The Fragile Tower - Book 1 of the No.1 magical fantasy series

The Fragile Tower Chapter 3 - The Gold Coin

Ma was working at the kitchen table, pretending that she wasn't waiting for them, but Grace stepped inside first, and saw the way her mother's head snapped up to look over at the door. She was squinting slightly, a look Grace knew meant that she was worried, and only relaxed a little when she saw the rest of the family pour in through the door.

            Grace felt a squirming guilt, but then also a little bit of defiance. They were with Dad. Why shouldn't they go to the fair?

            "Hey, Ma," she said lightly, pulling her key out of the door and tugging Benjamin in after her. He was trying to writhe out of his thick coat as he went, instantly too hot in the warmth of the house as he always was. Grace found herself holding an empty sleeve with a glove wedged into the end of it, and Benjamin was halfway towards the sitting-room and the TV.

            "Where did you lot get to?" Ma asked, closing her sketchpad deliberately and acting casual. That told Grace how frightened she'd really been if nothing else had done it. Nothing short of absolute terror made Ma want to pretend that everything was all right.

Ma stretched and stood up, kneading her shoulder. "I thought you'd be back ages before I was."

            "We went to the fair," Dad said, before Grace had to explain. He was trying to unbutton Maggie's pink duffel-coat while she jumped up and down, and so he didn't see the way Ma's eyes narrowed.

            "It was great," Maggie said, punctuating her excited words with bounces. "There were jugglers and fire-breathers and cotton candy and a carousel and I went on it twice. And then I was nearly sick."

            "Neither of you answered your phone," Ma said, looking between Grace and her father.

            "I guess I left it here," Dad mumbled, making a big deal of hanging Maggie's coat up so he didn't have to look at Ma. Grace felt a little sorry for her father just then. She knew he was in a lot more trouble than she was. "Sorry, sweetheart."

            "Really sorry, Ma. I didn't turn mine back on after school," Grace chimed in, though Ma wasn't looking at her but at Dad.

            She unbuttoned her coat, beginning to sweat in the heat, and hung her school-bag by the door. Ma was putting her work things into her briefcase, and Grace saw that she was shaking very slightly.

            She sighed, feeling like it was a huge over-reaction but hating that she'd helped to cause it anyway. She went over to Ma and hugged her as she straightened up.

             "How was the meet?"

"Meeting," Ma corrected her, automatically. "It was good. They really want me to do something genuinely original, instead of copying some rubbish they've seen at some corporate event. It should be fun."

"Did we mess up dinner?"

            "No, I haven't made anything," Ma told her, and squeezed her around the middle in return, before letting go and tugging gently on her hair. "You look like you've been rubbing balloons on your head. Was there some kind of static thing there?"

            Grace glanced at her reflection in the kitchen window, and saw that her hair was frizzed up all over. She tried to flatten it down, remembering the strange feeling as she had touched the globe, and shook her head.

            "I got snow in it, I think," she replied.

            "Does no dinner mean we get to order takeout?" Dad asked, taking Grace's place next to Ma.