Chapter 12: second morning

I woke early the next morning. It was very quiet, so I guessed that the others were still asleep. I didn't get up, I felt far too warm and comfortable to want to get out of bed.

I think I'd reached a decision - just put up with it. It might be shitty, but get through the two weeks and put it behind you. I mean, I hadn't expected to enjoy this so-called holiday in the first place, had I?

So what to do then? Two weeks of sulking in my room to show them how pissed off I was didn't sound like a good idea. I was already fed up with doing that. Yell at them, abuse them, would that work?

Maybe, maybe not, anyway, that wasn't my style. I believed that throwing a tantrum only gave your opponent (enemy?) the satisfaction of seeing that they'd upset you. My brother, Matt, was pretty much the only one who could do that to me.

Okay, okay, just put up with this shit, and maybe you could even manage to have some fun.

I heard noises. I got up and went out.

"Hurry up and get that fire going, Morris, it's so damn cold this morning."

"I am, Paget, I am, I'm busting a gut here," Mr Keaton replied jokingly.

He was squatting by the fireplace stoking up the fire. I went over and squatted next to him.

"Morning, Lynda," he smiled, "you cold?"

"Yeah," I replied putting my hands out towards the flames that were starting to lick the logs.

Mrs Keaton came over and squatted down next to us. "Hi, Lynda, did you sleep well, love?"

"Yeah, good."

"Morris, you said that the forecast was for warmer weather."

"It is. Warm sunny days, but some cool nights."

"This isn't cool, this is bloody cold, isn't it, Lynda?"

"You bet." I had to stop myself from laughing.

"You two are a pair of sooks. You've got to toughen up."

"Rubbish."

"Right. Oh, where's Randolph?"

"Smart enough to stay in bed until Dad got the fire going."

I gave a brief snort. "That was smart."

"Ha," Mr Keaton nodded, "it looks like we won't see Lynda so early tomorrow morning."

I had to smile, damn it.

I wanted to hate these people - they deserved to be hated - but I was finding it hard.

"Do you want bacon and eggs again this morning, Lynda?"

We very rarely had bacon and eggs at home - couldn't afford it - so might as well make hay . . .

"Yes, please," I responded immediately.

The fire was now blazing merrily and the room was warming up quickly. Wood fires are fascinating things; I was staring fixedly into the flames, watching them leap up and die down, and creep around onto other pieces of wood; there were occasional bursts of sparks sending dancing fairies flying up the chimney.

"Lynda, it's ready, love."

With a mumbled 'thank you', I sat down and got stuck into my delicious breakfast. Randolph came out.

"Hello, sleepyhead, nice of you to join us," his father said shaking his head.

"It was too cold to get up."

"Oh lord, another one."

Mr Keaton went on, "It looks like we will need more firewood to keep you wimps warm, so I'll split some more logs after breakfast. Randy, you and Lynda can fill up the firewood box inside and then stack the new stuff on the wood pile."