George Flack went straight back to his room. The toys were still crammed full in the box, but George had no mood to open it, no desire to bring them before the children.
He was still wallowing in his own sorrow; how could he think of others?
So George simply lay down. As mentioned earlier, the room smelt moldy, but none of that seemed important. George didn't think to open a window to air it out or even to draw the curtains back a little.
He slept in a daze, oblivious to everything.
…
With the bag swinging in his hand, Dylan couldn't make himself stop. He thought, having managed to buy a fresh, hot cake right out of the oven, he had to get home quickly so Ivy could enjoy it while it was still warm!
Smelling the aroma, Dylan felt as if he had fallen into a pot of honey. It really was delicious!
Arriving home to find the door open, Dylan couldn't help but smile, sure that Ivy was so anxious, she must be looking out for his return, excitedly anticipating!
"Ivy, I'm back!"
