Hi guys! Long time no see, huh? I feel like I haven't uploaded anything in ages... which I haven't. This is my NaNoWriMo story, which I'm currently in the process of editing/rewriting. I hope you like it!

Dedicated to Defend because the title was her idea.

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             There were only three people in the kitchen, but still I felt suffocated.

            Saying this, the head count did kind of depend on whether you counted Nora as a single person; as she leaned back in her chair, stomach jutting out alarmingly over her jeans, this was certainly debatable. Hitting the eighth month of pregnancy seemed to have triggered a growth spurt for my sister’s unborn baby, as if it had suddenly realised it better get a move on if it had any hope of being born normal-sized. Nowadays, she looked as if she’d swallowed a beach ball, and most people had taken to eyeing her with a constant wariness, extremely aware of the risk of her popping at any moment.

            The abundance of clutter in Gram’s tiny kitchen wasn’t exactly helping matters. Recipe books were stacked in the most random places – on top of the microwave, in the gap between the fridge and the worktop, even a couple functioning as a doorstop – which made no sense at all. Gram was what you might call an experimental chef; she relied more on her own instinct than printed instructions. Usually, this meant throwing odd combinations of ingredients together and hoping for the best.

            And, as if that wasn’t enough, she seemed to harbour a strange fetish for post-it notes. Masses were stuck all over the kitchen, most of them concentrated onto the fridge door, but the words scrawled across them were barely legible. I was in the middle of trying to work out what egg red oon meant when I noticed Gram had placed a steaming mug right under my nose.

            Tea. Clearly, she’d not only missed the morning forecast that said we were in for highs of twenty-five, but had also failed to look out of the window and notice the sun shining over the town of Walden-on-Sea.

            “Isn’t this exciting?”

            Looking up, I caught sight of Nora smiling wildly at the both of us. Her grin stretched so far across her face I thought it might split it clean in half; she seemed to be having trouble controlling her glee.

            On the contrary, there was no danger of me having the same problem.

            “I just can’t believe it’s finally happening, you know? Lenny and I getting our own place, Flo coming to live right by the sea! Won’t it be lovely? Everything’s just turning out to be so perfect.”

            Perfect was not the word I would’ve used to describe the situation, but I wasn’t about to ruin Nora’s good mood. Besides, I knew all too well that her crazy hormones could have that covered in three seconds flat. I’d spent the whole journey here listening to her nonstop chatter – detailing how wonderful it was going to be, how lucky I was to be able to step right out of the house and onto the beach, what colours she and Lenny were going to paint the baby’s nursery (leaf green was looking their best option at the moment). The problem was I just didn’t share her enthusiasm. I felt bad, really I did, but I just couldn’t bring myself to be excited about the prospect of relocating from busy north London to the spectacularly boring seaside town of Walden-on-Sea to live with my grandmother.

            It all started somewhere around the start of Nora’s second trimester – a point at which she’d suddenly decided it’d be a good idea to sell the cosy London flat we’d shared forever and shack up with her hippie boyfriend Lenny.

            Lenny, a guy who liked to refer to himself as an ‘eco-warrior’ was, hands down, the most bonkers person I knew. Long straggly hair – which was known to sometimes not see shampoo for weeks at a time – and a fashion sense only to be described as eccentric made up his normal appearance, while his time was divided between spending time with Nora and handing out flyers in the shopping centre to promote his world peace campaign.

            A campaign which, I had to add, didn’t seem to have achieved much more peace than putting Lenny on good terms with his downstairs neighbour.

            He wasn’t exactly most girls’ dream guy, but then when was Nora ever like most girls? I didn’t know what my older sister saw in him, but it had to be something. And something was enough to turn her into a total convert; before long, she’d gone full-on hippie, braiding her hair, recycling like a madwoman and obsessively checking the label of any non-organic item that found its way into our house.

            She was in love.

            And, shortly afterwards, knocked up.

            I wouldn’t have minded so much if we’d been able to stay put. Sure, a newborn baby would’ve been an inconvenience, but I could brace myself for the loss of a few hours’ sleep. Though it wouldn’t have made for the greatest living arrangement, I could’ve coped. But instead, Nora decided the only way she could give her baby the so-called ‘stable family environment’ it needed was to move into Lenny’s flat.

            And with no parents to speak of, where did that leave me?

