Follower of my footsteps

Prologue

“Ingrid! Lunch is ready!” Hannah called, drying her hands with a tea towel. The table was set for two, plates of Bolognese steaming, the air permeated with garlic. She smiled when she heard the tell-tale thump of little feet on the floor, following the noise with her eyes across the ceiling as her daughter raced from playtime. At the sound of feet running down the stairs, she turned her attention to preparing drinks, fishing for the glasses on the top shelf.

“Mooooom! That’s rude!”

“Huh?” Blinking, Hannah paused, lowering herself from tip toe to turn around. Ingrid was stood in the doorway, pouting. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“You didn’t set a place for Jesse!”

“…Jessie?” She blinked, glancing around the kitchen. Unless Ingrid had invited someone inside without her permission, Hannah couldn’t think of who it could be. Ingrid tilted her head and glanced back over her shoulder.

“What? She can’t see you? Why not? Well… okay…” Ingrid brushed back a lock of hair and turned back thoughtfully. “Jesse says that’s okay, you can’t see him, but you know he’s here now and he would like a place at the table, please.” Hannah frowned, slowly rubbing her arms. She looked over Ingrid’s small frame, but the hallway behind her was empty.

“Maybe it’s an imaginary friend… You do hear about those…” She murmured to herself, before clapping her hands and smiling. It made sense. They had just moved away, after all. Ingrid needed friends, even if she had to invent them. Her daughter had always had a healthy imagination after all. “Okay then Inga. Let’s set a place for Jessie! Where is she from?”

“MOOOOOOOM. Jesse’s a MAN.” Ingrid complained, wringing her dress in her hands, cheeks flushing indignantly.

“Oh- okay. Jesse, I’m very sorry that I thought you were a girl!” Hannah winked, walking over to the plate cupboard. Ingrid sighed loudly somewhere behind her, and when she returned to the table with the extra plate and cutlery, her daughter was sitting in her chair, legs swinging to and fro. “Where would Jesse like to sit, Inga?”

Ingrid glanced across the room, nodded, then pointed to the empty seat next to her. Hannah smiled as she placed them down. “Would Jesse like a glass, too?”

“I guess so,” Ingrid shrugged, her attention now focused upon the garlic bread. “He’s already got three glasses down.”

No sooner had she said that, there came a gentle thump from somewhere behind her. Hannah turned and gasped. The cupboard that housed all of the glasses and mugs was now closed, and there, on the counter, were three glasses. Hannah blinked, then blinked again before shaking her head and marching over. “I must have put them out before I got the plates…” She muttered, fetching the three glasses. She ignored the whispers in her mind that wondered why there were three.

As she placed them down, a small smile crept over her face. “Inga, what are you doing?”

“Putting food on Jesse’s plate! But only a little!” The girl replied, tangling spaghetti on her fork and shaking it onto the empty plate. Hannah watched as sauce dribbled onto the table cloth between the place mats.

“Oh well, I knew spaghetti was messy in the first place…” She sighed, lowering herself into her seat.

“It is messy, isn’t it?” Ingrid smiled, glancing up from her task.

“Why don’t you give Jesse some garlic bread instead, hmm?” Hannah pressed gently, holding the plate out to her. Ingrid glanced at the empty space beside her before picking up three pieces and placing them around the plate.