"YOU THINK YOU'RE DAD BUT YOU'RE NOT!" Edmund bellowed and stomped out of the room.
"Well that was nicely handled," he heard Susan's voice echo. He felt relieved that Susan was standing up for him and he heard her footsteps follow him. He was determined not to stop.
"Ed!" she cried, increasing her pace trying to catch up with him, "Ed, stop!" She gripped his wrist but he threw her off and closed the door of the boy's bedroom in her face. Livid, she was about to shout but she calmed herself and recited her alphabet to calm her down. She knocked sharply on the door.
"Go away," Edmund's muffled voice sounded from inside. Ignoring his request she opened the door and stepped inside. The room smelt significantly like boy. The musty smell that boys have about them of smelly socks and unwashed underwear. Susan agreed with herself that it was more likely to be Edmund than Peter.
She sat down on the bed next to Edmund who had flung himself on his bed, his face muffled into his pillow.
"Ed," she whispered, stroking his hair.
"What?" he sniffed, trying to hide the fact he was crying.
"Are you okay?" she asked and Edmund shifted uncomfortably beside her.
"No," he admitted after a long pause.
"Come here," she tugged at his jumper, "Come here," she urged him. Slowly he sat up and crossed his legs on the bed. He leant forward into her open arms and snuggled into her chest. He clung onto the neck of his shirt like a baby and she soothingly brushed the hair away from his forehead. She planted a gentle kiss just above his eye and released him.
"Peter is just trying to look out for us," Susan explained, "sometimes he gets out of hand and he needs reminding that he is not father. Shouting at him is not the best way to handle it; I will try to explain to him where he is going wrong Edmund," He nodded in understanding, "We all miss father, we all miss mother and we'll be home soon," she smiled, cradling his face. She leant in and kissed his cheek, as she pulled away they lingered for a moment, breathing heavily.
What they didn't notice was Peter peering through the crack in the door, his fists clenched and knuckles turning white.