Jill moved over to him and knelt at his feet. "Tom? Tom?" she repeated, whilst stroking his hair and gently holding on to him, so that he didn't fall off of the sofa.
Katie, thinking it was disgusting, said distastefully, "Euugghhh!"
"Katie!" Gordon exclaimed, "You can clean it up if you make that noise one more time!"
Katie looked sheepishly at her feet. Once seeing them, she realised to her horror, that her brother's vomit was scattered over her shoes.
"Euugghhh! Daddy, he's puked on my shoes!" she moaned.
"Katie! The cloth is in the drawer to the right of the sink, and there's a dustpan and brush beneath the sink," he said, making his displeasure clear.
"Awwww…. Daddy, why?" she whined again.
"Can one of you please fetch a bowl and for goodness sake stop arguing?" Jill stressed urgently.
Tom groaned and leant his head on Jill's shoulder.
"It's Ok love. Come on, let's get you to bed," she said, hugging him gently.
"I'll carry him up to bed," Gordon offered.
He staggered off upstairs with a limp Tom in his arms. He shouted back downstairs for Katie to hurry up with that bowl, whilst Jill was deciding what to do with the duster which Katie had put bleach on, thinking it would help their red carpet. After some thought, she decided it was probably better if it went in the bin. She didn't want Tom putting it in the fish tank, whilst he was sleep – walking. She doubted he would currently, since he was ill, but still, better to be safe than sorry. She looked up as Katie ran heavily down the stairs.
Jill picked up a cloth, as Katie looked distastefully at her brother's vomit again.
"Come over here, Katie," she requested, "We must get that vomit off of your shoes before it dries."
"You mean it could stay there?" Katie asked. She was very fond of her shoes; in fact she was fond of all 10 pairs of her shoes.
She was definitely turning into a shopaholic, Jill thought, just like her mother. She would have to make sure that Katie didn't find alcohol and gambling as enjoyable as well. She could cope with Katie loving shopping, that was normal for teenage girls, but she didn't want her stepdaughter heading the same self-destructing way as her late mother. She thought about this as she knelt down to wipe the sticky substance off of Katie's shoes.
"There!" she said after a minute. "I would suggest you take them off and leave them beneath the radiator to let them dry."
Katie undid the straps of her now clean, shiny, black shoes, carefully avoiding the area, which had previously been a mild shade of green. Deftly, she removed her feet and carefully placed them beneath their clanking radiator.
"Have you still not done anything about that radiator?" she demanded of Gordon, who was creeping down the stairs, trying not to wake his sleeping son.
"The plumber said that he'd get back to me when he'd finished his current job," he protested.
"I dread to think what could happen if it's left any longer," she worriedly replied.
"Jill, I really think we should call Jeff to take a look at Tom. We can't treat him, as we are too emotionally involved, and we have Katie to consider," he put to her, glaring at their radiator, which considered now to be perfect timing to clank even louder.
"How is he?" she asked.
"He's not well at all. I think it could be serious, Jill," he whispered, so that Katie couldn't hear.
Katie looked from one of her parents to the other, trying to catch a hint of what might be happening and why they were looking so serious.
"Daddy, what's wrong with Tom?" she questioned quietly.
Gordon moved towards her and knelt down, so that he was talking to her at her height. "We don't know Katie," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, "That's why we're going to call Dr Goodwin. He will find out for us," he said giving her a watery smile.
"Why can't you or Jill find out?" she asked.
"It's best that Dr Goodwin treats him, as he is his GP," he answered, trying to bypass the question. But Katie wasn't at Grammar school for any reason. She knew that he hadn't answered her question directly, deliberately. She tried again.
"Daddy, why can't you or Jill treat him?" she repeated.
"Dr Goodwin's a good doctor Katie. He'll make sure that Tom's all right," he answered; again trying to avoid answering the question directly.
"Daddy, why are you lying to me? Why won't you tell me the truth? No one ever tells me anything. You still won't tell me why people at St Cecilia's gave me foul looks and called me names! I moved schools for a reason and that reason had something to do with you and Eva Jason! I am not stupid. I can see the way people look at you in the street. But still no one has told me anything!" she cried, storming up to her bedroom in tears. SLAM!