Clouds and Silverlinings

By Josie Paige

This segment begins with a terrible tragedy; Angels mother has been involved in a fatal accident thus her world seemingly has come far too quickly to an end. What will she do now? Where shall she go? How will she cope? Then at the funeral a stranger comes and offers her a chance to meet a family member that she didnt even know she had and an opportunity to change her life forever - should she take the chance? What would her mother say she should do? Why has she never met any other family? Maybe she could get some questions answered about that at least. This could be the opportunity she has been waiting for or the worst decision she has ever made in her life. This could be the start of the rest of her life. In more ways than one. This chance of a new life would send her to Europe where she meets her soul-mate - a woman who sweeps her off her feet so fast it seems too good. So begins a vastly different life that brings challenges to overcome with a new family behind her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781467897440

Josie Paige

This was the hardest to write for me. I do hope you find it finishes the story well. I did have the most fun writing this part of the story though, trying marry justice and feelings of getting over a loss most tragic.

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© 2012 by Josie Paige. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/10/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4678-9741-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-9744-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

FUNERAL

A NEW FAMILY

WALKING HOME

MS. MARION AND SANGRINARIUM

AT HOME

PLANS

FLIGHT TO A NEW LIFE

WELCOME TO SPAIN

SANGRINARIUM

DAY ONE—NEW LIFE

THE MANOR HOUSE

FEELING SAFE FOR NOW

THE FIRST DAY

FIRST WEEK

FIRST NIGHT

THE FIRST SPORTS PROJECT

HOME COOKED MEAL.

THE MORNING AFTER

WORK SHIFT FROM HELL

CHAPTER 19

A BUSY WEEK

HALFWAY

NIGHT-CLUB

THE BEACH

THE PARTY

A QUIET WEEKEND?

BEACH

GAMES

SUNDAY AT HOME

A BUSY FEW WEEKS

SPREADING WINGS

PROJECT LEADERS

INTERLUDE

A BIRTHDAY TRIP

EIGHTEEN!

ONE WEEK BACK HOME

TOYS AND MORE

SOME QUESTIONS NEED TO BE ASKED

AN EXCITING HOME COMING

A HOMELY SURPRISE

COMMITMENTS AND COMPLICATIONS

WORRIES

PRE WEDDING JITTERS

WEDDING ATTIRE AND NEW HOUSE

THE WEDDING IS NEAR

THE WEDDING

THE ROUND UP

FUNERAL

The sun crept out from behind a cotton wool-like cloud apologetically, a breath of spring warmth snaked its way through the small crowd kissing each members cheeks and ankles as it passed, and fussing up perfectly placed strands of hair. The funeral needed to come to a finish now; Angel was aching inside, hurting like she had never known was possible to hurt before. Her mother was a young woman, full of energy and life and Angel wished that this nightmare would end right now with her waking up in a blind panic, see her mum walking into her room and complaining that she had not gotten up yet, or for being late for college or something. No matter how hard Angel pinched herself this was real and she wasn’t going to wake up, she struggled against the feeling to let out all her pain, her anger and all those tears waiting to be set free. After the accident the police and the inquest etc., Angel had had to wait a little longer than usual to arrange the funeral; thank god mum had arranged everything down to the last detail or otherwise there might not have been a funeral today. Angel knew nothing about these things, how much effort it took, how many people needed to be involved. There was her letter from mum that still needed to be read, it was her last message to Angel and apparently she wrote a new one each year, to update things, since Angel was very young. Did she throw the others away Angel wondered? Or did she keep them? She didn’t know and there would be no need to keep them really, except now she hoped mum did keep them somewhere, so she could read them and see what she written. It would feel like mum was still here somewhere, just away. Someone touched her elbow; people had started to move away now. Everyone came over and gave Angel a hug, told her they were there for her if she needed anything, anything at all—but they couldn’t give her back her mum could they!? As the last of the crowd made their way back to their lives, handkerchiefs in gloved hands, make-up running a little down Mrs. Ross’s face from too much mascara and the wrong type of foundation, Mr. Pellow looking far too frail to be making his way across a due sodden ground—being about eighty now, he was one of mum’s best neighbours and the first to welcome her into village life without any judgements. She moved here pregnant with Angel seventeen years ago. Mr. Pellow was always friendly, always a smile on his face except for today of course, he looked positively pale and quite ill, probably the shock that he had outlived his friend. Now realising she was all alone in the graveyard, she froze to the spot for a second, felt a little giddy as she leant against a tree trunk.

