“Surely they should make their own lunch if you’re doing all this.” Mike quizzed.
“Yeah… it’d be nice if they lifted a finger, but they don’t.” Charles grumbled.
“Shall I wait here?” Mike asked as Charles headed to his sister’s rooms.
“You can put the kettle on.” Charles suggested. Mike watched Charlie trot into the hallway. The bow on the back of his pinny floated behind him and his heels clacked loudly against the tiled floor. Charles paused briefly in front of the hallway mirror and checked his bow, adjusting it slightly before trotting up the stairs. Mike stepped over to the sink and paid particular attention to the sound his own heeled shoes make… there’s no way to walk quietly in them.