Who Is This?

Chapter 4

"Cass, I'm heading off to work, do you need anything before I go?" Cassidy heard Daisy call from the other room.

"No, thanks, though."

"Alright. I'll see you when I get back. Don't do anything silly."

"You know me," Cassidy grinned. "I'm the most sensible person in England."

Daisy laughed loudly. "Sure, honey. I'll see you later!" She yelled. The door slammed closed, and Cassidy grinned. She loved Daisy, really she did, but sometimes she could be incredibly full on, and it was nice to be able to take a break. She snuggled deeper under the covers, happy to be able to sleep in for once. She star-fished, enjoying the luxury of a double bed, and squeezed her eyes shut tight. Ah, days off. There was nothing quite like them. It wasn't that she was particularly sleepy, it was simply the pleasure of being able to lie in bed for as long as she liked. None of this "waking up early" and "exercising" rubbish. Honestly. She had a perfectly good opportunity to do nothing, and she was damn well going to take it. Nothing could stop her.

Except, apparently, the doorbell.

"Fuuuuuck." Cassidy buried her face in her pillow and didn't breathe for a while. Maybe if she didn't move, no one would know she was there.

Unfortunately, whoever was at the door was annoyingly persistent. To the point of idiocy. Never wake a sleeping Cass. It's in the Scouts handbook. Right behind "never talk to strangers". Good thing Cassidy was never a Scout.

With a long, drawn-out groan, she rolled out of bed, misjudging the distance and landing with a thud upon the hardwood floor.

"Mother–"

She rolled herself into her duvet, and wobbled to her feet. She stumbled in the vague direction of the the front door, ricocheting off the walls, and bumping into a door handle. "Ow!" She yelped, rubbing her side as she wrapped her hand around the front door handle, pulling it open. "Hello?"

"Are you Miss Tate?" A deep voice asked.

"Regrettably so." Cassidy leant against the doorframe, trying to smooth down her curls. "Please don't hold it against me, I was dropped at birth."

"I have a delivery for you." Apparently deep-voice didn't have a sense of humour. The bastard. No offence to any illegitimate children.

Cassidy shifted her duvet around so she had an arm free, and a prickly bundle was thrust into her grasp.

"Thank you," She managed, spitting out a leaf and trying to juggle the bundle without getting spiked.

"Have a nice day, ma'am," Came the deadpan reply, and Cassidy bade an awkward retreat, closing the door carefully with her foot. As she stumbled back inside, it occurred to her that she probably should have asked who it was from. She shrugged philosophically and dumped the flowers on the kitchen bench.

"Should I get a vase? Can I be bothered getting a vase?" Cassidy murmured to herself. She was, however, saved from solving this conundrum by the faint ringing of her phone.

"No vase, then," She muttered, shuffling towards her bedroom, almost tripping over her duvet before she impatiently kicked it out from under her feet. She ran her hand over her bedside table, scowling when she found it empty. The ringing continued, though, and she frowned, before remembering that she had plugged it in to charge the night before. She knelt down beside the wall sockets, grabbing the phone and holding it up to her ear.

"Answer call," She directed, and her sister's bubbly, American accent immediately assaulted her eardrums.

"Cass, hi, did you get my flowers?" She asked cheerily.