Chapter Text
“Children who aren’t sitting at the table in two minutes will miss hot flapjacks!”
Susan wakes to the sound of her children tumbling down the stairs. She blinks, disoriented, at the sun that floods the sitting room. She wipes her mouth and sits up, wincing as her neck protests a night spent slumped in Timothy’s chair by the radiator.
She follows voices into the kitchen and finds Sam at the stove.
“I’m terribly sorry, I --” she begins.
“Mr. Foyle and I got back terribly late,” Sam waves away the apology. “You’d fallen asleep or I would’ve --” she falters. “Woken you.”