Family Business, 1. Home again.

Much as I enjoyed my trip to Spain (at least after the Akenbola brothers were safely locked up in my castle dungeon again), I was glad when I parked my car in the garage of my London home and, suitcase in one hand and Samantha's basket in the other, climbed the stairs to my flat.
My neighbours usually feed the cats for me - we have an agreement about that - so I wasn't too concerned when I found the door unlocked. I once tried those timed cat-bowls, but the little bandits just forced them open. Once Inside I put down Samantha's basket and let her out again. She ran into the flat.
Then I saw a pair of shoes that weren't mine, and I smelled bacon. Fried bacon.
I hurried into the living-room. Then I sighed.

I had a visitor. She stretched and yawned. I shook my head.
"When did you arrive?" I asked the untidy black-haired girl.
"A couple of days back. You weren't here..."
"I was in Spain. I told the neighbours..."
"Well, I just got your spare key from under the mat. I can look after myself..."
"I suppose your room's a tip now? Did you put any washing on?"
"No. I didn't need to."
There's something about Scruff that brings out my mother-instinct. It makes me want to yell at her. She's actually my little sister, aged sixteen, and her name's Lilian. I hope my drawing illustrates why she's better known as Scruff. She had been living in at the boarding school, and I wasn't sure why she was in London.
"Scruff?" I asked her. "What happened?"
"I don't want to do A-levels," she replied. "I'm no good at them, and I want to leave that school anyhow. I thought I'd come to London and live with you. After all, you've got plenty of money. And I could help you."
Great, I thought. The world's untidiest teenager wanted to be my assistant.
Truth to tell I'd have let anyone other than Scruff do it. It's not that she isn't a great kid and a friend, it's that what I really need an assistant for is filing, and if I left Scruff to do that I'd end up with my files all covered in egg and bacon stains, all over the place.
"Is that all?"
"No. Mum stopped paying me my allowance."
'Mum' - our stepmother - was supposed to be looking after Scruff's inheritance. She had no right to refuse to pay her allowance. It sounded serious.
"Okay, Scruff, I'll look after you. Is there a pile of washing-up in the sink?"
She nodded guiltily. I just laughed - little sister can be so annoying sometimes. But maybe it was that posh school where she'd had all her meals cooked for her, and all her washing done for her.
"Settle down. I'll call the maid and see if she can do anything about your room."
I thought I might be saddled with my sister for a while.