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The Safe House

Proserpina

The large windows were open and the sunlight was now streaming in, gradually. Drapes in rich yellow hues danced in the gentle breeze coming in.

The rays of the sun fell on my children as they stood, side by side and it played on their golden curls. They stood like two golden angels in their overcoats and pyjamas, observing Paddy. The young fellow was looking away, lowering his head, focusing on a tiny piece of thread he had picked from his cardigan.

I felt my heart swell with pride. My son never failed to make me feel humbled. He was gentle and loving.

But Ria, ever the dictator, had to have the last word. Now she tapped her chin importantly and announced,

“Alright. He can play with us.’

***

“Off to the bathroom, kids,’ I stated in a no-nonsense tone and they raced away, hell-bent on exploring the house. Sophie followed them out, holding Paddy's hand. Claude let out an ear-splitting wail, struggling wildly, clamouring, demanding to be taken to them but I soothed him wearily
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