“I think Cam’s mum is coming, or maybe his dad, but one of them.” Rhys scraped out the last tiny bit of porridge from his bowl and pushed it to one side.
“Ahem.” His mum coughed pointedly.
Rhys looked bemused for a moment while she looked him in the eye, flicking her glance to the bowl and back to him again. “Oh, right, sink.” He said eventually.
“And you can wash up too.” She said, handing him her own bowl and glass.
“Aw, Mum!” He wailed. “I don’t want to.”
She stared, unblinking as he fumed and glared at her and her outstretched hand with the bowl and glass in it.
“You always make me wash up, I hate it and you should do it for a change.”
One of her eyebrows raised slightly as she sat out the storm that was Rhys’ aversion to housework. He muttered and grumbled and at one point he even sat back down, folded his arms and declared. “I don’t want to carve your stupid pumpkin anyway, or go trick or treating, it’s for little kids and you can ground me if you want.”
“You want to be grounded and miss out on time with your friends and making our pumpkin for Hallowe’en, just because you don’t want to wash up two bowls and two glasses?” Lou commented, knowing it would only fuel his temper but unable to resist.
“And a manky disgusting saucepan.” Rhys scowled.
“I haven’t asked you to do the pan Rhys, only the bowls and glasses. The pan has burned porridge in, like it always does so I’ll soak it and do it later. You know I will and you know you’ll have to do the job anyway so why are you making a big deal of it?” Lou knew this was part of his growing up and part of him trying to assert himself but as it was just the two of them now she had to make sure he took some responsibility round the house and so she did ask him to do some things, such as the easy bits of washing up and some of the tidying. This was also why she made sure they went shopping together so he saw what was needed and he helped dealing with money and living on a very tight budget.
Still grumbling, Rhys ran hot water into the sink and washed up the breakfast things and last of all he filled the porridge pan with hot soapy water so it could soak. By the time he’d finished the top was off the pumpkin and the lid was in a ragged star shape with the remains of the stalk as a handle.
“Could we try growing one next year?” He asked, wiping his hands on a tea towel.
“I don’t see why not. They take up quite a bit of room though and we’d need to start the plant off in early spring but indoors I think.” Lou trimmed the flesh from the inside of the lid and neatened the edges before setting it aside and leaving Rhys to haul out the seeds and slimy middle parts and begin to carve out the more solid flesh. He scraped at the inside with a spoon and carefully put the flesh separate from the seeds, which would be put out for the birds. The scooped out flesh would be made into soup for dinner that evening and they’d bought some special crusty bread to go with it and Rhys was looking forward to the evening.
Through the day Rhys’ mum had him clearing up as well as decorating the living room window with spider webs, fat fabric spiders, dangling skeletons and flying witches. In the corner sat the rich orange pumpkin, carved with triangular eyes and a gaping mouth with one solitary tooth. Lou had put her foot down at the suggestion of a wide mouth that looked like it was vomiting the seeds and stringy bits from the inside that Rhys had wanted to make so he settled for a reasonably easy but scary design. It had a small candle sitting inside it to be lit as the sun went down and other assorted candles were sitting in the window as well. They made cheese on toast for lunch and Rhys was allowed to go out to see his friends after he’d hoovered the living room, reluctantly and with a lot of grumbling, but he did it.
He pulled on a coat but didn’t bother doing it up as the day was mild and the sky was soft blue with a scattering of high white clouds. If it hadn’t been cool it might have been a summer sky.
“This weather’s weird.” Lou muttered as she closed the front door behind him and watched him walk off down the road and she knew he was going to call on Craig first.
It took Rhys less than five minutes to reach Craig’s house and he banged on the blue front door, knowing that the bell hadn’t worked for as long as they’d known each other. But no-one had bothered taking the button away. Craig’s dad said it stopped people who were trying to sell him things he didn’t want, they could press the bell as much as they liked and no-one would answer the door. Rhys liked Craig’s dad. He was a tall man, towering over everyone Rhys knew but he wasn’t scary. He had a wide smile and a laugh that made you want to laugh with him. His big hands were gentle and strong at the same time and hairy on the back, pale hair that curled like wire. His neat blond goatee beard wriggled when he smiled and he was laughing as he opened the door, bright blue eyes shining as he looked down at Rhys.
