Young Writers Society

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Tally sat on her windowsill pondering over the amount of time it would take for her three sugar filled cousins and twin brother to thunder into the house after her mum called them for dinner. The aromatic scents drifted lazily up to Tally’s attic bedroom, mimicking the clouds outside on that hot summers day. Being an award winning catering chef often meant that her mum created delicious meals. This was quite handy for the many people that were always straying in and out of the house. Tally propped herself up higher. It was her calm and simple paradise; to perch like a cat on her windowsill with a warm, sunny glow on her face.

‘Thunck’.

'Moment of paradise over'. A red ball bounced off Tally’s head and rolled across the carpet.

“Thanks Tom” Tally muttered as she uncurled her legs and seized the ball before it disappeared under her bed. Tom was Tally’s immature twin brother. His hair was blondy- brown, his eyes a much lighter green then Tally’s. People in the streets often assumed that the twins were lovingly angelic rather then detesting each others company. Tally sighed and leant out the window.

“Can I have my ball back?” Tom shouted from the garden.

There was a squeal from behind him. They both glanced at the source of the noise. Their cousins May, Anna and Rich all seemed to have already forgotten about the ball. Tally raised her eyebrows haughtily.

“What do you think?” she said.

She shut her window. As she did so there was a shout from four floors below.

“Dinner!”

The four children in the garden were off like a shot through the patio doors. Tally smiled as she heard the clatter into chairs. She dropped the ball back onto her carpet and left. On the floor below she bumped into her older brother, Alex. He was sixteen, three years older then Tally. Alex spent most of his time either in his room or out with his friends. Tally's friends always remarked on how mysterious and handsome he was. Tom tried to model himself as a smaller, blonder version of his brother.

“You alright?” Alex mumbled.

Tally stared up at him and frowned.

“Do you really care?”

Alex paused and pretended to think. He looked down at her.

"No,” he replied bluntly.

Not troubled by her brother’s lack of care, Tally skipped down the stairs, Alex slouched behind. In the spacious, modern kitchen, the family sat at a large white table tucking into an Italian dinner made by Tally’s mum. She had been brought up in Italy and hadn’t moved to their swanky London house until Alex was born. Tally scanned the room from her spot halfway down the stairs. Her dad still wasn’t back. For the past two weeks he had been in the south of France on a business trip.

“I take it your eating there then?” came a sarcastic voice from above her.

Alex nudged Tally aside and took a seat at the table. She followed him and was about to sit down between Rich and Anna when the doorbell rang.

“Oh can you get the door please?” Tally’s mum asked.

Tally skidded across the glossy, white tiles, along the hallway and to the front door. She unlocked the latch and let it swing inwards. On her doorstep was her aunt and two of the most stuck up cousins in the whole of England. Beatrix and Priscilla. They observed the rest of the family as scum but were too well trained to say anything unless it invloved them. Tally dreaded to think what they would be like when they were older. Maybe there was hope they wouldn’t turn out like there mum, Aunt Esmerelda. She was dressed in a beige skirt and jacket with a pale pink shirt underneath. Tally hoped she was hiding her disgust as they stalked inside in a single file line.

“Take my coat Tallulah, where are your manners?” Aunt Esmerelda snapped at Tally.

Tally grimaced at being called by her proper name.

Beatrix and Pricilla were lead into the kitchen like show horses by their mum. Tally shut the door and leant against it, shutting her eyes.