WHIRLPOOL 

By Tessa Harvey


    "I can do this," she thought. She turned to the children, grabbing her thick coat and boots. Then she set the stove timer for twelve minutes. "Dad is due home, Susan. Don't worry about tea. I will find Thomas. Pray. Ask Dad to come downstream. You can come too. Bring a blanket."
    Esther grabbed her phone, kissed the sad children, flung open the door and was gone into the gathering storm. The door slammed shut. Susan looked at Archie. "Come on, let's set the table. I can put the jug on. We can help."
    "What about a place for Thomas?" asked Archie, trying not to cry again. "We will all be here," his sister answered - thinking really is this going to end well?
    Hurrying to the sink, she carefully started peeling the potatoes and carrots just as the timer buzzed. They both jumped. No dad.
    "We mustn't cry," Susan's voice wobbled. "Dad just got stuck in a traffic jam. Mum said pray."

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