Charlotte takes another sip of champagne and tilts her face towards the sun, letting the chatter and children’s laughter wash over her. The annual Easter festival at the Red Lion is always a blast, bringing everyone in the town together. But this year feels extra special with the unseasonable heatwave.
She’s jolted out of her reverie by a sharp poke in the ribs from her daughter.
“We’re going on an Easter egg hunt!” Meg giggles, trailing a chocolate-covered hand over Charlotte’s lap.
“Meg! Watch my new jeans. Have fun!” she calls, but Megan is already running, a blur of blonde curls and ribbons as she follows the bright procession of children marching behind the Easter bunny. They disappear through the gate at the bottom of the beer garden just as the sun is covered by a patch of dark cloud.
The chill in the air is immediate.
“Let’s go inside!” Charlotte says.
They flock around the bar. It takes Charlotte several attempts to prop herself up onto one of the stools.
“You’ve outdone yourself this year, Jude!” she slurs at the landlady. “The Easter bunny was the best idea! I’ve never heard the kids laugh so much. What time do you think they’ll be back from the Easter egg hunt?”
Jude places the pint of Guinness she’s pouring onto the bar to settle and looks at Charlotte, her features scrunching closer together in confusion.
“Easter bunny? I didn’t hire an Easter bunny.”
Charlotte stares at the swirling Guinness and her stomach churns. The parents all take a collective sobering intake of breath.
Panic spreads like wildfire. Within moments, everyone is out in the garden, frantically calling their children’s names.
And then, relief. The Easter bunny, a ray of yellow sunshine, steps through the gate just as the rain begins to fall.
But there are no children.
“Where are they?”
The Easter bunny throws its arms out dramatically, and a muffled female voice floats out of the mask.
“Your lovely children!” she says. “While you were too busy getting drunk to question where they were, I was getting to know them all. How well do you know them? Or do you take them for granted? Some of us aren’t lucky enough to have children. Anyway, your little darlings and I have made you an Easter egg hunt. Inside each egg is a question about your child. Get it right, and you see them again. Should be easy, right?”
A clap of thunder splits the air.
*
Megan looks around at all the little tearful faces. Even the tent they’re in is crying, rain dripping off the porch. It’s been three days now. They’ve eaten so much chocolate that they feel sick, and the grown-ups still haven’t returned.
But the Easter bunny has.
“Where are our parents?” Meg cries.
The Easter bunny laughs. It doesn’t sound like a friendly laugh anymore.
“Oh, they were bad eggs. It’s just us now, kids. We’re going to have so much fun! More chocolate, anyone?”
