1-2-3-4 → 2-1-3-4 → 3-1-2-4 → 4-1-2-3
An empty bathroom. Empty, empty, empty, until a little girl runs in giggling and climbs into the panelling beside the bath. Her tiny body slots into the space with ease, and she closes the panel with a few crooked fingers. A minute later the moody boy from next door comes in along with the husband who’s soon to be down one sexy heavenly wife. Together they scan the bathroom, the boy pointing to the panel in a bored way.
The husband is full of beans, really making an effort: babysitting no doubt, though if the mother is in next door, why? Does she want the little tykes out her hair while the fat man is mending the plugs? He lifts the panel and does a peekaboo, shouting at the girl “found you!” or similar. She climbs out the bath panel, bursting with laughter, her face a picture of happiness. The boy folds his arms by the sink, a picture of anything but.