[A/N] Very important author's note at the end.
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Goldilocks🚺
"You know her?" The girl whispers to Theodore.
The question brings a sudden discomfort to my stomach along with an intense feeling of deja vu.
He nods, the smirk growing into a full grin. "It's Skittle girl."
The girl whispers again, "Who's Skittle girl?"
"Funny story, she's—"
"Tori! There you are." The dark haired woman interrupts as she stands, shooting glares at her children before turning to us. "I've been waiting for you. It's been a while, hasn't it? You look stunning as usual. Where did you get the fabulous trousers?"
"Haha, Leigh," mom chuckles as the two women exchange hugs and kisses. "You're always so funny. It's a skirt, don't you see?"
"Oh, I see...it's quite lovely," Leigh comments, although the bewildered expression on her face says otherwise.
"Sophia, Celestine," she begins in a successful attempt to change the subject. "Last time I saw you darlings, you had such little round babyish faces. Now you're all tall and grown up, although you haven't quite lost the glasses yet, Sophie dear."
"I think I'll be changing them soon," I say sheepishly, pushing up the glasses. "Nice to see you again too Mrs Miller."
"Come on people, this is a party. Save the talk for later. Come take your seats," Mr Miller says as he pulls out a chair for his wife and occupies the one right next to it.
Mom takes the seat beside the little girl leaving me the last available seat between Theodore and Celestine.
I sigh in disappointment and trudge slowly to the woe betided seat – not that this surprises me.
Fate has a funny way of doing things. After all, this is only just rotten luck.
A waiter in a blue shirt and a white waistcoat approaches our table, armed with a small notepad and a pencil. "Good evening. Would you like to order?"
"Well, I would," mom chuckles and motions with her hands on the table. "But no one offered me a menu."
"We're sorry ma'am, you weren't given a menu because you actually don't need one. You can order anything you like. We have absolutely anything and everything here," the waiter clarifies.
"Ok, then. In that case, I'd like a roasted peacock head, some snake beans and a few boiled octopus eggs," mom says, obviously testing the credibility of the waiter.
"Is that all?" The waiter questions cooly.
Mom stares at the waiter disbelievingly before glancing at Mr Miller. "Is this a joke?"
Mr Miller smiles softly. It is a proud smile nonetheless. "What can I say? I am a Miller after all. We only do the best."
"Is that all?" The waiter repeats.
"Actually, never mind all those things I said, I'll just have some plain red wine," mom says finally.
The waiter jots on the notepad and continues round the table, scribbling furiously as he collects their orders.
"And what would you like to order, Miss?" The waiter asks when he reaches my chair.
"I'll just have some Dairy Milk chocolate and jelly tots. And some salty fries, if you have any."
YOU ARE READING
Goldilocks and the British Accent
HumorNOTE : Read in a British accent. "And then I see her, bustling through the crowd in a flurry of gold hair and yellow glasses. She seems to be looking for something, or someone rather as she darts her fiery blue eyes. The whole sight is mesmerizing...
