After Dunkirk [Discontinued]

Four ~ Feast

It's after Tommy and I help clean up from supper that we're relaxing in the living room with some tea. I'm sitting in the chair across the sofa where Tommy and his mum are sitting and I bring my cup to my lips and blow on it before taking a sip.

The ticking of the grandfather clock that's displayed in the corner is the only sound right now and I find it very soothing.

"This is the best cuppa in the world, Mum."

"I'm glad, love," Mrs. Hughes pats Tommy's knee and turns her attention to me. "How do you like yours, Alex?"

"It's very good, thank you," I nod before taking another sip and she smiles.

"Oh, that reminds me. I want to make a list for the supermarket trip tomorrow. What kinds of foods do you prefer, Alex?"

How do I answer her? I prefer not to eat out of the rubbish bin? I prefer to eat every day? I've got it!

"M'not a picky eater," I answer honestly and Tommy busts out laughing.

"He's the bottomless pit, Mum. I've seen him put away two slices of jelly bread at a time."

"Knock it off!" I snap and he stops laughing. I can tell that I've hurt his feelings and I hate myself for it. I don't know why I hurt the people closest to me and I bloody-well can't afford to ruin this friendship. "Look, m'sorry. I just don't like people making fun of me."

"I wasn't making fun of you, Alex, I was teasing, y'know like best friends do, but m'sorry if I offended you, mate. I won't do it again," Tommy apologizes and I nod in acceptance.

The living room becomes quiet once again, with the exception of the grandfather clock playing its hourly song and I take a sip of my tea.

"I have strawberry jam and bread if you fancy a snack," Mrs. Hughes says and we all start laughing, including myself and I roll my eyes because I feel a bit of tea dribble down my chin.

"No thank you, I'm still full," I say, dabbing my chin and I smirk at Tommy. "The three bowls of beef stew I had are still trying to find room in this bottomless pit."

All three of us burst into a fit of laughter and I have to admit that it feels good to laugh.

"See?" Tommy knowingly says and I furrow my eyebrows in curiosity. "See how fun it can be when you don't have a stick up your arse?"

"Thomas Ralph Hughes, watch your language," Mrs. Hughes admonishes with a finger-wagging and even I'm scared.

"Sorry, Mum."

Good grief. This nineteen-year-old has fought against the German Nazis and he just got told off by him mum. Priceless.

I breathe out a quiet laugh that turns into a yawn that I just can't control. I bring my hand up to politely cover my mouth and I sigh out a tired breath.

"You boys must be exhausted. We can make the shopping list in the morning," Mrs. Hughes suggests and Tommy and I happily agree. "Love, will you get a pair of your father's pyjamas for Alex, please?"

"Yes, ma'am. C'mon, Alex, while I do that, you can brush your teeth. You can use the toothpaste, but not my toothbrush," he jokes and I make an obvious face as I follow him upstairs. "Alright, just making sure," he chuckles. "The toothpaste is in the top drawer, if I remember correctly and I'll be right back with the clothes."

I thank him before we head down the opposite ends of the hallway and even though I don't want to wash the delicious taste of the beef stew from my mouth, I know I must.

I turn on the light in the loo and open the top drawer, smirking to myself because he was right. After squeezing an ample amount of white paste onto the tip of my index finger, I sniff it and start brushing my teeth with the peppermint paste.