Game On.

Excuses and phone calls

Cat lent on the kitchen counter with an ice pack clasped to her face, breathing hard. Finally, after a lot of asking, telling, shouting, coercion and two threats to call the cops, they had finally managed to empty their house of guests. Lindsay had left with fanfare, being ushered out the door in the midst of a gaggle of high-heeled, heavily make-uped, Barbie clones, all clucking around her like hens.
Cat smirked at this. The only regret she had was not breaking Lindsay's nose.
Harry had left too, promising to come back tomorrow.
Now Cat and Luke were resting in the Kitchen, devising ways to keep the parents out of the basement, at least until they could clear up. Moira had disappeared off to who knows where.
Luke took a spoonful of leftover ice cream, eating it as they talked. "We could always tell Dad that Susanne is restoring some antique furniture down there and says not to go near it, and then tell Susanne that Dads set up a new art project down there."
Cat snorted. "Yeah, that'll work. Until they ask each other how their projects going. I say we blame Moira. After all, its the truth."
"Yeah, but she is my sister, and you know her, she'll find a way to take us all down." Mused Luke.
Cat stole a spoonful of his ice cream, a calculating look on her face. Luke saw her eyes catch a wicked glint as she placed down the spoon. "Well, we could always tell them..." she started, and then cracked into a large grin "That Moira was illegally experimenting with a new make-up formula, but it exploded and now the basement is radioactive!"
Luke laughed. "What the hecks gone into that make up?"

RING, RING! RING, RING!

The phone rang. Luke picked it up. "Hello? No, we weren't... oh, okay. Yeah, fine. Ahh, really? But... What about Petey? Oh, okay, bye Suze"
He hung up. Cat looked at him, smiling over a slice of cake. "So... What did mum want?"
Luke looked grave. "A friend of Dads has had an accident. Tom Locke, I think it was. He's okay, meaning he's alive, but they're driving up tonight."
Cat looked concerned. "What does this mean for us?"
"Well, we will have to take care of Pete tomorrow, since they don't think they'll be back till evening. But on the bright side, we get a day to hide the evidence."
The house resounded with snickering as the duo cleared up the kitchen and went to bed.

Sorry, bit of a boring chapter. I felt it necessary, but it wasn't meant to be so long.
Did I mention how much I HATE Tom Locke? Was that a bit obvious?
Also, I'm now in several minds over the identity of Cat's step-dad. Your thoughts?