Rachel dropped blackcurrant juice on the rug. Aunt Celia’s smile didn’t falter, as hands smoothed down apron, became grin as stain spread. Eric stomped on a chocolate bar and crushed it into the floorboards.
“Children will be children,” Aunt Celia whistled.
In the kitchen, fingers hovered over a carving knife as something smashed. Smile twitched as she popped a valium.
copyright Catherine J Gardner 2007
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