The Brightlings

2. Box frenzy

At first, the scratching sound is startling.

Only after the image of playful squirrels has entered Felix's mind can he relax again. He pulls the pillow over his head to drown out their scampering, but the madcap chase on the roof tiles above him continues. He keeps his eyes closed in the hope that he might be able to sleep for a little longer, but on remembering his dreams he decides that it is probably better to be awake.

The clinking of cutlery and dishes being placed on the breakfast table diverts his thoughts to his rumbling stomach. He can also hear Cookie delivering a barely intelligible song about a blood-thirsty pirate. His brother has a surprisingly loud voice for such a small boy, and he loves to sing.

"Ohhhhh.... He has an eyepatches and a hook for a hand... and a big green parrot that talks rude. Hide your silver, hide your gold.... from Big Beard."

He squints at the digital display on his watch. It reads 7.52am. The rain has stopped and the sun is already making up for lost time, gleaming through the gaps where the ivy doesn't cover the window, creating a delicate pattern on the wooden floor. 

There is no time for a shower. He forces himself upright and out of bed, steps into the middle of the pile of clothes on the rug, pulls up his jeans, throws on a t-shirt, scruffs up his already messy hair in the mirror, and ambles down the stairs barefoot, remembering to duck in all the right places.

"Morning lazy bones."

Lucy is sitting with her back to him, and she balances a magazine and her mobile phone on her lap as she butters a slice of toast and reaches for a jar of lemon curd. The old radio on the worktop is drifting in and out of tune.

"Yes, indeed it is" Felix replies, as he rummages in a box.

"Instant coffee's in the cupboard above the kettle."

"Yep..."

He makes himself a mug and sits down at the table, making sure that his brother is a safe distance away. The steam gently rises from the surface of the hot liquid, and he sips at it, breathing in cool air so as not to burn his tongue.

"Your hair looks funny! Where did you sleep? In a hedge?"

Oh, ha-ha. Good one Mum.

He doesn't say anything, but he can tell that she is enjoying ribbing him, so he smiles his smarmiest smile at her, and in return she sticks out her tongue like a kid in a playground.

"Any sign of Dad yet?"

"He's already out." She gestures through into the lounge at a blanket on the ancient couch. "I guess he got in late and slept on the sofa so he wouldn't wake us."

Cookie is struggling to eat with his right arm in plaster, so he has swapped the spoon over into his left hand, and is tentatively raising it towards his face. He has just taken a large mouthful of Rice Crispies when the removals van pulls up at the front gate and beeps its horn. 

"They're here!" he yells blowing the semi-dry cereal grains over the tablecloth and dribbling milk down his chin. 

Eww, gross. 

Felix instinctively puts his hand over his mug, but Cookie is already down from the table and racing across the room to look out of the window.

"Calm down will you... It's only a lorry." 

The words are lost on him as he bounces to the front door for a better look. Felix rubs his eyes, yawns, takes another slurp of his coffee and joins Cookie at the door.

"Go and get dressed then..." 

Cookie scarpers back into the cottage, while Felix attempts to put his trainers onto his bare feet without using his hands. It is an interesting manoeuvre that involves standing on the trodden down back of the shoe with one foot, then stepping into it with the other, and inching his toes forward until they are as far inside as he can get them. When the trainer is in position, he transfers all of his weight onto that foot and quickly pulls back the other causing the back of the shoe to flip up into place. Hey presto! The 'Toe Shuffle Technique' is complete.