Growing Up Beside You [John Lennon/Beatles Fanfiction]

24. Careless and Inconsiderate

Celia had been inside her house for no more than ten seconds, and she had already managed to trip over the cat.

The lump of a creature had been sitting directly outside the entrance of the pitch-black hallway as if to purposely meddle with Celia's plans of sneaking up to her bedroom unnoticed.  The white Persian screeched a meow as Celia's knee clipped its tail when she fell to the rug with a thud.

"Damn you, Lily!" Celia hissed.

In response, the blue-eyed fluffball meowed at Celia as if it were laughing at her inability to master the graceful act of landing on all fours as gracefully as she could.

Lily was her elder sister's cat, a twelfth birthday gift from their parents, and she had a face like a squashed pumpkin. The name 'Smushy' suited her more, but she'd never respond to it whenever Celia called for her.

"Go on, Smush—shoo!" Celia waved the cat away with a flap of her hand. She could just about see the swish of its bushy tail as it slinked off down the hallway.

Through the darkness came her mother's voice; light and curious as she called Celia's name from above. Celia froze, palms and knees glued to the floor. Curse that stupid cat.

For a second, Celia thought about keeping quiet. Perhaps her mother would go back to bed and dismiss the noises, but knowing her; she wouldn't. Not when her daughter was missing. Besides, avoiding the situation was inevitable. Be it now or tomorrow morning over breakfast, Celia would have some explaining to do, and she'd rather get it over and done with.

Celia sighed in defeat and quickly stood up. She brushed off the cat-fur clinging to her dress.

"Yes, Mum. It's me." 

The landing light switched on immediately. Celia gulped, hesitantly walking over to the stairs in the corner of the spacious hallway. A tip-tapping of rapid footsteps made their way towards the staircase and dread seemed to work its way up Celia's spine like a spider living a careful trail of silk.

Elenora Pooley emerged at the top of the staircase. She stared down at her youngest daughter, who was wearing the same look of trepidation that she had worn not too long ago. Astounded, Nora blinked as if she were seeing an optical illusion and not her sixteen-year-old daughter standing before her.

"Hi, Mum," Celia mumbled. She cast her eyes downwards while fiddling with her clammy hands.

Nora sighed in relief, placing one hand on her chest, the other clutching the bannister head. Her daughter was alive. She was stable, home safe-and-sound. The ease and gratitude on her face quickly vanished and was replaced with a hardened look of outrage. With a tight scowl on her lips, the petite woman marched down the stairs, not once taking her narrowed eyes away from Celia.

"Don't you dare, 'Hi Mum' me, young lady!"

Before Celia could utter a word, Elenora gripped Celia's hand and pulled her towards the front room. Celia grimaced as she felt her mother's sharp nails dig into her wrist. She meant no harm by it; Celia knew it was more of an affirmation that she was home and not a figment of her mother's imagination.

Nora dragged Celia through the front room and then pushed her into the dining room.  With her back to Celia, Elenora closed the double doors to make Celia's forthcoming bollocking inaudible to her brother and father.

Celia stood in the darkness rubbing away the soreness of her mother's grip.

"Are you aware of the time, Celia?" Nora calmly asked her daughter.

"Yes, Mother."

"And have you had any bother tonight?"

"Bother?"