Lost
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"We're going to be late!" I yelled up the stairs to my gran.
"Well, it's not exactly my fault, is it!" she snapped. It was, obviously, her fault. Having planned everything the night before, we were both annoyed that things were not going as arranged I had 20 left over from my birthday a few weeks ago and had spent the rest on a new mobile. My gran had asked if I wanted to accompany her to the Forge, and I had agreed, planning to buy a new cover for my phone. The only thing I hadn't counted on was that, as a rule, my gran spent twice as long getting dressed if there was even a chance that she'd step out the door. This had reduced us (or more precisely me) to bickering old ladies:
"We've already missed the first train!"
"We'll get the second one, then...