Here we go- the epilogue of What it Feels Like to Fly.
All was quiet that morning in the Hightopp household until.
Alice Hightopp was pulled from slumber by the excited shout from her little girl, Morrigan (otherwise known as Morag) who was now jumping on their bed.
"Wake up!" she yelled again, her red gold hair flying in all directions as she bounced. "Mummy, Mummy, wake up!"
"Alright Morag" Alice smiled indulgently at her middle child. In the five years since she'd married Tarrant they'd been blessed with three beautiful children: the eldest Charlie was five, Morag was four and Archie was two, almost three. "I'm up honey"
"We gots tae geht ready fer the party!" She squealed as her mother tickled her, her outlandish accent colouring the words.
"Are the boys awake?" Alice asked her. "We can't do a thing until after breakfast"
Morag took the hint and skipped off to wake her big brother. Alice dressed with the usual smile on her face. Tarrant would be so surprised; normally Morag accidentally gave away his present- but this year, amazingly, she'd managed to hold her tongue.
Tarrant Hightopp was tired, he'd not been home since yesterday morning; his duties as Hatter to the White Queen were keeping him busy- every day he had another list of orders as long as his arm to get through. All he wanted was to spend his birthday with his family: his two handsome little lads, bonnie wee lass and his beautiful Alice.
It was approaching noon by the time he came insight of their home- no sooner had he seen the roof than little Morag came flying up to him and wrapped her small person around his lower leg.
"Happy birthday Daddy!" she greeted him as he scooped her up and planted her on his shoulders
"Well it is now" he lisped. "Where are your mother and the lads eh?"
"Happy birthday daddy" Charlie had appeared, his flyaway brown hair looked like it had been in a fight with the comb and won judging by the fact that the aforementioned comb sticking out of it at an odd angle.
Tarrant giggled. "Thank ye"
He ruffled his oldest son's hair and managed to get the comb free just as his eyes beheld the centre of his universe; their towheaded youngest on her hip and the hat he'd presented her with at their wedding feast on her head.
In a heartbeat he had her in his arms and kissed her. "My Alice"
"My Tarrant" she smiled softly, pressing her lips to his again. "Happy birthday love"
"Thank yeh, Cricket" He pecked Archie's cheek briefly, artfully dodging the pudgy little fist that came his way. "Naw Hen" he addressed his wife, as she threaded her fingers through his and led him to the tea table. "I'm gaspin' fer a cuppa tea."
There we go- one short epilogue.
Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers :)
I was considering writing a sequel but on second thoughts I decided that I will write a companion piece- set in the six years leading up to the epilogue