The Storm
Annie ran in from the garden with a little bunch of daisies in her hand.
‘Mummy, look,’ she cried. ‘For you!’
‘Can’t you look where you’re stepping,’ her mother chided. ‘And put those in the bin, there’s greenfly on them.’
Annie stopped in her tracks and the corners of her mouth turned down.
‘And don’t you start crying now,’ her mother admonished. ‘Just put those weeds in the bin and wash your hands. We’ll be having tea in a minute.’
Annie slowly turned away with tears in her eyes, swallowing a sob. She tried hard not to cry. She knew Mummy didn’t like it. Dragging her feet she made her way to the downstairs cloakroom, dropped her beautiful little posy in the peddle bin, climbed on the footstool and turned the tap on. Carefully she soaped and rinsed her hands as not to get any water drops on her dress so Mummy wouldn’t shout at her again.
Then she slowly went to the kitchen. She opened a cupboard and started to take a plate out wanting to lay the table.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ her mother asked.
Annie’s lower lip started to quiver. ‘Helping?’ she squeaked.
‘You’ll only break something,’ her mother said. ‘Just sit yourself down at the table and be quiet until tea is ready.
While Mummy rushed about the kitchen Annie hunched in her chair trying to make herself as small as possible. Mummy had one of her ‘days’ today. It was always really difficult when she had one of her days.
Daddy had said to be very nice to her when that happened and Annie had tried. But it had all backfired.
Soon the front door went and coming into the house Daddy shouted: ‘Hello, how are my lovely girls?’
Coming into the kitchen he said: ‘Something smells nice,’,.
‘Oh, don’t you start,’ his wife growled.
Daddy looked at her and then at Annie. Annie’s lower lip had started to quiver again. But Daddy whisked her out of her chair and gave her a big hug.
Later in bed after Daddy had read her her story Annie remembered her day. How Mummy had been short and grumpy with her and how she had gone into the garden to find her some nice flowers to make her feel better. And Mummy’s harsh words rang in her ears again. Annie started to scratch her arm. It made it feels sore. She then thought about Mummy shouting at her in the kitchen and she started to bite the inside of her cheeks. It hurt but not enough. She lifted her arm to her mouth and bit into it, hard. That was better. She found a different place and bit again. Slowly the inner pain subsided. Eventually she fell asleep.
Annie stirred, a sun beam was tickling her nose. She jumped out of bed and dressed herself. She was a big girl and could do it all on her own. She skipped down the stairs and settled at the breakfast table.
‘Good morning, Sweety,’ Mummy greeted her and put some cereal in front of Annie.
‘Shall we go to the park when you’re finished?’ Mummy asked?
Annie nodded and smiled. Today was a better day.
They left the house and by the pedestrian crossing Mummy took Annie’s hand. She saw the scratches and welts on the inside of Annie’s arm.
‘Poor love,’ she said. ‘Has it been itching again?’
Annie nodded. She wouldn’t tell Mummy the reason for the marks. This was her own little secret.
