"Lucy!" Quarture of an hour later Hope sat down, her arms read from washing the dishes, but grinning. Five minutes later, after few loud words coming from the kitchen, Hope came back in, her normally perfect eyes, were now slightly smudged from wet tears. John could see that. After she had told him, he was silent.
A shout a crash and then a clatter. "Yes" a muffled voice answered, Hope hopped down the stairs.
"Where's my grey hoodie?"
A moaned cry, then "It's in the bathroom"
A pause, "Why would it be in the bathroom?" a perplexed shout replied.
"I don't know, do I"
A huff before a stomping of feet back up the stairs towards the bathroom.
"Oh Hope" a starteled croaky man said, jumping up near the bathroom door.
"Yes?" Hope laughed, turning into the room where her hoodie was.
"Um, I was just wondering why are you going in there?" why did John always have to be questioning these days.
"I'm getting my hoodie" Hope said nodding towards the hoodie that layed across the bath.
"Um, I'll go and get it"
"Um, cause I'm working in there"
Hope couldn't help herself she burst out laughing. "You have no idea what that just sounded like to my ears"
"What" John said, acting hurt.
"It just sounded like" Hope was cut short by a shout from downstairs,
"Come and help me with the washing up"
"Sure" it had been eleven long years since that day, the day when she knew everything, and ever since Lucy and Hope had been washing up at the particular time. They had continued the tradition.
"John, can I have my hoodie?"
"Yeah, of course" John went in and handed Hope her hoodie, she shuved it on and ran downstairs for the compulsive washing up time.
"So did you have a good time?" John asked. What was up with him today, he was everywhere, but still it was funny, and Hope laughed.
"Yes thank you" she said a smile being painted on her face that grew wider every second, "It was good, like every Washing up time"
John paused, wavering on the fact to ask her something, Hope was good with that, she seemed to be able to read peoples expressions better than anybody else in the house at least.
"Yes?" Hope decided to say.
"Well, I was wondering"
"Yes" Hope incouraged.
"Why does washing up mean so much to you?"
Of course he didn't know. Both Lucy and Hope had thought long and hard and in the end decided that the best thing to do was not to tell anybody else what they knew. It would of been to hard to talk about it at that time anyway. Even though washing up time was happy now, before, in the past, it was a time of rememberence.
"You really want to know?" Hope asked, hoping the question would be no, like it always was when somebody piped in to ask the same question.
Hope saw him ponder on the words, but after a few minutes he whispered.
"Wait one second" and walked out of the room.
"I just talked to Lucy, we knew we would have to tell you this at some point anyway" then under her breath, said "unfortunatly"
And so she told him the story of her childhood. Her so called mother, and her imagined father. Of how she came to be here, and how she came to have to be hidden, specially when the Gatheres came anually.
He was also pale. But when he spoke he was perfectly composed.
"And this is what you have been keeping secret?"
"Yes" Hope whispered, wishing on her life that she had kept quiet, it would of been so much easier not of said and come up with a excuse like Lucy had suggested. But no, she had to ease her concience and tell the truth.
"You didn't even think it seemed necessary to tell me?"
Hope was quiet for some time, then after forcing herself to speak. Muttered.
"It was to hard to"
John nodded, seeming to understand.
Hope smiled, "Anyway, I know you're keeping a secret from me"
John looked puzzled, and looked at her questioningly."What do you mean?"
Of course his voice gave it away, like it always did.
"You're keeping something from me too" Hope laughed.
John shook his head, "I'm not telling you anything, you didn't tell me your secret for eleven years, why should I tell you what it is before I've even finished?" and with that he walked out of the room, just quick enough for Hope not to of punched his arm like she always did when he teased her.
Quarture of an hour later Hope sat down, her arms read from washing the dishes, but grinning.
Five minutes later, after few loud words coming from the kitchen, Hope came back in, her normally perfect eyes, were now slightly smudged from wet tears. John could see that.
After she had told him, he was silent.