Saving from Monkeys by Star Jessie L

Author:Star, Jessie L. [Star, Jessie L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-02-22T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11 – The Dinner and the Robbery that Didn’t Happen

"What are you doing?"

My shoulders hunched, and the hand that had been furiously scrubbing at the woodwork froze. I was so sprung. I rocked back on my haunches, blew the hair that had escaped its tie out of my face, and looked up to see Elliot scowling down at me.

It was early evening three days after we'd arrived at the Sinclair house. The status update was thus: Elliot and I were exhausted and Nan had continued in much the same form she'd been in since we'd first seen her. That was, bloody awful.

When I wasn't sitting with Nan, I'd taken to moving like a zombie through the soulless house, re-cleaning spotless areas my mother had already seen to. I'd never particularly enjoyed these domestic tasks when I was paid to do them, but now they were like my lifeline. Maybe it was because they were familiar and from back in a time when Nan was her proper, powerful self, or maybe I just enjoyed the monotony.

For Elliot's part, he seemed to be seeking solace in getting in his strange, plain car and barrelling off down the drive. I don't think he headed anywhere in particular; he just needed to get out. Frankly, as long as he returned in time to have my back when I went in to see Nan again, this suited me just fine. With him gone, I was able to regress to my cleaner ways without interference.

I knew, without really knowing why, that being on my hands and knees scrubbing away Sinclair grime would really get up Elliot's nose. And, judging by his expression at that moment, I'd been spot on.

"Did the slingshot dislodge your eyes? What does it look like I'm doing?" I resumed my work tetchily, jabbing at an almost invisible speck of dust with my wire brush and then wiping at it with my dusting cloth.

"It looks like you're scratching the paintwork off the skirting boards outside my room. I take it you're going to blame that on me too, just for old time's sake?" Elliot crouched down next to me, his face twisting as this move presumably pressed awkwardly against his fading bruises.

I glanced back along where I'd worked and reassured myself that he was just being a pain; there were no scratches, where I'd been shone proudly.

"Haha," I deadpanned. "You know, a simple thank you would suffice."

"Thank you?" He reached across and tugged the cloth out of my hand as I leant forward to wipe some more, pretty much non-existent, dirt away. "I think this is crap, Rox."

"Well there's gratitude for you!" I pressed my brush in against my chest in case he got any ideas about snatching that from me as well and glared at him.

"So is this what you've been doing when I've been gone?" He asked, a definite bite in his voice. "You're here as a guest and you've been sneaking off to do this?"

Oh dear. I wished then

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