An Arundel Tomb

𝙤𝙣𝙚. the cat and the fruit bowl

CHAPTER ONE
THE CAT AND THE FRUIT BOWL 

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        THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN IN JAIMIE'S LIVING ROOM. She had clocked her the second she entered the house. Danielle and Mitchell — her most recent foster parents — had agreed a few weeks ago that she was old enough to started walking home from school by herself, and she had seized that opportunity for independence with both hands and squeezed the life out of it.

    Jaimie had noticed the Old Woman the second she'd made it through the front door. Sat with her back to the entryway, the Old Woman was perched in Jaimie's usual spot on the sofa. Jaimie had only started having a spot on the sofa recently, and she didn't much appreciate it being taken from her — least of all by a complete stranger.

    Eyebrows furrowed, she wracked her brain for any loose memories of the past few that may have slipped through the cracks of her thoughts, and might explain who this strange woman might be. No clues came. She certainly didn't know her — she would remember, after all, if she knew someone who decided to attend people's houses in emerald green cloaks and pointy black hats, as though she was wearing quite an elegant Halloween costume several months too early. From the way Danielle and Mitchell were awkwardly offering her biscuits and tea, Jaimie was beginning to suspect that they hadn't a clue who this strange woman was, either.

    She knew for a fact that it wasn't one of their mothers — she'd met them, and they didn't look the slightest bit like this woman. A tiny part of her wondered whether — hoped, perhaps — she was Jaimie's own grandmother, finally here to take her home, but she knew in her heart that such a thought was fruitless. Her parents were dead, and she'd gone through so many foster placements and children's homes in the past nine years that she wasn't sure how anyone could even dream of trying to find her.

    Danielle spotted Jaimie first, face awash with relief as she saw her click the front door shut behind her.

    "Oh, good, there you are!" She exclaimed. Her face wore a smile, but it didn't stretch anywhere near her eyes. It seemed forced somehow. Fake.

    Springing from her seat opposite the Old Woman, Danielle hurried across the living room to Jaimie's side and ushered her through the door to the kitchen. "We'll be right back, Professor," she said to the Old Woman, still still shoving Jaimie — who was protesting somewhat — into the other room. "Jaimie just needs to tidy herself up slightly."

    Jaimie, feeling somewhat accosted and disgruntled by the greeting, complained the whole way through the door. Writhing away from Danielle's fussing hands, she tossed her bag upon the dining table and frowned.

    "Who's the Old Woman?" She asked.

    Danielle gave her a disapproving glare. "Jaimie, don't be rude."

    "I'm not being rude, I'm just being truthful. She's a woman, she's old, and I don't know who she is."

    Sighing, Danielle walked past her and towards the kettle. "She's here to speak with you about school." Then, with a furrowed brow, "Why are you covered in mud?"

    Jaimie glanced down at her once green school dress, now a deep shade of watery brown. She shrugged. "Hayden was pulling Emily's braids on the playground when we were leaving, so I pushed him in the pond."