‘Don’t touch those. Sharp.’
He can’t cut the cheese without a knife. There’s cereal, but the cupboard is too high up. He can reach the bread, but it’s mouldy. There are cans of soup in the cupboard. The pots clatter together when he takes one, but no one comes in.
He remembers he’s not supposed to touch the oven either. Hot.
He picks the mould off the bread, uses the wrong end of a fork to hack the cheese into lumps. The bedroom door is closed. It’s been closed since Monday. Since the audition.
There is no answer, but he doesn’t expect one. Not this early. Maybe in a day or so she’ll be up again, putting on makeup and answering the phone, answering the phone, answering the phone…
‘This is the one. Definitely, darling, Mummy can always tell.’
Now, she’s in the dark, with the curtains closed. He’s not supposed to turn the light on.
The duvet moves. Makeup is smeared around her eyes. Her hair is greasy.
She doesn’t look like the girl in the posters.
But then the girl in the posters is a child.
(Prompts: Curtain, Light, “Have you seen a fallen star” – 1/2/17)