Breaking Enigma || The Imitation Game

◈ FOUR- Breakfast ◈

This chapter is dedicated to my amazing buddy eleven-ninetyseven who I owe a lot to. Thank you for being so amazing! x

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I woke the next morning at the rather early time of half past six. I wanted to sleep for longer, but couldn't; an odd feeling of energy appeared and my eyes were suddenly wide awake and not drooping shut.

The clouds in the morning sky covered the sun, sending a cold shadow over the village. I very much loved to be outside, but when it was cloudy and cool in temperature, I disliked it a lot.

At this point, I realised that I moaned too much instead of going with the flow, as it were. Yes, life isn't perfect and the world should accept that. You cannot change what's meant to be or what has happened.

If only I could take my own advice.

Seeing as though I was awake and couldn't fall back to sleep, I decided to go downstairs and have breakfast. Hoping my parents were still asleep, so I could eat in peace, I got out of bed and took my dressing gown off the back of my bedroom door before almost tip-toeing down the stairs.

I'd figured out that the third, fourth and eighth floorboards down creaked quite loudly, so did my best to avoid those. I didn't try to be sneaky, just concerned that I would wake my parents up with my, what can be described as, clumsiness. And I didn't want to wake Father (if wasn't already) as he can get a bit grumpy if he's intentionally woken up.

As I reached the kitchen, the sun had appeared from its cloudy hiding place and was still quite low in the sky, yet it would rise higher as the day progressed-

"Good morning, Kester."

Those words almost gave me a heart attack because they were so sudden and they shattered the silence.

I turned around to see my Father clutching a newspaper under his arm and fiddling with coins in the palm of one hand. He seemed to have just come back from the shops. He sometimes goes out early before work.

"Morning," I reply flatly, grabbing a small plate, an egg cup and a pan from the cupboard and then an egg from the fridge. Then, laying them on the worktop before turning my attention back to Father.

"Have you thought about that letter then?" He asked, setting the newspaper on the kitchen table and slipping the coins into his pocket.

"Yes," I answer, filling the pan with water. "I thought about it yesterday. I thought we talked about it."

"That wasn't talking," Father stated. "That was arguing."

"Still," I shrugged, setting the pan, with the egg dipped in the water, on the stove and while talking to Father, I would patiently wait for it to boil.

"Look, son. If I'm being perfectly honest, I think you should accept this... interesting job offer. Like you say, it's about joining in with the war efforts. And I think you have a good career and this could be the start of something. Something worthwhile."

I nodded in agreement. "Has Mum said the same or does she despise it all?"

"Your Mother hasn't said anything since last night."

"Really?" I questioned sceptically. Mothers always talk behind their children's backs. One minute they love you beyond words and the next they don't want anything to do with their children. We've all been there.

"Really," Father echoed. He pointed to the stove where the boiling water was bubbling and hissing. "I think that's egg-cellent timing, Kester."

"Stop," I demand playfully, trying to hide a smile. "Dad, just stop. Your jokes are terrible!"

"I'll stop yolk-ing, then."

I rolled my eyes and my smile broadened. Father laughed, leaving the kitchen and presumably making his way to the living room. I was glad to have got rid of him for a while- I love to hate his jokes.

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Just as I was finishing my breakfast, Mother came down dressed in her day clothes. I was expecting her to still be in her nightwear. She was followed by Jack and Louisa who were getting ready for school.

"Good morning," I greet them.

"Good morning, dear," Mother answered. She seemed happy and well-rested, as if our late night quarrel had never happened. "Sleep well?"

Despite my morning energy, I didn't really have a goodnight's rest. My mind was whizzing with too many thoughts and my heart was pained by too many feelings.

"Yes, thank you," I half-lied. I paused for a moment before speaking again. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

"I told you, it's fine. It's behind us now. We can forget about it and move on," she sat down on the other side of the table and at opposite sides of my siblings.

I nod in agreement and watched as Jack and Louisa scramble to get the jug of of orange juice that Mother had set on the table for them. They were like a pair of wild animals fighting for the best bite of prey.

"Would you do me a favour, Kester?" Mother asked.

"Sure. What is it?"

"I have to do some washing this morning and then I'm meeting Mary Anderson in the village at ten o'clock. Would you mind just taking Jack and Louisa to school?"

"Why can't we go by ourselves?" Jack complained. "We're old enough now and-"

"No questions," Mother said, shooting him a stern glance, before turning back to me. "Please?"

"Of course," I reply, nodding.

"Thank you, dear," she reached over and grasped my hand. I held her in return and it was icy to the touch. Irregularly icy.

"It's a pleasure," I answer politely. Finishing the last scraps of egg, I exited the kitchen and retreated upstairs to my bedroom, where I picked out my attire for the day. A jumper. Typical.

I've always like wearing jumpers ever since I was a baby. Maybe because Mother used to force them on me as I screamed and since then, I've gotten used to the wide array of varying coloured jumpers and knitwear that has been bought for me over the years.

I also like shirts. They're comfortable and they make me look tidier, but I guess that's an opinion.

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As soon as Jack and Louisa had changed into their uniforms (at around quarter past eight), I led them out of the front door, saying goodbye to my Father first as he would have left for work by the time I returned home.

"Why does Mum treat us as though we are four years old?" Jack groaned, swinging his school satchel in his hand. "She's so embarrassing."

"Exactly," Louisa agreed.

"That's what parents do," I try to convince them. "It their job, besides taking care of you. Which is what I'm doing now in Mother's place. You never know what kinds of sick, evil are out there and that's why she wanted me to take you."

The both sighed, yet didn't utter another word.

"Maybe when you're both fifteen, Mother and Father will change their minds."

"I hope so, because our birthday isn't that far away from now!" Jack exclaimed, his stone-grey-coloured eyes brimming with hope.

"Yeah, well, you're not quite there yet," I interrupt. "So you listen to Mum."

"Fine," they said in sync.

"But we'll get our revenge on you, Kessie," Louisa laughed, winking cheekily.

I smiled. "In your dreams, Lulu..."