"A Pleasant Sort Of Day"
Diane Harwood turned around the bend, almost tripping over a large rock, and looked up to see four young people playing on a massive front lawn. They were playing a game of croquet(well, the two girls were. The two boys were busy looking disgusted at the girls, so they decided to climb a big willow tree.).
Diane opened her mouth to call to them, but she was interrupted. The youngest girl shouted out gleefully, "There, Susan! You think you're so much better than I am!", and looked immensely pleased with herself.
The young girl turned her brown head, and caught Diane's eye. "Hello," she shouted. "It's a pleasant sort of day, isn't it? Would you like to join us?" Diane smiled and nodded, climbing carefully up the steep lawn. She spotted the boys hanging upside down on the thickest branch of the willow treet. The youngest boy pulled a funny face at her. She laughed.
"You'd better watch that," she teased. "Or it just may stay that way." The boy groaned, turning to the oldest boy. "She sounds like Mum. What's your name?" he asked, while continuing to swing from his dirty knees.
"Diane Harwood. I live around the bend. I didn't think the Professor had any grandchildren."
The boy shook his head. "No, he doesn't. We're just staying to be safe from the war. But the Professor is a right nice fellow, I suppose. He stretched out his arm to shake Diane's hand, and she was amazed he didn't fall out of the tree.
"My name's Edmund Pevensie. This is my big brother, Peter," he pointed to the boy grinning next to him. "And those are my sisters," he continued, pointing to the croquet-playing girls. "The oldest is Susan, and the youngest is Lucy. It's jolly good there's someone else our age around to play with!"
Edmund's speech finish by his swinging one last time, flipping backwards, and landing at Diane's feet. His face was bright red and dirty. "How old are you?" he asked.
"Fourteen," Diane replied, watching Peter still hanging like a monkey above her. He was now whistling a fine melody. Edmund made a face.
"I'm almost twelve," he said in a bit of a disgusted voice. "Peter's fourteen too."
"I'm nine," Lucy offered. "And Susan's thirteen."
Diane gave them all a great smile. "It's lovely to meet all of you."