Title: Growing Up
Fandom: Foyle's War
Characters: Samantha Stewart. Rev. and Mrs. Stewart.
Word Count: 575
Summary: "Maybe, she thinks, she doesn't need to be a grown up today."
It's about to rain. The little girl can tell, from the way the wind blows her blond curls around her face, from the dark clouds overhead, from the rumbling in the distance that sound as though the world is about to end. Sometimes she imagines it, the end of the world. Starting with the rumbling in the distance which is really, she thinks, a huge hole in the ocean, sucking all the land down, down, down like a whirlpool. What a shame it would be if the world ended before she grows up.
She can hear someone calling for her now, but she doesn't answer. She's in the barn, curled in the loft with a litter of kittens by her side and a barrel of apples nearby. From here she can watch the storm without being touched by it. Mummy and Daddy don't think she's old enough to be on her own, they think she needs them around to take care of her. And sometimes she does.
Sometimes though, it's fun to do things by herself. To be grown up, even if just for a moment.
"Samantha, come into the house!" Her mother's voice echoes around the yard. The girl lies back in the hay, thinking that if she stays away from the open loft door, no one will find her. She will be able to hide. She likes visiting her Aunt and Uncle on the farm; there are more places to hide here than at the manse. Her mother knows all her hiding spots at home, but not here.
She knows she scares Mummy and Daddy sometimes, when they can't find her. If she had a brother or sister, she would have someone else to play with and she's sure they would find her, but she's six now and there is still no baby and Mummy says there won't ever be. So she plays by herself, imaging that someone is seeking her while she's hiding. Or sometimes she pretends she is being chased by a group of thieves that she saw break into a bank and who now want to kidnap her so that she won't go to the police. She thinks of really clever hiding spots then. The bell waiter is her favourite one, although she has to make extra certain that Mummy doesn't find her there. She did once and that meant no dessert for a week.
"Sam! Where are you?" Her father is calling now, standing on the back step of the house and the girl feels a little guilty, as she sneaks a glance at him, for the worried look on his face. Her mother stands next to her father, arms wrapped around herself, brows furrowed. She can't hear what her parents say to each other then, but she knows they're talking about her, and she knows they're worried. Maybe, she thinks, she doesn't need to be a grown up today. She climbs down the ladder and rushes across the yard, just as the rain starts down. Her mother catches her around the waist and lifts her up, crushing her, kissing her.
"Oh sweetheart!" Her mother sighs into her ear as they step back into the house.
"You little imp." Her father murmurs, winking at her before reaching out a hand and tousling her hair fondly.
Now the girl understands. Her parents aren't worried about how she would live without them; they're worried about how they would live without her.