‘Shit,’ she muttered, reaching over and picking up the clock. Ten past nine. And the battery was dead, again, so it might be later. She launched herself out of bed, yelling, ‘Posie! Get up!’ Pulling on her clothes from yesterday, she went to Posie’s bedroom. Her daughter was a lump under the covers; Romily shook her shoulder. ‘Wake up, Pose. We’re late.’ Posie grunted, turned over and went back to sleep. Romily paused while gathering Posie’s school uniform and shook her again. ‘Wake up. You’re going to be late for school.’ She had to pull the duvet off before Posie was roused enough to sit up. ‘What?’ she said, brushing her fringe from her eyes. ‘Late.’ ‘Romily. Again? I’m going to get detention.’ ‘Well, maybe you should listen to your alarm clock when it goes off.’ ‘What about yours?’ In the lounge, Romily’s phone was ringing. ‘Get dressed,’ she said, throwing Posie’s uniform on the bed. ‘I need to answer that.’ ‘I don’t believe I’m going to have to stay in at lunch because of you,’ muttered Posie as she pulled off her nightgown.
