Moss

We all sat unmoving and bored out of our minds, staring at a blank television set that nobody made a move to even turn on. I smiled with malcontent, for this silent awkwardness had been caused by me.

Ruby had left Alastair, Liam, his witch of a wife and I alone, claiming her life and soul to hazardously cleaning in the kitchen, insisting Zara, Liam's so called 'wife' - she actually had a name, ick - and I to sit with the boys to catch up and get to know one another. Ruby's hubby, Stephen, was in the upstairs bathroom releasing a load I could only presume. Liam, Alastair's older brother had attempted to introduce his wife to me when we had been sitting in the kitchen, beef stew amiss.

I had felt like a immature git when I completely disregarded her and asked Alastair to pass the maple syrup as though the two didn't exist. I had a perfectly good reason for acting this way; like a cow. I'd taken Liam's leave for a 'bigger and better' life to heart six years ago, when we were sixteen. I had grown up with him for the most part of my life, since school we had been friends.

I had always known Liam McDonald to be ambitious. He was the kid who would work extra hard at school and paid attention. He was likable, too likable. He'd had a reason to leave. He had ambition. He had a dream. And I, sadly, envied that. Any sort of ambition or dream of a better life was exempt. It was like the big guy up above the world so high had functioned me like this on purpose out of spite.

Despite knowing that I was acting childish, I continued to ignore the married couple beside me, loving every minute of it.

I leant forward, fingering a ripped ladder in my tights as I moved forwards to grab the remote control. I saw Alastair's face light up with relief. The news channel flickered it's way onto the once blank screen and with a bored, "Ew," I changed the channel.

That was when the awkwardness hit it's peak. All eyes were focused onto the television screen. Zara coughed nervously. Alastair shrieked momentarily, one of the many reactions in the room that I had expected once I turned the channel to that of porn. It was actually just some porn free view channel, with barbie doll looking women suggestively whacking their body around the screen.

"Are you being serious?!" said Liam, staring at me incredulously.

I shuffled away slightly, holding a palm to my left hear, "There's no need to shout, I'm right here beside you!" I yelled obnoxiously back at him.

"Change the channel," he bellowed, just as loudly.

"No!"

"Change it right now, Poppy," his face had turned red, but I didn't take him seriously, despite how he had menacingly lowered his voice.

"Look Poppy, I don't quite comprehend what your problem is, but I have a five year old daughter in this house somewhere and I do not appreciate this obscenity, especially if she were to walk in right this minute. Now stop acting so immaturely, change the damn channel, and hug my husband like I know you really want to right now"

That was when I really looked at her. No, I mean really, really looked at her properly without the mess of jealously, hatred and denial clouding up my judgment. It was then that I had decided that I liked her. She was exactly the type of person whom I had always imagined Liam would meet.

Zara looked at me expectantly and as though she understood exactly how I felt, she nodded at me with reassurance, and smiled. I tried to smile back, but it came out looking as though I was constipated. But really I was deep in thought.

I turned the television off and Alastair sighed with relief. I moved my body so that it was facing him, embarrassed to even look at Liam or Zara. I smiled weakly at the red headed boy and ruffled his hair. She brushed in back into place, with a smiled in return, as though he knew exactly why I was acting this way.

"So," I turned back around to Liam, whom I had caught kissing Zara on her cheek, "Where's your kid, eh?"

Liam smiled, the exact same smile Alastair had, except Liam's cheekbones didn't squish his eyes in the cute way Alastair's did. Liam patted my shoulder, a secret sign that all was well and that's we could pick things up again, getting to know one another again. I was fine with this, but would take a lot of stamina and courage to get through this all none the less. It sure wasn't going to be easy, for I hated situations where I was out of my comfort zone.

"She's actually upstairs. She's was extremely tired from the journey here from Essex," said Liam.

"You live in Essex?"

"Yes, it's great," he looked sideways at Zara, who bumped his shouldered. He looked back at me, expecting another question to be fired his way.

"Is it Essex better than here ... the farm?"

"Never"

"Good answer"

He chuckled, "I always aim to please you little Poppy Lee"

"Hey! I'm not little anymore Liam, I'm a 22 year old business women," I'd exaggerated of course, Liam knew this only too well.

"You're only fooling yourself love"

The handle of the door to the living room creaked as it was pushed down from the outside. Whomever it was clearly struggled to get the door open and all four pairs of eyes in the room seemed to sit and stare as the struggle continued.

It was when a tiny voice wailed, "Alohomora," that Zara stood from her place on the settee beside Liam and opened the door.

The door clicked and a mass of fire red hair, much like Liam's and Alastair's bobbed it's way into the room. On the opposing side of the room stood a small girl, straining to look up over the mass of hair that almost fully cover her eyes. Her mouth was slightly parted and her eyes fell onto Liam.

"Dad!" she placed a hand on her left hip and pointed her right finger at her father, "You told me that the spell would work! You lied daddy, the door wouldn't open"

"You didn't try hard enough, Florence," Liam sat back, his hands behind his head, amused.

"I said it, Alohomora, Alohomara, like this"

"How about this? You go to bed and we'll go to Ollivander's and buy you a wand, so you can practice spells all the time!"

Zara clouted Liam across the head, "How the hell are you planning to take her to friggin' Ollivander's you nutter," she whispered angrily. Zara turned back to her daughter and smiled, "Come on sweetie, bed time," she held out her hands for Florence to take but she shook her head and stood firm.

"Wait, I don't want to go back to bed, mum. I want to know who she is"

The child pointed at me and for a split second I was taken aback.

"I'm Poppy"

I had no idea what to do or say. I awkwardly stuck out an hand for the small girl to shake.

"I once had a birdie named Poppy. I killed her by accident. She's living in Heaven now"

...