Plan B

Chapter Thirty-six

Fran was awake long before Brookie’s younger siblings piled en masse and screaming into her room.

“Brookie’s friend!” one of them exclaimed happily, tugging at the duvet when Fran pulled it up over her head in an effort to ignore them, but it meant that she couldn’t read the book she’d taken off the bookshelf half an hour before.  She wasn’t sure if the bookshelf in the guest room was where all the books in the Stonehelm series were kept or if Brookie had remembered her saying that Stonehelm was her favourite book, but either way, they were there, and she was beginning to get curious as to exactly how Brookie was doing as Miden.

She was saved after only twenty seconds of chaos by the appearance of a just-showered Brookie and Caitlin, who resembled a python who had just been awoken from sleep by somebody treading on it.

“Out,” she snapped as Brookie picked up two of the youngest by the scruffs of their necks and deposited them on the other side of the threshold.  “Leave Fran alone and go play somewhere where you’re not going to disturb my sleep.  I’m jetlagged.”

“But—!” one of the boys protested as Brookie shooed another half dozen of them out of the door.

“No buts!” Caitlin hissed.  “Out.  Side.  Now.”

“But it’s raining!”

Brookie snorted and his lips twitched: he clearly had no sympathy.  All the others except Bertie submitted morosely to being evicted from Fran’s room, but when Caitlin and Brookie tried to shoe him out too, he dug his heels in.

“Bertie, this is your last warning,” Caitlin told him.  “Leave the poor girl be.”

“You creeped her out enough yesterday,” Brookie added.

“I was just going to ask her what she wanted for breakfast!” Bertie protested.

Fran set up and set Stonehelm aside.  “Oh, I’m not hungry; don’t bother with it.”

Caitlin shot her a dubious look; Brookie turned an equally dubious look on Bertie.

“Really?” they both said in unison, with the exact same disparaging tone.

Bertie’s shoulders slumped.  “No, but it was worth the try.”

Exhaling loudly, Brookie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  It was a gesture that Fran was relatively familiar with, as he had had a habit of doing it around her during her first few days at Darkwood.

“There’s bacon in the fridge,” he told his little brother.  “Fish fingers are in the freezer and eggs are out on the counter because Tessa didn’t put them away last night.  Can you cook some for us and bring them to the kitchenette up here?”

Bertie pouted.  “Can’t I join you?”

“No.  But thanks.”  Brookie patted him on the shoulder.  “Now scram.”

Fran cocked her head on one side as Bertie bolted out through the door yelling: “Fry up!  Breakfast is a fry up!”

“You guys have such an odd family dynamic,” she observed over the shouts of excitement following Bertie downstairs towards the kitchen.  “In my family, disagreements and shouting are practically World War Three.”

Brookie and Caitlin exchanged wary glances, but decided not to comment.  Caitlin yawned and stretched like a cat.

“I recommend changing while the terrors aren’t around,” she mumbled.  “We can only occupy them for so long.”  She shuffled towards the door.