Wild Fiction

‘Call it a sixth sense or woman’s intuition if you will but I can feel something going wrong. Are either of you coming with me?’ she said pulling her trainers on.
James had retrieved his book and ignored her question. Conrad shook his head and looked back down at the magazine. She slammed the door on the way out.
Rebecca jumped over the rock wall at the bottom of the garden and climbed into one of the sturdier oak trees. She could see Genevieve pacing around the house. At one point Genevieve came into the garden and looked around. The black and white shape of Miracle followed her outside. She examined one of the rose bushes before snapping a rose off and throwing it onto the grass. Miracle pounced on it and tore the petals apart. Genevieve stood with her hands on her hips and looked around the garden before stopping her gaze on the oak tree that Rebecca was sitting in. Rebecca had already decided to sit perfectly still when Genevieve came into the garden. She was suddenly very conscious of her new white trainers hanging from the branch she was sitting on. She held her legs motionless but could feel the brilliant glow coming from the newness of the shoes. At last Genevieve stopped looking at the tree, turned, and went back inside. As soon as Genevieve faced away from her, Rebecca pulled her feet up and hid them behind a thick branch.