            The sleepy seaside town on the south coast, known as Walden-on-Sea, with a population of eighty per cent pensioners and one hundred per cent nutters. Home to my grandmother, who’d bought a cottage there ten years ago.

            “Don’t you think so, Flo?”

            My head snapped upwards, an automatic reaction at the mention of my name. “What?”

            “You can just smell that sea air, can’t you?” She inhaled exaggeratedly, even though the kitchen windows were closed. “Bet it could cure anything. I’d probably consider moving down here myself if it wasn’t for Lenny’s job and all.”

            I wasn’t sure occasionally using the 100 for a pound deal at the print shop to churn out a few flyers counted as a job, but I kept quiet.

            “Yeah,” I said instead, “what a shame.”

            Glancing back down at my mug, a closer inspection revealed it wasn’t just tea at all, but instead some strange herbal concoction with a strange smell. Across the table, Nora had already started on hers – and by the looks of things, she was actually enjoying it. Knocking the drink back like water, she seemed relatively unconcerned by its questionable odour. Barely two minutes had passed before her mug hit the table again, and she looked over at Gram. “You haven’t got any more of this stuff, have you?”

            “Plenty,” Gram answered, her worn slippers shuffling on the linoleum as she scuttled over to the kettle. “Do you want any more, Flo?”

            “Oh, um…” My eyes shifted guiltily downward. “I’m okay for now, thanks.”

            Really, I should’ve been used to Nora’s erratic cravings; they were here, there and everywhere as often as her mood. Just the other week I’d caught her in the kitchen at three a.m., poised to have a twenty-jar order of blueberry jam shipped to our door, special delivery. It was only luck that I’d been able to get to the laptop in the nick of time and cancel the order.

            “But I love blueberry!” she’d protested.

            She’s allergic to blueberry.

            “So, have you girls seen the town yet?” Gram asked. Her tone was bright, much like the outdoor sunshine, but I knew that the term ‘town’ was being used in its loosest sense. Walden-on-Sea was nothing more than a tiny village, adored by tourists for its quaint atmosphere and dinky little shops. It was one of the reasons Gram had been so drawn to it in the first place. My gaze swept over her – across the tight ringlet curls she swore were all natural, the pearly lipstick that wasn’t quite neat at the edges, the thick lenses that made her eyes look slightly disproportionate. She was unchanged from the last couple of times we’d seen her. Still the same Gram. Maybe that was partly why I felt so apprehensive about moving in.

            Before I’d even opened my mouth to speak, Nora cut in. “Not really. Only what we saw on the way down here.”

            “Oh, it’s beautiful. You’re going to love it, Flo.”

            She was looking at me now, the attention momentarily migrating away from Nora. I knew she could sense my lack of enthusiasm – anybody with half a brain could – but even for Gram, I couldn’t pretend I was happy about moving away from London. It’d been home my entire life; I couldn’t imagine living in a place where heavy passing vehicles didn’t make the windows hum all hours of the day. Here, the faint calling of seagulls overhead seemed likely the only disturbance.

            “Here’s an idea – why don’t you girls go and have a look around? Get to know the place a little bit. It’s got a really great charm if you just give it a chance.” She looked out into the hallway where my two unopened suitcases sat. “I’ve got to sort the spare room out before you can move in, so you might as well.”

            “Sounds great!”

            Though the scraping of Nora’s chair was almost instant, rising to her feet took considerably longer. She gripped the side of the table for support, tongue sticking out in concentration, finally managing to haul herself upwards. Physical exhaustion seemed to follow the ordeal, and she blew a strand of wavy blonde hair from her face. “Let’s go.”

            I couldn’t delay it any longer. Bringing the mug to my lips, I braced myself and took a swig. It was as bad as I expected: some foul-tasting herbal mix that could only be stomached with a hearty dose of pregnancy hormones. Trying my best not to splutter, I discreetly tipped the rest into the sink and hoped Gram had other types of teabag in her cupboard.

            As it turned out, exploring the wonders of Walden-on-Sea took all of fifteen minutes. I knew the place was small, but I didn’t realise just how tiny. It almost reminded me of that miniature town at Legoland, where everything was both reduced dramatically in size and oddly colourful. Even just passing through, I could sense the close-knit community; everyone and their dogs seemed to know each other, smiling like everybody was their oldest friend. In a way, it was nice, but my inner pessimist couldn’t help but wonder how kindly they’d take to outsiders.

