Turning his key in the lock he knew the house would be silent, the kitchen empty. Sure enough the kitchen was chilled and dark, the glow of the fire barely visible as the clock softly chimed midnight. Reaching up he struck a match and held it to the gas mantle until the gentle hiss exploded into life filling the kitchen with an eerie light. On the table was a half-eaten pie, it’s filling congealed and cold. Charlie scooped out a handful and pushed it greedily into his mouth. His stomach rumbled for more and he grinned to himself realising that he had been far to occupied to consider his supper before. Annie could always quench his carnal needs, but she wasn’t a patch on Mary when it came to cooking. Turning off the gas light he climbed the stairs to bed.
Emma Hardwick
