I could hear my husband singing as he pottered in the kitchen.
Despite everything that was happening, or maybe because of it, the
sound of him brought a smile to my face. When I heard his “Boom
tish,” I couldn't help myself.
“Daft old bugger,” I giggled to myself, which caused Oak to
frown.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, “Is there something amusing you?”
“Oh don't mind me,” I replied, “It's just Edward chuntering in
the kitchen.”
“Chuntering?” he enquired, frown deepening.
“Yes, chuntering,” I told him, “You know, talking rubbish to
yourself.”
“That is not something I am familiar with,” he replied gravely.
“Why would one do such a thing?”
“Sometimes you can't stop yourself,” I said, “And sometimes
you're not even aware you're doing it.”
That's when we heard the thunder.
