YESTERDAY’S NEAR-MISS — A Family on Edge

The morning erupted into chaos before anyone had a chance to catch their breath. Cain’s voice rang through the house, barking at Kyle and Isaac, demanding to know if they’d slept well. He had, apparently — like a baby. But the calm didn’t last. The toilet was clogged again, and someone needed it. Urgently.

Then came the first blow. Kyle’s hoodie. Missing. Cain had “lost it.” The excuse landed like a slap. Come on, we’re not made of money. The words hung in the air — a warning that resources were thin and patience thinner.

The conversation shifted to Matty. Had he said anything about more fires? The news was quiet, mercifully. Yesterday’s near-miss might have done its job — maybe, just maybe, it had scared the arsonist off. But the relief was brittle, fragile. No one truly believed it was over.

School. The word dropped like a stone. Kyle wanted to know if someone would pick him up, if they were still getting that distributor cap for the car. But Cain’s answer was brutal in its finality: any money was going toward a new hoodie. You lose it, you pay for it. Kyle’s protests were met with stone. A promise broken on both sides, and the argument slammed shut like a door.

Isaac was taking forever. When he finally emerged, he nearly gave someone a heart attack — creeping around like a ninja. His mission: locate the arsonist. Any luck? No. Not when some oblivious family was having a picnic ten feet away, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking nearby. Isaac’s traps were in place, and no one — not even a well-meaning fool — was to touch them.

Then Eric arrived, announcing the obvious: the teenager was next door, a whirlwind of hunger and chaos. He’d been there one day and already devoured half the fridge. The suggestion came — darkly humorous, half-serious — to stick him in a tent. But the answer was firm. Jai was coming home, and his son wouldn’t be found frozen to death. It’s nearly summer. It’s Yorkshire, Eric. The cold doesn’t care about seasons.

A heavy sigh broke the tension. They were going to be late. Someone hadn’t slept well — the first night alone without a father, the first night since Grandad died. The confession cracked something open. An embrace followed, soft and warm. A note for the teachers, blame me, get a sandwich, you’ll be fine. But the school dinner budget was a problem. No money from Dad? Cor. A twenty would have to cover what thirty couldn’t — cheese swirls and rice pudding, apparently. Ridiculous prices. But it would have to do.

A cupboard needed fixing. Knock yourself out. Quite literally if you want. Might make my day a bit better. The joke was dark, but the exhaustion behind it was darker.

Then — yesterday. The subject no one wanted to touch. Please, can we just not talk about that? Embarrassment met with a hollow joke. Loads of women throw themselves at me. How reassuring. The phone rang — saved by the bell, or rather, saved by the ringtone.

And then the confession that broke through the noise. Lydia — alone, doomed to an attic full of cheap polyester cardigans and cats that would, eventually, eat her. Cats don’t eat humans. They do. I’ve searched it. A joke, maybe. Or maybe not. The loneliness in her voice was real. She wanted someone to spend the rest of her life with. Someone like Sam. But clichés wouldn’t cut it. A punchbag was next on the shopping list, and it would have Ross’s face plastered all over it.

Ross. The name slipped out, and was swallowed just as fast. Pretend I didn’t say anything.

The blocked caravan toilet revealed something unspeakable. You know that’s not mine. The denial was met with dry humor. I’m more of a My Little Pony kind of guy. The mess was sorted, but the damage was done.

Then — Kyle. Spotted hiding in plain sight. Sorry. Sorry doesn’t cut it. Had he been to school? No. He wanted to work on the car. Skiving, they called it. Well, it didn’t do me any harm. The irony was lost on no one.

The confrontation escalated. Help was being offered, but Kyle didn’t want it. I don’t need you butting in. Back off. Someone was trying to help him — for reasons no one could quite fathom. His bag was