The house was painted light blue like the sea in pictures of foreign countries. It was in disrepair compared to the other houses on the street.

Violet’s heart skipped suddenly when she saw an old lady watching her from behind one of the murky windows. Quickly she looked away. When she looked back the lady was gone. A few minutes later the door of the house swung open and the old woman took back her place at the window. Was she inviting her in? Maybe the old woman knew something about William. What more could go wrong anyway? She stood up from the bench and walked towards the house.

“Hello,” she called, stopping just outside the door.

There was no response so she stepped into the hall. The house was as worn inside as it was out. The floor was covered in wonky wood that creaked with every step. Dust gathered thickly on everything in sight. The place was lit by the light that seeped through dirty lace curtains making everything look grey. Dust hit Violet’s nostrils and she stifled a sneeze. A door was partially open into the room on her left.

“Hello,” she said, pushing it in a little more.

The old lady was sitting in her spot by the window, a shadow cast across half her body.

“You opened the door,” Violet said, edging further in.

“I did.”

“Are you ok? Do you need some help?”

“No,” the old lady croaked.

She had long white hair that fell thinly to the floor, the bottom of it was browned by dirt. Her dress was worn but looked as if it may have been amazing in another life. The colours now muted were just a memory of a bright past. Barefoot and her thin boney feet poked out from under a frayed hem. Her face was kind though she had sad eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Violet asked.

The old woman didn’t answer and turned once more to stare out the window. Then it hit Violet.

“You’re not wearing glasses?” she gasped.

“Eyes don’t need glasses to see. They are the window to my soul, I will not curtain them.”

“But...,” Violet stuttered, “how are you not blinded by the sun?”

“It’s the sons that’s robbed me.”

Violet stepped closer.

“Eyes mad,” the old woman snapped, a warning.“Eyes mad. Them sons makes eyes mad. Iris Archer, they all say, that son’s no good. I protected him from Arnold, my William, my apple. Then jealous Ed and Georgie ate him.”

“William Archer?” Violet asked, “is he your son?”

“My son, my moon and my stars,” Iris replied picking her hair from the floor to wipe her tears.

“I’m sorry,” Violet said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“He’s not here,” Iris continued, “They said he was bold as brass, a divided soul but I knew he had spirit. A child without spirit is the sky without stars. He had stars my William. A world full of stars. Are you in school with him?”

Violet shook her head.

“No. No I don’t go to school with him but my Dad works for George and Edward.”

“George and Edward, Edward and George. They took the light from my eyes. They’ve a streak like their father. All in order, there must be order.”

Violet stepped back towards the main door. The old lady was crazy and she didn’t want to upset her anymore than she already had.

“Em...my Mam has tea on and I have to go,” she mumbled.

“Don’t drink the tea,” Iris snapped, “don’t drink it I tell ya!”

“Em... I won’t, I promise,” Violet said, edging closer to the door.

She was just about to step out into the hallway when the old lady spoke again. This time she didn’t sound so mad.

“You remind me of him Violet. You remind me of my William. There’s spirit inside you. Keep it close.”

“You know my name?”

“The boy told me. He’s watching out for your spirit. You’ve connected with his soul.”

“What boy?”

She hadn’t met any boys in Perfect except for the ones in her class and they definitely weren’t looking out for her. Iris didn’t answer, she had slipped back into her own world. Violet asked once more and with still no luck walked from the house into the perpetual Summer back towards home.