Lemonade for Lindsey

Gumdrops and Aniseed Balls

I've never felt this way before. The constant pounding in my head matching the rhythm of my footsteps. My lungs feeling as though they are being flattened, and I writhe in discomfort from a growing stitch in my left rib. Something keeps me going, though.

Perhaps it's the constant flurry of adrenaline whenever it crosses my mind that we are being pursued; maybe the drive to shield Lindsey from Father is willing me to keep grinding forwards. The true answer to these questions is beyond my knowledge, but I keep on allowing it to push me forward all the same.

We're sprinting through the streets. Maybe the fact it is Sunday has proved a disadvantage, as we will be far easier to spot. If there were crowds, as there are most other weekdays, then we would be far more concealed.

Every street looks identical to the one we first met Edmund in. Tall, lean, imposing structures either side, and somewhat uneven cobbles underfoot. We do not dare to look back. That is, until Edmund sees an opportunity. When he does look back his face is animated with relief.

"They seem to be at least a little while behind." Says he, panting. "They won't have given up to capturing us though. We can't run forever, so we're going to have to hide I suppose." What does he mean? His concept makes complete sense but I don't know how we could possibly "hide".

He lets go of my sweaty palm and allows Lindsey to slide off of his back before making his way towards the opening of a small side alley, beckoning for us to follow. Lindsey and I drag ourselves after him, and we all crouch down so that we are, in theory, invisible from the main road.

That's when we hear the footsteps, and the voices. I automatically know it's them, because a shrill voice I do not recognise is calling: "Lola? Lindsey! Your Mother is here dears." All there is to do now is to hope Edmund has made the right choice by leading us into this alley. It's a risk, that's for certain, but if they miss us here we will have fooled and lost them.

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Lindsey laughs triumphantly and I know we've done it. Our pursuers have passed our hiding place, and we are now free of their grasp, at least for now. Edmund is wheezing beside me.

The alley we've found refuge in is narrow and musty, the scent of tobacco and strong liquor polluting the air around us. It's certainly no pleasant place to be, but being in the state we are in we take this as an opportunity to rest. Lindsey has slumped her body against an old bin, which I'm not entirely happy with, but each of us are as knackered as each other.

Nobody speaks, and we all sit in silence, attempting to regain our breath. Once I feel able to, I speak. "That was great!" I exclaim. "Edmund, that was very clever! We might have been forced to run forever if it weren't for your idea!" He gives me a lopsided grin, and looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding his head.

"It was pretty bloody good wasn't it?" He says this very smugly. "You're too self-absorbed!" I mutter. I hope I haven't gone on the run with a narcissist. "You brought it up." Rolling his eyes, he shifts himself so he is facing away from me. Whatever. How stupid of me to even think for a second I could compliment Edmund Pointer without him turning it into a scene.

After a short period of tense silence, Lindsey clambers to her feet, and places her hands on her hips. "We can't stay here, come on." She's right of course, and in response Edmund and I rise too and we edge our way out into the street. There is almost nobody around; it's getting to late afternoon and everyone must be home.

This is our chance. There is no longer any need for us to run, but we do all the same. Run and run, street after street, aimlessly. That's when when we come across the square.

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A sea of coloured canvas stalls, lined with more of those tall, stout buildings, cropping the faded blue sky. Cobbled pathways between the rows, where there is a considerable amount of people. Mothers and nannies with children, bands of street boys and imposing men in suits.

We stand on the edge of the square, taking it all in. "You like it?" Edmund chuckles. Of course! He lives here. He must have seen the Sunday market a thousand times before. But this is entirely new to Lindsey and I. Locking eyes with him and my jaw gaping open, I whisper "This is incredible." Softly laughing, he slips my hand into his and Lindsey's into his other before leading us into the marketplace.

It turns out what I saw before was just the start. The stalls themselves have me dumbfounded. There are food stalls; pies filled with everything you could think of, fresh fruit and vegetables, freshly baked breads and pastries that make my mouth water.

One stall in particular catches my eye, and that's the confectionary stall. Bonbons and sherbets, chocolate truffles, gumdrops and aniseed balls. And lollipops. Fine lollipops that have strips of fluorescent colour running through them. I wonder if the colours all taste different? I'm craving the bliss of sugar.

A strangely familiar voice causes me to snap out of it. "Edmund! Lilith! Small red-headed girl!" I jerk my head up and see none other than Scruffs, Al and Carson approaching us, shoving their way through the crowd. Edmund waves, and, with some hesitation, so do I.

Can I trust these people around Lindsey? I can't be sure. Lindsey lets go of Edmund's hand and trots over to hide behind me. Scruffs comes up to us and grabs Edmund's hand, causing Edmund to snatch his away. "What was that?" He yells.

"Oh sorry, I thought you liked to hold people's hands!" He nods towards my hand, which is enclosed firmly in Edmund's. But Edmund doesn't let go of it, like he did when Rose saw him holding it. Instead, he merely raises his eyes to heaven.

"Got your eye on anything nice?" Al asks. Truth is, I'd love that lollipop. "We haven't any money." I say disappointedly, daring to take another peak at the glorious confection.

"Oh, that doesn't matter!" Al grins.