Lucy hesitated, the desire to accede to her gran's wishes and her desire to eat the biscuit conflicting and forcing her into indecision. She compromised by stuffing as much as she could into her mouth then using the leg rails as a ladder to climb to the seat.
Legion jerked into motion. “Hello, dear. What's your name?”
Her mouth still full, Lucy did her best to be polite.“Lfy.”
Harold waited long enough to make sure she was safely ensconced then pulled out the end chair and took a seat himself. He almost clicked his fingers for Devious until he remembered the imp wouldn't come anywhere near Legion. He sighed and rose again. “Can I make anyone a drink? Mum? Legion?”
“No thank you, dear.” Ada flashed him a smile. “We've still got ours.”
“What about you, Uncle?”
“No, I'm fine, lad. Thanks for the offer, though. Not that I could drink it.”
“Okay.” Harold checked the level of water in the kettle and, satisfied there was enough for half a pot, switched it on. He took a glass from the counter, rinsed it under the tap, then opened the fridge. He sniffed cautiously at the milk, then filled the glass and put it next to Lucy. She gave him a hamster-cheek smile and he pushed the plate of biscuits within her reach. With all the exercise she'd had today she deserved a treat.
He leaned back against the worktop, trying not to look at the section of floor where Julies body had recently lain and grateful to Molly for scrubbing away the chalk outline. “So, what's everybody been up to?”