Head Over Heels ✓

10 / hard to hear

august, age twelve

The town was long overdue a visit from the sun by the time mid-August rolled around after almost a month of dull summer weather. The sky had been littered with clouds for a few weeks, the grey hardly ever turning blue behind the rain that sprinkled the grass and dripped from the trees. The garden was looking amazing after such a good drenching as the flowers soaked up the rain and blossomed but Lucas had hated it. He hated leaving the house when it was so miserable outside, his glasses always getting smudged by the droplets no matter how careful he was, and he hated his feet getting wet.

July had been a bit of a misery, all four of Lucas's younger sisters' birthdays spent indoors the rain had poured, and it was hard to enjoy the summer holidays when it was so disgusting outside. But at last the weather was improving, halfway through the holidays and just two weeks away from Lucas's birthday: the sun peeped its head out from behind the clouds that parted to let it through, the light shining down over last night's rain. There was warmth in the air, the bitter breeze gone as yellow rays illuminated the sky.

For the first time all month, Lucas felt at ease. His brain wasn't so crowded, as though the sun had melted his worries. He had even slept in late, not making it downstairs until almost eleven o'clock in the morning with a peaceful smile on his lips, even though Charlotte had been crying until almost midnight. Although she was now seven months old, she struggled to settle at night and she hated to be separated from her mother: she wailed whenever she was laid down in her own cot and Sarah and Truman had taken to letting her sleep with them just to calm her down.

The house was eerily quiet. When Lucas got downstairs he peered around to check for signs of life other than the soft pad of his own feet on the carpet, but there were none. There wasn't a single noise in the house. A frown replaced his smile.

"Mum?" he called out. He knew Truman was at work but that didn't explain the sudden disappearance of his mother and his four sisters. "Hello?"

There was a note on the kitchen table. He sat down to read it, comforted by his mother's neat cursive.

Lucas -

Didn't want to wake you baby! Dad's at work; Audrie's gone with Dylan to get A-level results; Liliana and Felicity are with hammy and hara and I'm at the doctor with Charlotte. I should be back by 10:30. Hope you slept well. I think you really needed it.

Mum xx

Lucas read the note three times before he folded it in half and dropped it into the kitchen bin. Lifting his eyes to the clock, it took a moment for him to focus on the hands. It was five past eleven. His frown returned: his mother was more than half an hour late after leaving him home alone for the first time ever. A flicker of panic curled itself into a tight, heavy ball in his stomach, replacing the happy mood he had woken up in. His mother always gave herself leeway to be late: if she had said she would be back by ten thirty then she most likely would have returned ten minutes earlier than that so really, she was even later than the note suggested.

Before he could allow the fear to grow, Lucas reached for his mobile phone. He left it charging in the kitchen every night, the rule enforced by himself rather than something his parents had requested, and the screen lit up when he unplugged it but there were no messages, no missed calls. She hadn't tried to reach him to say she would be late. That realisation only added weight to the dread in the pit of his stomach that he tried to hold at bay as he scrolled to his mother's number. Hers and Asher's were in constant competition for the top spot in his list of most contacted.

Holding the mobile to his ear, he stood straight against the wall and started to count to ten. He had to start over before the dial tone cut out and he heard his mother's answering machine message. Before the beep sounded, he ended the call and tried again. He knew she rarely listened to her voicemails and she often missed a call within seconds of it ending. In his mind's eye, he pictured her lunging for the phone and muttering under her breath when she missed the call.