“Good afternoon young man, what can we do for you?”
“Hi Mr B. Is Craig in?” Rhys waited until he was waved in.
“He’s in his room, playing some game or other. Go on up.” Mr Bartholomew, or Mr B as he was known to most of Craig’s friends, was a postman who worked the earliest shifts he could so he could be at home for his family during the evenings. He did work some weekends but he tried not to. Mrs Bartholomew was much shorter than her husband and was also blonde but with a red glint when the sun caught it the right way and her hair was long and straight, almost reaching her waist. She worked at the school the boys went to as the cook and everyone liked her dinners.
“Hello Mrs B!” Rhys called as he ran up the stairs.
“Hi Rhys.” She called back and he could smell sweet baking wafting through the house. “Tell Craig the gingerbread biscuits will be ready in about ten minutes?”
“I will.”
Craig’s bedroom door was open and the lights flickering on the walls and the sounds of engines told Rhys that he was playing his new racing game.
“Can I race you?” Rhys leaned on the door and waited until Craig looked up at him and grinned.
“Yeah, just let me finish this race and then I can set it for two players. But I though we were going round to Tom and Cam’s so we can go trick or treating?” Craig’s blue eyes were fixed on the screen as his car splashed through mud and skidded off the track. Blond hair flopped into his eyes and stuck up at the back of his head where it never lay flat no matter what he did with it or how it was cut.
“We’re not going til after it’s dark though, that’d be daft.” Rhys sat on Craig’s bed and the envelope crinkled in his back pocket. “Your mum said the ginger biscuits will be ready in a bit and my mum is expecting me to go home for dinner before we go and get Tom and Cam and we need a grown up with us or she’ll not let me come.”
“Cam’s dad will come with us now he’s living with them again.” Craig was frowning at his game where his car had crashed again and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to win. “Oh I give up, I can’t win this.” Craig stabbed a finger at the power button and turned the game off and threw the controller on the floor. “I can smell baking!”
“I told you that.” Rhys shook his head and as he did something moved the controller to a placer closer to the shelf where it was supposed to live. Something was pulling at the cable. He blinked and stared for a moment but it didn’t move again so he shrugged and followed Craig downstairs where Craig’s mum was lifting ginger biscuits cut in an assortment of different shapes from the oven.
“Not these.” She scolded and gently slapped his reaching fingers away from the searing hot tray. “Have one from the side there.” She nodded to a pile of cooling biscuits and both boys slid past her to breathe in the delicious smell coming from them. “Just one each or you’ll spoil your tea!” She called over her shoulder as they thought about taking more. “Are you heading over to Cam’s to see if he and Tom are trick or treating tonight?”
“Yeah.” Craig mumbled, trying not to spray crumbs everywhere.
“Then take some of those for Kate and the other kids too.” She scooped a generous handful of biscuits into a paper bag and folded the top down as she handed it to Craig. “And don’t eat them all on the way.”
“We won’t Mum!” He laughed as he and Rhys ran out of the front door.
“DOOR!” Mr B roared as it swung open again and the boys raced down the road so he shut it behind them, shaking his head with a smile. “Exactly like I was at that age.” He wandered into the kitchen and slid his arms round his wife, sneaking a biscuit as he did.
“Oy!” She swatted at him. “You’re worse than the boys.”
I need to let my son read this. I think he will really enjoy it. I’m enjoying itxxxx
Go for it, I’d welcome the feedback – and you never know, commenters might get asked to proof read if I decide to publish.
this chapter is more exciting than the ones i have read so far Sarah! I Love it!
Cool, glad you like it so far – any ideas on what you’d like to see happen?
You know I’m game for proofing when the time comes.
I know you are H!