Rouge At Dawn

Chapter Two

Here’s Chapter 2! Please let me know what you think so far!

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Chapter Three

“SISSY!” the little boy squealed with delight as I scooped him up off the bright yellow, plastic chair.

“Hey Liam!”

“I missed you!” he commented sadly, wrapping his little arms tightly around my neck.

My heart clenched in pain as I remembered how much I’d missed him these past four months. “I missed you too, sweetie. Have you had a good time in nursery?” I asked him, grinning as he gave me a quick light kiss on the cheek.

Liam shook his head without a moment’s hesitation. “I hate it here!” he said obstinately, frowning as he peered down around the room filled with young children his age. “Mummy said I’d love it, but it’s horrible! Please don’t make me come back!”

“What’s happened?” I asked, even though his nursery teacher had already told me as soon as I'd entered the nursery a few minutes ago.

“The old woman keeps sending me to the 'naughty corner'!” he said, saying the words with disgust, pouting adorably as he held a firm grip on my necklace with one tiny hand whilst still keeping an arm around my neck.

“Sweetie, don’t call her that, he’s not that o-”

“But she is old!” he interrupted me stubbornly, trying to defend himself as he looked at me with wide eyes. “Very, very old! With nasty wrinkles!” he paused, probably in search of his teacher. Once he found her and had pointed her out with a sour face, he looked back to face me. “See! A-nd she wears too much lipstick! It’s all smudged on her teeth!” He gasped, his eyes widening even further, “Sissy! Maybe she doesn’t brush her teeth!”

“Maybe...” I replied doubtfully, but playing along.

“Does that mean I don’t have to brush my teeth anymore?” he asked cheekily, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“What do you think my answer’s going to be, cheeky?”

He giggled a little. “Yes?” he guessed, trying to outwit me.

“Not a chance in hell, Liam Moore,” I said sternly, raising an eyebrow at his. He gasped, his mouth forming an ample ‘o’ as he gawked at me. “What?” I asked, frowning.

“You swooore!” he sang, looking at me with an unimpressed expression.

I suppressed a smile. My own five-year-old brother was telling me off. Where did he learn to do all this? I tried hard not to laugh, determined to go back to the situation at hand.

“So, Liam, why did Mrs Jefferies send you to the naughty corner?” I asked sternly, raising an eyebrow at him.

He tried to pull an innocent face, “She was reading us all a story...”

“And...?” I prompted him as he went back to fiddling with my locket, trying to distract himself as he struggled to open it.

“Uh,” he continued, looking back up at me again with big, guiltless eyes, “I told her she couldn’t read very well.”

I bit my lip, willing myself to keep a straight face. “And why did you tell her that?”

Liam gasped, as if appalled that I didn’t know. He turned his head around to point at Mrs Jefferies, who was, luckily enough, too distracted by the other children to be able to listen in on our conversation.