It was a lovely day, despite the winter cold. The sun was bright and the roads had been cleaned and salted at last. It really was a fine Saturday. Lucy and Rupert had a lot of plans for Saturdays and a handful more for Sundays. The main one being together, the others... well, the others sometimes got forgotten in favour of some improvisation.
As each weekend since her boarding sentence started, Lucy sat down on the window-seat of her bedroom waiting for Rupert to appear, walking keenly, with his umbrella tapping the road.
She smiled when she saw him, carrying a basket in his other hand. Lucy took her coat and ran downstairs.
They ate the contents of the basket in the deserted swimming-pool hut. They hid there, their need to find Bubble Land imperative. At tea time they ate kisses and bites and flesh and the moon and the stars.
The bell calling the visitors startled them.
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