I had decided to spend the day in bed. Aunt Dahlia could do it, so why couldn't I? It was one year ago that Mother had died. I didn't want any breakfast, not even tea. Instead I pulled the duvet up to my chin and pulled my knees to my chest.
"Bertie, you young blot, what are you still doing in bed?" came the barking voice of Aunt Dahlia.
I glared at her from my position on the bed but refused to vocally comment. I saw a cross look passed over her features. And then the most amazing thing happened.
Aunt Dahlia crawled right into bed with me. She pulled on the bell for Seppings to serve us in bed. And when Angela came looking for me, Aunt Dahlia pulled her in with us.