They let themselves in and go into the kitchen, where Fen is stirring something on the stove. Una comes over, kisses her cheek, and looks in the pot.
"Winter melon soup!" she gasps, grinning, and Timmy comes to stand on the other side of the Fen, glancing into the pot.
"It smells lovely. I have never had this," he says, and Fen smiles at him.
"It's Una's favourite," she says. "One of them. Give that a stir, would you?"
Una picks up the wooden spatula and stirs the vegetables in the wok.
"Is it like a melon melon?" Timmy asks.
Una smiles.
"No, it's more like a squash inside, but it's...I don't know how to describe it. It kind of tastes like the white bit of watermelon," Una explains, albeit not very well. She looks up at Timothée, who is staring blankly at the rice cooker.
"Oh, a squash is like, um. I don't know what the French is," she says, and Timmy gets out his phone, tapping a couple of times.
"Ah, une courge," he nods. "This looks wonderful."
"It is. Especially the meatballs. They're the best bit," Una says.
"They are," Fen nods, smiling.
There is silence for a moment. Then, "We usually don't eat this in winter, but I was craving it a little bit. And it is Una's favourite."
"Thank you, mum," Una whispers, kissing her cheek again and going to get some plates out. Timmy is still standing there, looking at the soup bubbling.
—
"Go and get Frank for dinner, will you?" Fen asks, and Una glances at Timmy. He is already staring at her, his mouth twitched to one side.
"I'll do it," he says quickly, his mouth pressed into a line. Una watches him go, watches his stooped shoulders as he slopes out of the room.
"Mum?" she asks, getting cutlery out of the drawer. Fen makes a noise of acknowledgement, and Una waits a bit before speaking. She wants to try and get this right.
"Have you ever thought about Timmy leaving?"
Fen looks over her shoulder, still stirring the soup. "Of course," she says, "it was all I could think about the first week he was here, the poor boy. He left mess everywhere. It was like having two toddlers again."
Una thinks about the ring of milk on the kitchen counter left over from his cereal. The socks in random places. The little signs that Timmy had been somewhere - the door to the downstairs bathroom left ajar, the toothbrush left to dry on the side of the sink, the dirty trainers left by the back door.
"But he's better now, isn't he?" Una asks, fiddling with the edge of a tea towel. There is a pause as Fen turns down the heat and turns around, resting her hands on the countertop.
"Yes," she says slowly. "Why do you ask?"
Una puts down the tea towel and picks up a clean glass from the drying rack. "I was just wondering," she begins, but finds that she can't finish her sentence. "It's going to be weird without him here, isn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it will be," Fen nods. "I think we'll all miss him," she says lightly, but something in her tone makes Una look at her.
She hums distractedly, pouring water into her glass.
"Could you go and tell them to hurry up?" Fen asks, getting plates down from the cupboard.
"Yeah," Una nods, pulling the sleeves of her jumper down over her hands and leaving the room to catch up with Timmy.
YOU ARE READING
IN THE HOURS BETWEEN • TC
Fanfiction"Are you lost?" "No, I'm Timothée." --- When her brother's exchange student first comes to stay, Una feels like a stranger in her own house. Timothée speaks English slowly and softly; pauses in the wrong places, constantly tries to take back what h...
