PEELING THE APPLE #Wattys2015

Chapter 1

I sat at a wooden little table on a wooden little chair as the old woman busied herself with the scones.
"Would you like some tea or something to drink?" She asked.
"Tea please," I replied politely.
Her kitchen was small and old fashioned, but suited her. It had a white wallpaper with little yellow and pink flowers stemming from the bottom of the wall. It was really pretty. The floor had small, white little squares. The counters were a plain brown colour and held a small metal kettle, a dark brown oven, a microwave, fridge and a toaster. The cupboards were yellowed with age and slightly peeled. A photo frame hung by the door. I got up and walked slowly towards it. There, where two people, one a woman who had jet black curly hair, pale and slightly plump. The photo was in sepia, so I couldn't gather much. She had her pale arms wrapped around a tall man wearing a suit and smile. The man was extremely tall and muscular. He had gelled back hair and looked tan.
"Are you staring at my Harry?" The woman asked, wiping her hands on her apron, "You are welcome to walk around the house and take a look if you like."
I nodded and took a step out. I walked straight into a little room that held an old, wooden bookshelf. I looked around some more and saw it was covered in old furniture. Pink curtains hung from the racks and a few old chairs where scattered about. The bookshelf was against the wall, a table and lamp with an old lamp shade pushed next to it. Pictures and plates hung on the walls, giving it a clustered but homey feeling. I ran my hands along the books, some Charles Dickens, some photo albums and some on war and planes. I ran my hands over the one book I loved. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. I smiled as the memory of my father reading that to me came back. I pushed it back and walked past the bathroom. It was a pink colour.
She really likes pink, I thought to myself.
I walked into what I assumed to be her bedroom. A giant wooden dresser with a huge mirror took up one side of the wall, while a single bed was opposite and cupboard was halfway across another, a wooden bedside table sat against her bed. A lamp similiar to the one in the lounge, with a frame of the same man who was in all the pictures. He was wearing soldier uniform and wearing a medal. He had a moustache and beard in this picture, and his eyes looked wild and tormented. He was also skinnier than he was in all the other pictures. A letter lay next to the picture and I picked it up. The paper was almost brown and held millions of creases, looking as if it had been folded and refolded. I ran my hands over it, tempting to open it, but I put it down and walked back to the little kitchen. The old woman was putting a jug of milk back in.
"I was just about to call you," She said, a warm smile on her crinkled face. It reminded me of that piece of paper that had been on the table.
I sat down on the same little wooden chair and she placed my tea infront of me. The scones were huge and golden and sat on a yellow plate in the middle of the table.
"Please help yourself to sugar and jam," she said, placing them both next to the plate. I did and took two sugar cubes and dropped it in my tea, makong a plonk sound.
"Thank-you. I never caught your name. May I ask what it is?" I asked.
"Lucille Watson, but you may call me Lucy," she said, "And yours?"
"Hannah Pearson." I said.
"Pearson? Why do I know that name?" Lucy said, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"My father, he was the lawyer that got shot at the Apple store," I blurted.
Her eyes softened and she nodded, "Yes, I remember. I was there. You were the little girl that was with him weren't you?" She asked, pity written on her face
I nodded.
"I lost someone I loved as well. Well, I've lost many people all very important to me. Would you like to hear a story?" She asked.
I nodded.
"You don't talk much, do you?" She asked.
I shook my head.
She just smiled.
"Well, get ready then. This may be long."
I stared at her as she began.
**
Hey guys.
So hopefully this chapter was better than the introduction. Thank you for reading this. Please remember to vote and comment. Thank you xxx