Party Time (Meggie)


‘Party Time’

I just love a good party. Whether it’s a celebration of a child’s eight year on this earth, or a huge 200-and-something-filled disco, complete with every kind of amusement you can think of…

Despite what you’d think (me being a mini-celebrity and all) I don’t get much chance to actually hold a party; my life is filled with work, work, work. And so, I suppose that’s why I jumped at the chance to go to little Amy’s party, when Aidan suggested it to me. Now here we are.

The house that Aidan pulls his navy-blue-almost-black Opel car into the driveway of is a medium-sized townhouse, not too much on the fancy side, but with the right amount of ornaments scattered in the little green path of front garden, stuffed onto the window-sills, and climbing up the red-brick walls (though that is more the climbing Rose vine than an actual man-made ornament). I must say, though, the baby pink roses look so perfect, so pristine and pleasant, that I wouldn’t be surprised if they really are false. However, the Jonsons care for their family and they care for their home too. Maybe that statement is judging too soon.

I hear the ‘clip-clop’ of high heels and turn to see Rachel, my simple, but most loving, sister-to-be, running towards us, clasping her hands in happiness. She’s dressed in a long black polo-dress down to her calves with silver stitching creating mesmerising swirling patterns from the ends of her draping long sleeves up to the edge of the pointed collar.

You see, I tend to notice what people are wearing. Occupational hazard, I suppose.

“Oh, Meggie, it’s so nice to see you here. And Aidan, late as usual.”


I love the banter between my husband-to-be and my sister-to-be. They are both children at heart, unaware of the danger that I could be to their Holy family. Well, Rachel doesn’t know about my lineage...I don’t want to worry her.

Rachel embraces me and then gestures.

“You’d better come in. I’m sorry, but it’s a bit hectic in here at the moment.”

She leads us inside and then pokes her head up the open stairway.

“Amy, Uncle Aidan is here!”

I am aware of squeals, and then my adorable nephews- and nieces-to-be tumble down the stairs, their voices at the highest pitch possible for children of this age. I resist putting my hands over my ears. I guess I will have to get used to it.

I glance over at Aidan and raise my eyebrows. He loves this part of life: being an uncle, being responsible and being a teacher. Seeing as I took away the last passion from him, it just wasn’t in my nature (even with its evil tendencies) to take this joy away.

“Uncle Aidan!” the shrieks arrive and attach themselves to Aidan in a variety of four sizes of small. After a minute I receive the same treatment, grinning down at them as they yell:


“Hello,” Aidan and I both chortle at the same time, watching each other.

We’re so similar! We’re perfect for each other! Well, apart from the little matter of my Devil mother…

The End

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