“Mum! Nooooooo.”
His scream was shrill and distraught. My heart beat hard against my chest. What on earth was wrong, this time? But before I could call back, an angry shout came towards me accompanied by footstamps on the stairs.
“What have you done? I can’t wear this.”
I quickly unlocked the bathroom door, still doing up my flies.
“You know Mum’s not here; I’ll be there in a moment, James.”
But he was already standing outside the door, waiting for me.
“Look, Dad.” He held out two articles of clothing. Two pink articles of clothing, still wet from the washing machine. Continue reading “No Solution”
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Boadicea's Chariot 