59 Ebrington Road

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The frantic knocking interrupted Phillipa’s Dr Who marathon. She hit pause, Tom Baker frozen in time. Escape that Time Lord!

The familiar silhouette was at the door. Phillipa opened, forced back as Percy burst in, running upstairs.

‘Oi, steady!’

Phillipa found him in the bathroom ransacking her medicine cabinet, vials and ointments clattering into the sink.

“Perce? Stop, you’re scaring me!”

No response. Percy was now emptying out the cupboard under the sink. Triumphantly retrieving a wad of sanitary towels.

Enough!

Phillipa hauled him up, ‘Percy, speak. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’

He turned, his crimson chin glistening.

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