It was a cold misty Sunday night as Mrs.Withers, an old widowed woman living on her own, mother of three and grandmother of two was sitting in her rocking chair which was creaking as it went back and fourth staring at her open fire at the bright red and orange flames.
Her house was in the countryside, which she had lived in since her husband and her got married. As you gradually get closer to the house there are rows of trees making it very private. They have always got enough wood for the open fire. The front garden is full of exotic flowers and gargoyles. The long path through the middle of the garden is covered in small pebbles, which crunch together as you walk over them. There is a swing for the youngsters when they come to visit.
A draft was coming in from the window. She walked up to it and tried to pull it down but it was jammed. She tried once again and it came down quickly. She stared outside at such horrific weather. The wind was howling and the rain was bouncing off the windowsills. She was so mortified by the weather she shut the wooden slats. There was a loud bang at the door. Who could be calling at ten at night? She hurried over, undone the several locks to reveal her eldest daughter Elizabeth standing there in her best gown which was soaked through due to the rain. Elizabeth was always asking for assistance, that was the only time the middle aged married woman of two would come around. There was no change this time. Elizabeth begged and pleaded for her mother to look after her twins Holly and John for the night while herself and husband William spent some ‘quality time’ together. As always Mrs. Withers accepted the favour or she would have felt guilty. Elizabeth ran back to the carriage as Holly and John were jumping out of the carriage with their bedclothes on. They ran into the house and waved their parents off.
