A girl, A boy, and a graveyard

The football

Lockwood POV
1642 Words

🎵You're holding me and holding back
I don't really care for that
Just you🎵

🎵There's a pause between every minute
Feelin' like I need something
It's just you🎵
-I Know You by Faye Webster

Mary. Well she was certainly Lucy's sister, but that didn't mean I liked her. Holly's mother and father had rung a few minutes prior, telling us that Holly was awake, well rested and ready to get back to work, that she'll be over soon. Once Holly arrived and introduced herself to Mary, we all moved to the lounge to talk. Mary was doing the whole 'remember when?' speech with Lucy. They were laughing about memories of another life. A life that Lucy left long ago.

"Oh my god I remember that!" Lucy laughed, clutching her heart through the wooly jumper.

"And remember that time we lost our football-"

"Your football. I hated that dumb thing." Lucy crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.

"Only cause you sucked at it." Mary laughed, her thick northern accent ascending at the end.

"Wait, Lucy, you played football?" George asked, shocked.

"No! Well I tried but-"

"She fell over, every time." Mary laughed again. What was so damn funny? I watched her, she had few freckles unlike Lucy, that sprinkled around her button nose. She had darker brown eyes, with more of a wondrous look to them. Lucy's had a sparkle but they were more tired. When I looked at Mary, I could tell she had never worked a day in her life.

"Well, would anyone like some tea?" Holly asked.

"Oh yes please. I can help if you like?" Mary moved to stand up.

"Oh no, you stay right there." Holly smiled, George was staring at one of his gadgets, I was sat there with folded arms. Lucy smiled and stood up.

"It's alright Holly, I'll help." They both walked out the room and into kitchen, where the cluttering sound of mugs being taken out from cabinets, and of water being poured into the kettle, floated down the hall. Usually the sound would bring comfort to me, knowing Portland Row was being put to work, but instead it just darkened my mood. I crossed a leg over my knee and clasped my hands over a knee. "So Mary?"

"Mh?" She tilted her head at me, for a moment I was startled, the striking resemblance hadn't caught me off-guard till she looked at me with all her attention. Like Lucy used to do. Memories flashed through my mind, explaining plans on the kitchen table, gesturing to the crude drawings of a map, looking up to see George staring down at his notes, and Lucy staring at me.. all ears.

I shook my head and gave a sweet smile. "The football?"

"Ah yes, well, it was me and Lucy out in the water meadows. I think she was about six or seven. We lost my football, and ran around looking for it. When we finally got it, the curfew bells were ringing and we knew we would be late home."

"Oh!" I laughed, thinking that would be the end of the story, however she continued.

"Yes, and that meant a good smacking from mam." George glanced up, confused. "Oh, sorry I meant, uh, mum. Is that how you say it? Mum." I watched this with horror as Mary's face contorted in confusion. It wasn't even the bad london accent she was attempting to do. It was the fact she was nothing like Lucy. Anger bubbled in me, this was Lucy's sister? I laughed politely.

"It's alright, close enough. Continue, please." What I meant was, get out of my house, please.

"Yes, yes, well, Lucy tried to tell me it didn't matter. But she didn't know how hard mam- mum's beatings would be if we missed curfew, or came home a minute later than planned."