            We trekked up the stony beach toward the rickety pier, but all that lay at the end was a set of ancient amusements that looked as if they’d been at their prime sometime in the eighties. The seafront housed a disappointing parade of shops, each painted a different shade of pastel, but none of them caught our interest either. Unless you happened to be looking for a laundrette, twenty-four-hour minimart or a fish ‘n’ chip shop, the shopping facilities of Walden-on-Sea were significantly lacking.

            One that we did stop in front of, however, was a small whitewashed building sandwiched between a dinky little gift shop and the laundrette. Or rather Nora stopped, peering right into its window, which sort of blocked the entire path and left me with not much choice but to do the same.

            “Look at that!” she exclaimed, pointing at a canvas which stood on an easel at the front of the display. It was a landscape, an intricate oil painting so delicate it showed almost every pebble of Walden-on-Sea’s beach. “Isn’t that one amazing? It looks just like a photo!”

            Murmuring an agreement, my gaze trailed upwards to the shop sign – Walden Arts, it read, amateur art gallery. The painting in question was surrounded by a whole host of others making up a window display, an array that stretched from self-portraits to charcoal sketches to a sculpture made of a peculiar prickly wire. It looked somewhat like a dog, but I couldn’t be sure.

            “You know, your stuff should be in here too. Those sketches you keep in your bedroom are way better than some of this lot.”

            I shook my head vehemently, although I could feel myself glowing a little from the compliment. It didn’t matter that it was from my sister: the most biased opinion I could get. “They’re really not,” I said. “And plus, I couldn’t handle them being on show for everyone. It’s bad enough you snooping through them in my room.”

            “Maybe you shouldn’t leave them lying around.”

            “They were in my sketchbook!” I said. “Which I keep under my bed!”

            Nora merely waved her hand dismissively. “Seriously, Flo,” she began, turning to me with a rare undertone of sincerity to her expression, “you’re talented. You could really get somewhere if you showed your work to other people. Nobody’s going to see it underneath your bed.”

            “I don’t want to.”

            It was true. To me, drawing was private: my personal equivalent of a diary. Nora only saw the end result because she was nosy, but that I could deal with. She was my closest friend, the only person I fully trusted. It hadn’t always been that way, but out of the accident had sprung an intangible bond, pulling us closer together. Our relationship went well beyond the regular sisterly connection; in the past three years, she’d become two parents and an older sister, all rolled into one. Secrets were nonexistent between us.

            And now we were being separated. Voluntarily.

            I didn’t know whether that made it better or worse.

            “You are okay with this, though, aren’t you?” Nora said, breaking me from my thoughts. “Moving down here with Gram, I mean. You’d tell me if you were really worried about it, wouldn’t you?”

            “Of course,” I said immediately. I didn’t even need to think about my response; it was automatic, the same way it had been every other time she’d asked over the past few months. “I’m fine.”

            Because how on earth was I supposed to tell Nora, who was on the brink of starting her new life and over the moon about it, anything different? She was moving in with Lenny, having the first child of the big family she’d dreamed of since she was a little girl. I couldn’t stand in the way, just for the sake of staying in familiar surroundings, where I’d gained more stability than I’d ever thought possible after the accident.

            She’d given up three years of her life to take care of me; I couldn’t ask for more.

            “Honestly, Flo, all it’ll take is a bit of time and you’ll love it here,” she assured me. “I know it’ll be strange at first, but you’ll get used to it. We both will.”

            I forced myself to nod. “I know.”

            Part of me worried the conversation would continue, but it didn’t need to. Within moments, Nora’s attention had been diverted elsewhere: a location further along the street we were standing on. “Now, come on,” she said, tugging at my arm. “I’m starving, and I think I saw an ice cream shop further down the road.”

            I sighed. “Nora, I’m really not that hungry...”

            Looking back at me, she shook her head, determined not to take no for an answer. “Uh-uh. Ice cream makes everything better, and you, my friend, are in dire need of a double scoop.”

            She was right, of course. She always was. So I didn’t pull away from the grip she had on my wrist, instead letting her drag me up the street, her insistent tugging something for me to follow as we headed toward the ice cream shop.

            The ice cream shop that, although I didn’t know it yet, was going to change my life.

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So originally, this was only half of the first chapter. But it was like 4,000 words long so I chopped it in half. What do you think? Drop me a comment and let me know, it'd make my day! I'll also be dedicating chapters to random commenters :-)

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy what's to come of the story!