey? I think I’ve got Darjeeling somewhere…” Bella blinked her brown eyes at her from under her thick black and slightly too long bangs.
“I think she meant food tea, Aunty Sophie,” she said slowly, as if English wasn’t Sophie’s first language. “Like dinner ?”
Sophie sat down on the sofa next to her. “Obviously I knew that!” she lied. “I was joking! Ha-ha. Get it?”
Bella shook her head. “No,” she said deadpan. “It wasn’t funny.”
For a moment Sophie was reminded of a film she’d once seen where the world was taken over by evil aliens disguised at kids. She forced the thought to the back of her mind. She was the adult, they were the children. She was in charge. It wasn’t like, for example, The Omen, at all, nope, not in any way. These were Carrie’s children. Not the Antichrist’s—although Sophie really hardly knew Louis, so she couldn’t rule that out entirely.
“So tea!” She said with renewed vigor. “Let’s go and see what’s in the fridge, shall we, Bella?”
There was nothing in the fridge except for half a pint of skim milk, three shriveled spring onions, low-fat margarine, and two Marks & Spencer low-fat ready meals, Thai green chicken curry and seafood pasta. They would have to do.
Sophie took the two meals out of the fridge, forked their film coverings with enthusiastic aggression, and shoved them in the microwave. Bella watched Sophie display the extent of her culinary skills, her brown eyes just about reaching over the rim of the counter.
“What is that?” she asked Sophie.
“It’s seafood pasta and chicken curry,” Sophie said. “Yum yum.”
Bella said nothing but eyed the microwave warily for a moment. She looked around the narrow galley kitchen. “Your kitchen is very small,” she said. “Where do you eat?” It was a valid question.
“On the sofa usually,” Sophie said. “Is that okay?”
Bella looked skeptical. “Well, it’s okay for me, but…”
“Excellent, that’s settled then,” Sophie said. Just at the moment that the microwave beeped there was a crash from the bedroom and the screech of a furious cat, followed closely by the cries of a distraught child.
Sophie and Bella ran into the bedroom. Izzy was lying sprawled on Sophie’s bed, with Sophie’s old-style umbrella in one hand and half of one leg trapped underneath Sophie’s empty and fortunately lightweight suitcase.
“Catty!” Izzy sobbed, waving the umbrella wildly at the open window. “Catty, come back!”
Sophie looked out the small window that she always left open for Artemis to come and go as she pleased. She was sure that leaving the window open pretty much negated her insurance policy, but she couldn’t bear the thought of cooping Artemis up in the flat when she’d been imprisoned in the shelter for so long. Artemis had certainly been glad of the escape route on this occasion. She must have scooted across the little balcony onto the downstairs extension roof, and off into the evening in double-quick time. Sophie didn’t think she’d be coming back anytime soon, and she felt a pang of helpless anxiety. She didn’t know why she worried about Artemis. Artemis was a pretty tough cat.
Bella climbed onto the bed and pushed the suitcase onto the floor with a thud. She put her arm around Izzy and pulled her into a sitting position. Kissing the younger girl’s light brown hair, Bella patted her firmly on the back three times. “There. There. There,” she said with each pat. Sophie wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Perhaps she was supposed to hug Izzy and do a bit of patting too, but she didn’t quite know how to go about the whole hugging and patting thing, so she left it to Bella and sat on the edge of the bed instead.
“What happened, Izzy?” Sophie asked her.
“Catty was stuck, I was helping Catty, like when Bob the Builder helped
“I think she meant food tea, Aunty Sophie,” she said slowly, as if English wasn’t Sophie’s first language. “Like dinner ?”
Sophie sat down on the sofa next to her. “Obviously I knew that!” she lied. “I was joking! Ha-ha. Get it?”
Bella shook her head. “No,” she said deadpan. “It wasn’t funny.”
For a moment Sophie was reminded of a film she’d once seen where the world was taken over by evil aliens disguised at kids. She forced the thought to the back of her mind. She was the adult, they were the children. She was in charge. It wasn’t like, for example, The Omen, at all, nope, not in any way. These were Carrie’s children. Not the Antichrist’s—although Sophie really hardly knew Louis, so she couldn’t rule that out entirely.
“So tea!” She said with renewed vigor. “Let’s go and see what’s in the fridge, shall we, Bella?”
There was nothing in the fridge except for half a pint of skim milk, three shriveled spring onions, low-fat margarine, and two Marks & Spencer low-fat ready meals, Thai green chicken curry and seafood pasta. They would have to do.
Sophie took the two meals out of the fridge, forked their film coverings with enthusiastic aggression, and shoved them in the microwave. Bella watched Sophie display the extent of her culinary skills, her brown eyes just about reaching over the rim of the counter.
“What is that?” she asked Sophie.
“It’s seafood pasta and chicken curry,” Sophie said. “Yum yum.”
Bella said nothing but eyed the microwave warily for a moment. She looked around the narrow galley kitchen. “Your kitchen is very small,” she said. “Where do you eat?” It was a valid question.
“On the sofa usually,” Sophie said. “Is that okay?”
Bella looked skeptical. “Well, it’s okay for me, but…”
“Excellent, that’s settled then,” Sophie said. Just at the moment that the microwave beeped there was a crash from the bedroom and the screech of a furious cat, followed closely by the cries of a distraught child.
Sophie and Bella ran into the bedroom. Izzy was lying sprawled on Sophie’s bed, with Sophie’s old-style umbrella in one hand and half of one leg trapped underneath Sophie’s empty and fortunately lightweight suitcase.
“Catty!” Izzy sobbed, waving the umbrella wildly at the open window. “Catty, come back!”
Sophie looked out the small window that she always left open for Artemis to come and go as she pleased. She was sure that leaving the window open pretty much negated her insurance policy, but she couldn’t bear the thought of cooping Artemis up in the flat when she’d been imprisoned in the shelter for so long. Artemis had certainly been glad of the escape route on this occasion. She must have scooted across the little balcony onto the downstairs extension roof, and off into the evening in double-quick time. Sophie didn’t think she’d be coming back anytime soon, and she felt a pang of helpless anxiety. She didn’t know why she worried about Artemis. Artemis was a pretty tough cat.
Bella climbed onto the bed and pushed the suitcase onto the floor with a thud. She put her arm around Izzy and pulled her into a sitting position. Kissing the younger girl’s light brown hair, Bella patted her firmly on the back three times. “There. There. There,” she said with each pat. Sophie wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Perhaps she was supposed to hug Izzy and do a bit of patting too, but she didn’t quite know how to go about the whole hugging and patting thing, so she left it to Bella and sat on the edge of the bed instead.
“What happened, Izzy?” Sophie asked her.
“Catty was stuck, I was helping Catty, like when Bob the Builder helped
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