lap and wound her arms around Sophie’s neck until her runny nose teeming with a billion odd germs was only millimeters from Sophie’s wrinkled one. That was Sophie’s main objection to the whole physical-displays-of-affection thing—it was just so unhygienic.
“I’ll be a good girl for you, Aunty Sophie,” Izzy said, picking up a thick strand of Sophie’s hair and winding it around her fist. “I’ll be your friend and we will all be happy and you don’t be cross, okay?”
Sophie nodded. She knew that any normal woman would be charmed and delighted by the comment—so why did she feel like it was a Mafioso-style threat?
“It’s a deal,” she said uncertainly.
“I’ll kiss you now, okay?” Izzy said, and without waiting for consent, she pressed her slimy face against Sophie’s tensed cheek, leaving her damp noseprint just under one of Sophie’s twitching eyes. “Breakfast now. I want Cheerios and…”
Sophie wiped the sleeve of her pajama top across her cheek and was contemplating how to break the no breakfast news to Izzy when she saw the walking pile of laundry that was approaching though the living room door. Bella dropped the sheets onto the rug.
“Izzy wet the bed,” she said a little anxiously. “It wasn’t me.”
Sophie felt the damp of the fairy dress skirt begin to seep through her pajama bottoms. She didn’t doubt Bella, all the evidence supported her case. Sophie took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to get stressed about it. It was just wee on her leg. It wouldn’t kill her. It probably wouldn’t kill her, although she might have to look that up on the Internet just to make sure. She’d just have to get changed, put these pajamas in the laundry hamper, and buy a new bed after they’d gone, that’s all. And new bedclothes and a new sofa and new cushions and new rugs. She wondered if the presence of a dead friend’s children was an acceptable risk on her homeowners insurance. If it wasn’t, it should have been.
Sophie lifted Izzy off her lap and sat her on the fragrant pile of sheets, where she could do the least damage.
“Okay,” she said to both girls. “Only thirteen days to go.” Both children stared blankly at her. “What I mean is, I have no food in the house. We’ll have to go out for breakfast. Luckily, there’s a twenty-four-hour Sainsbury’s at Manor House. We’ll get dressed. We’ll go there, okay?”
“Okay!” both girls said.
“I’m hungry,” Izzy said, glumly. “I’m starving. ”
“I know,” Sophie said. “Which is why we have to get ready extra quickly, okay? And why we have to do everything that Aunty Sophie says, okay?” Sophie stared at both the girls as if she could hypnotically implant obedience into them. They stared back at her. She formulated a plan.
Of course Sophie’s plan, which was to empty Izzy’s treacherous bladder completely and get everyone out of the flat before malnutrition set in, did not work.
This is what happened instead.
Sophie sat Izzy on the toilet and told her not to move until she came back. She returned to her bedroom to dress and found Bella holding one of her Manolos in one hand and balancing precariously on the other with one foot. Sophie regarded the scene as if she had just come across Bella with her finger in the pin of a live grenade.
“Nooooo!” Sophie shouted commando style and, in her head at least, in slow motion.
Bella’s face fell, and she slumped on the bed facefirst, letting the shoe drop to the floor, from where Sophie scooped it up and cradled it momentarily before realizing that she had things a little out of perspective. She had been about to offer Bella a go at her low-heeled pumps when a clatter and a scream sounded from the bathroom. The Manolo was abandoned once again as Sophie realized her rookie error of leaving Izzy alone in the bathroom for longer than a nanosecond. She found Izzy jammed securely in the toilet, her calf sticking out at a right angle from the seat and
“I’ll be a good girl for you, Aunty Sophie,” Izzy said, picking up a thick strand of Sophie’s hair and winding it around her fist. “I’ll be your friend and we will all be happy and you don’t be cross, okay?”
Sophie nodded. She knew that any normal woman would be charmed and delighted by the comment—so why did she feel like it was a Mafioso-style threat?
“It’s a deal,” she said uncertainly.
“I’ll kiss you now, okay?” Izzy said, and without waiting for consent, she pressed her slimy face against Sophie’s tensed cheek, leaving her damp noseprint just under one of Sophie’s twitching eyes. “Breakfast now. I want Cheerios and…”
Sophie wiped the sleeve of her pajama top across her cheek and was contemplating how to break the no breakfast news to Izzy when she saw the walking pile of laundry that was approaching though the living room door. Bella dropped the sheets onto the rug.
“Izzy wet the bed,” she said a little anxiously. “It wasn’t me.”
Sophie felt the damp of the fairy dress skirt begin to seep through her pajama bottoms. She didn’t doubt Bella, all the evidence supported her case. Sophie took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to get stressed about it. It was just wee on her leg. It wouldn’t kill her. It probably wouldn’t kill her, although she might have to look that up on the Internet just to make sure. She’d just have to get changed, put these pajamas in the laundry hamper, and buy a new bed after they’d gone, that’s all. And new bedclothes and a new sofa and new cushions and new rugs. She wondered if the presence of a dead friend’s children was an acceptable risk on her homeowners insurance. If it wasn’t, it should have been.
Sophie lifted Izzy off her lap and sat her on the fragrant pile of sheets, where she could do the least damage.
“Okay,” she said to both girls. “Only thirteen days to go.” Both children stared blankly at her. “What I mean is, I have no food in the house. We’ll have to go out for breakfast. Luckily, there’s a twenty-four-hour Sainsbury’s at Manor House. We’ll get dressed. We’ll go there, okay?”
“Okay!” both girls said.
“I’m hungry,” Izzy said, glumly. “I’m starving. ”
“I know,” Sophie said. “Which is why we have to get ready extra quickly, okay? And why we have to do everything that Aunty Sophie says, okay?” Sophie stared at both the girls as if she could hypnotically implant obedience into them. They stared back at her. She formulated a plan.
Of course Sophie’s plan, which was to empty Izzy’s treacherous bladder completely and get everyone out of the flat before malnutrition set in, did not work.
This is what happened instead.
Sophie sat Izzy on the toilet and told her not to move until she came back. She returned to her bedroom to dress and found Bella holding one of her Manolos in one hand and balancing precariously on the other with one foot. Sophie regarded the scene as if she had just come across Bella with her finger in the pin of a live grenade.
“Nooooo!” Sophie shouted commando style and, in her head at least, in slow motion.
Bella’s face fell, and she slumped on the bed facefirst, letting the shoe drop to the floor, from where Sophie scooped it up and cradled it momentarily before realizing that she had things a little out of perspective. She had been about to offer Bella a go at her low-heeled pumps when a clatter and a scream sounded from the bathroom. The Manolo was abandoned once again as Sophie realized her rookie error of leaving Izzy alone in the bathroom for longer than a nanosecond. She found Izzy jammed securely in the toilet, her calf sticking out at a right angle from the seat and
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