'What a beautiful wedding, what a beautiful wedding. Says the bridesmaid to a waiter, yes but what a shame, what a shame, the poor groom's bride is a whore. I chime in with haven't you people ever heard of, closing the goddamn door.'

'Delilah, language.' A voice calls into the bedroom, opening the slightly ajar door, so that she is faced with her child lying on the bed, holding up her tablet, with the cat laid next to her. It's the little details in the picture that reminds her that Delilah is still a child. It's the cat curled up next to her, looking very content. It's the clothes she's got hung up, the teddy bear she swears to her friends she doesn't sleep with, but her mum knows differently, that she can't sleep without it.

She'd fiercely deny it to anyone, including her mum, but when she goes in to tuck her in before she goes to bed, the child is snuggled up with the bear. Just like she did when she was little.

'What?'

'What have we told you about this.'

'What?' The eleven-year-old grumbles at her mother, 'a whore is a description word.'

'It's also very rude. And it's descriptive word.' She's reprimanded. 'You need to drop the attitude.' She sighs dramatically, shutting the door in her mother's face. Carla knows she should challenge her on this attitude, but she just can't be bothered. It's too much effort, her child's latest phase.

'Mum.' The girl calls out, moments later, feeling sheepish.

'Hmm?'

'Can I have a chocolate biscuit?'

'No, your tea is nearly ready.' She groans, as Carla shrugs. 'As you're so hungry I'm expecting you to eat all of it.'

'Mum.' She groans, propping herself up.

'Have you got your uniform?'

'Uniform?'

'For school.'

'I don't start for another two days.'

'And I need to wash and iron it, make sure you have everything.'

'You washed it when we brought it.' She groans, 'you don't need to wash it that much.' Carla shakes her head, knowing that Delilah would never understand, or she hoped her daughter would never understand, not having anything, being embarrassed because her mum couldn't be bothered or spent money on other things, so they didn't have the money to clean her clothes. She was a disgrace and that's what she never wants her daughter to feel like.

'Well I'm washing that and your PE kit. Do you have your dance things?'

'Why?'

'Because you need to wash them, actually, scrap that. Get me all your dirty washing.' The girl sighs dramatically, flouncing off her bed. 'There you go, good girl. Not so hard, was it?'

'You made me wake up Cadbury.'

'Sorry baby.' She grins at the cat, who is just staring at her. 'Don't look at me like that, baby. I need to wash her clothes, that reminds me, I need to wash your bed too, hmm. Not with D's stuff, but it needs washing all the same.'

'Mum, you're so weird.'

'Just bring your washing down, it takes two minutes.' The girl lets out a groan, going over to the washing basket.

-CS-

'When did our little girl become a teenager?' Carla sighs to her partner, sorting out her daughters washing, looking out the window at the pink sunset, smiling slightly. She likes the sunsets, they're pretty.

'She's just eleven, Carla. We have two years.'

'No, the attitude she gave me today, Peter. I'm not up for my baby girl talking to me like that.'

'Carla, I'm sure it's just nerves. Anyway, with any luck we won't have the attitude, even if she is your daughter.'

'For what?'

'School. Look, she'll give it the big I am, but she's just a scared little girl. She's nervous.'

'You don't think it's something more?'

'No, I don't. She's worried about school and she's kicking out. Si was the same.'

'But she'd not Si. She's different.'

'Exactly, but when a kids nervous, they're going to hit out, aren't they? She'll be okay.' He promises, 'she'll be okay.'

'What if she hates it?'

'School?'

'Yeah.'

'She's got her friends there.' He reminds her gently, going around to hug her. 'She's going to be perfectly fine. I just know it.'

'You don't.'

'I do.'

'Why?'

'Because I'm her dad.'

-CS-

'You know everything is going to be fine.' The older woman starts, as the girl hauls her onto the sofa, with a yawn. 'I know it's a big change, but everyone is in the same position as you. Everyone is going to be nervous today, worrying that they don't have everything or that they won't know anyone. I know you're worried the work will be too hard and you won't be able to keep up, but you have us and we'll help you out best we can.'

'How'd you know?'

'Because I'm your mum, that won't change. Remember, I'm always there for you. I know it's hard, but I promise your dad and I are here to help you. You have to trust me when I say that you will be fine.'

'I love you mum.' She whispers, edging closer to the woman, as she hears her dad singing in the kitchen.

'I love you too baby, I promise you're going to be fine.' She nods, as her dad comes in, with the plate of toast for her, and a mug of coffee for her mother.'

'You'll be fine.' He promises, trying to pretend that he hadn't been listening to his partners pep talk. 'Now, eat that toast and your uniform is handing up on the back of the door, and your PE kit is next to your school bag.'

-CS-

'Do you think she'll be okay?' Carla whispers, as she watches her daughter enter the school gates, in the crowd of parents. 'She looks so small and all these sixth formers look so big.'

'She'll be fine, we both felt like this, when she started primary school, what's the difference?'

'When she finishes here, she'll be an adult. Or near enough, if she leaves after her GCSE's.'

'Carla.' He whispers, looking around to see if anyone is listening. They aren't, there is waves of parents saying goodbye to their children, just like them. All absorbed in their own world, some are crying, others aren't. He'd wondered if his partner would cry, but she didn't.

Thank goodness.

He'd told her not too, that would just embarrass the child and she'd feel uncomfortable. It was all about her feeling okay. That's all that mattered.

'Everyone here, they're in exactly the same position, all worried about their children. But she will be fine, she's got your tenacity and she doesn't take any crap.' He promises, 'she could eat them alive.'

'She's eleven.'

'You know what I mean. She is all you. She is going to be fine.'

A/N thoughts? It's been a while and I've missed Delilah…

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