WUTHERING BITES

Chapter Four: The Grange

Chapter Four

The Grange

It was so cold Greta noticed Kate's breath first as she entered the kitchen and placed her school bag on the floor. Heath dawdled behind his eye-catching counterpart. Kate was meticulous about her appearance. Her perfect curls lay in bunches behind her ears, tied in royal blue ribbons, the colours of her school. Her long socks were not rippled as other children's were. In fact, the uniform she wore was in good condition, unstained and nearly uncrushed. Greta looked at Kate again. She knew that after her mother had fled, literally fled the house one night to go gallivanting around Europe with a man she'd met in rehab, Kate had become unmanageable - but bunking school? She really didn't know what to do about this.

From the moment Kate had been born her Papa had indulged her every childish whim, much to the displeasure of her mother who worried that the child would be spoiled and difficult, like Harrison. Well, he was in boarding school where Kate would surely be sent soon, just as her older brother had been.

As for the "wild child", as Greta thought of him, he looked completely unkempt – shirt hanging out, hair unbrushed, knees scratched. He ran upstairs to Kate's bedroom (a converted ballroom) or to his own, the more modestly sized room opposite, to play video games and listen to music. The children would lounge around on the floor (strewn with the striped wrappers of Kate's favourite boiled sweets) in the afternoons. They ate and listened to music, hardly bothering to even attempt their homework.

Heath had long ago discovered the path around the side of the house, through the kitchen door where the new au pair was standing and peeling potatoes for dinner. He fled past their elderly gardener and crept inside the kitchen, thinking he might sneak past, but Greta was too quick. She grabbed him by the hands.

'Wait...'

'What Greta?'

'Don't say "what", I know what you've been doing...or rather not doing.'

'You just said "what"...'

'That's not what I meant...'

'Said it again...'

'Oh, you little rascal...'

Heath sighed.

'What is it Greta?'

'You haven't been to school, have you? You and Kate have been gallivanting on the High Street. I can't believe you've not been detained by police! The meadow must be too freezing even for both of you...scamps. And look at that bruise on your leg, Kate.'

Kate moved behind the bench protectively. She didn't want Greta to have too much knowledge about the behind-the-scenes household warfare.

'If that's Harrison's doing, I told you to tell me if he ever tries to hit either of you again! He's twice your age. Honestly, I don't know what this family has come to ever since your mother left. I'll be calling social services next...or they'll be calling me...'

'Oh don't do that Greta. I just...knocked into something when I was out riding...at pony club.'

Heath looked at Kate quickly, knowing if they told on Harrison again, it would only make matters worse the next time he came home.

'I told you to tell me if that older brother of yours so much as raises his voice. He wouldn't dare do it in my presence. But that doesn't give either of you an excuse to avoid school. It's a good thing Harrison is going away to University. By then, he won't even be coming home for holidays...'

Heath and Kate were too quick. Greta talked on whilst they ate everything on the kitchen countertop behind her.

When Greta stopped talking, Kate took a bottle of fizzy drink and Heath grabbed a packet of Parma ham and they raced up the stairs, rejoicing in the time when their play room was empty of responsible adults (almost always). They had the whole ancient second floor to themselves in the afternoons. They could play their games or crawl outside, along the ledge that connected them to the ground and the road that led them to The Grange. Heath liked to go fishing in the stream and learned to make an open fire and cook the food on it. He was more and more interested in living in this natural, primal way, even at such a young age.