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"Thomas Howarth!"
I'd already found the laces on my new shoes cut — almost in half — and had been forced to dig through Mum's various baskets for something to use as a replacement. Which ended up being some kind of bright yellow cord. So now I looked slightly ridiculous.
My twin, Lottie, found this hilarious... until she discovered her bag had been thrown into the sink and the tap left running for almost ten minutes. Then she lost it, and went after Thomas.
"I don't want to!"
"Tommy, please," Lottie snapped, trying to grab his wrists. I stayed put, leaning against the door frame and waiting for Mum to get back with Martha and Eleanor. If they didn't turn up soon, we'd inevitably be late for school. That wasn't good, because there'd been rumours that this was a 'war thing' — going back to school before September.
I really hope it's not.
"I won't! I'll steal Mum's purse! I'll... I'll... I'll lock us in and hide the key!"
Thomas is eight. And he's not a huge fan of school, as a general rule. For the past three years, he's pulled a crazy stunt to try and get out of going to school, and this year's primary stunt was worst of all.
"Kit, help me."
"I think you know what you're doing."
She's called me Kit since the 'new boy' ('new' five years ago, when we were seven) made a joke about me looking like a fox. Which... well, when Lottie and I managed to find a picture of a fox in a library book, she agreed immediately.
I guess I did too.
"Christopher!"
"What?"
Thomas kicked her hard on the ankle and then tried to bite her fingers. Lottie screamed and let him go, not bothering to try and stop him as he tore through the living room and into the kitchen.
I groaned when the sound of glass shattering echoed through the house, followed quickly by Lottie's grimace as the front door opened.
"Goodness, what's happened to you two?" Martha asked, leaning a little too heavily on Ellie's shoulder. The girls both giggled when they caught sight of my shoes, but Mum frowned.
"What's Thomas done this time?"
"Uh... everything," Lottie says without really thinking about her words. "Mum, d'you have the bus fare? We're really going to be late if we don't get moving, and you know the rumours, right?"
Martha and Ellie both pulled ridiculous faces, though Ellie's eyes were a little duller than the expression suggested they should be. She probably thought the rumours were more fact than fiction, unlike Martha.
