Kitty
Moving Home
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Moving Home
Kitty made her way downstairs with a folder stuffed with pictures and letters in her hand. She placed it on the table as her stomach rumbled; it was already past lunchtime. She opened the fridge and peered inside. ‘What do I fancy?’ She laughed because what she fancied was smoked salmon, brown bread spread thickly with unsalted butter and a big glass of plonk; what she was getting, however, were the remnants of a rather sorry-looking pot of hummus, half a packet of out-of-date carrot batons and a small square of paté. Reaching up, she pulled the oatcakes from the tin on the larder shelf and settled back down at the table. She thought for the first time in a long time about lovely Marjorie, who had passed away a few years back, and her mouth watered at the memory of her hot home-baked loaves with the blackened crust.
She thumbed the papers that spilled from the folder in front of her, and rested her fingers on a letter from Anna to Sophie, her first, sent to her school dorm. Wiping the oatcake crumbs from her chest, she opened the sheet and scanned it.
Dear Sophie,
Hello! We’ve never met, but…
Kitty sat back in the chair, ‘Oh! Oh my goodness.’ She felt the swell of emotion in her throat and took a moment to catch her breath.