‘Oh my god! I am all alone!’ her thoughts were wildly swimming about her mind now.

What am I going to do? Where am going to go? Should I go anywhere? Her eyes were welling up, the flood gates were open and streams of tears started their rapid descent down her cheeks. She shook as she cried the emotion all at the surface could be contained no more. Falling to her knees scraping against the tree bark, she stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. Then, hearing twigs snapping under foot she started to get up, suddenly feeling a little ashamed to be caught showing emotion and actually allowing her emotions get the better of her. Let me help you Angel, a strong arm gave her the strength to stand and held out a large white handkerchief, with initials sewn in delicate royal blue thread. Angel, I’m your Aunt Marion. Your mother may never have mentioned me; we weren’t on speaking terms for many years. I have a proposal for you,—she spoke as if addressing a board room full of business associates Angel thought, not someone here to pay respects at a funeral!—You should read your last letter from her when you feel up to it; it may explain a few things. This is Gordon, my attorney. He will tell you anything you want to know that he truthfully knows the answers to and anything he does not know you can ask me yourself. Looking straight at her, Marion didn’t seem a hard woman, but she was obviously not to be messed with. Angel felt compelled to speak at this point. Trying to compose herself a little more was difficult, as this was not what she was expecting this morning.

Aunt Marion? Then Gordon stepped forward, holding out his hand, Angel went to shake it, but he took it gently and kissed it instead, bowing a little as he did so. I am truly sorry you’re going through this. I did not know your mother personally, but I am at your disposal. At my disposal? Angel still felt lost and was struggling to understand anything at this time. Gordon spoke softly, but seemed genuine enough. Angel was in total shock, ‘who were these people? My Aunt Marion? I didn’t think mum had any relatives,’ but she must have she supposed. Gordon offered his arm as support, a gentleman obviously, Angel wasn’t used to this, but she humoured him.

I’m going to leave you in Gordy’s hands for now, he will tell you everything as I said he would, he will let me know your answer when you have had time to think, but try not take too long dear please, as I’m a busy woman. At that Ms. Marion left, her cigar smoke was trailing behind her like an entourage, Angel hadn’t noticed that before, the cigar mustn’t be too large, otherwise surely Angel would have noticed it? As Ms. Marion neared her limo the driver opened the door and let her inside and she drove away. Is there somewhere fairly quiet, not too noisy so that I can tell you why we’re here and you can then interrogate me all you like? he smiled as he asked this, hoping not to sound as awkward as he starting to feel. There was a small discreet café just around the corner, ‘mamma’s little Bakery,’ it had old fashioned pale blue check curtains that were across the middle of the windows, you could see the sunshine stream through but you also had privacy from passers by, the kind of place her mother loved. Peaceful, pretty and romantic in the right circumstances. Mum used to say that to her about ‘Mamma’s little Baker,’ that you could open a bottle of wine in there, enjoy as much ice cream and as many toffee apples as you wanted and have as much privacy as you needed. The owners had been there for twenty-five years, changing the menu to keep up with trends but their style and décor stayed the same. You could eat outside between April and Septembers end, when the weather allowed. In fact Bill and Nancy were having an awning put up outside, to shield everyone from an unexpected shower or two, it would match the décor of the inside perfectly, with it being a light blue chequered design to match curtain detail. That was next weekends planned event, the towns folk thought it was a brilliant idea and so insisted on helping with the input of this awning. All plans were approved, carpenters were approved and ready to do their job and anyone available and willing to help were welcome. There would be free sandwiches and beverages for all helpers on the day. It would be finished by tea-time the same day it was started. It was a kind of twenty-five year anniversary gift from the people to Bill and Nancy.

A NEW FAMILY

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Reaching the Bakery Gordon pushed open the door to allow Angel through first, there were some ladies just leaving as he opened the door however, they eyed him with reserve until he offered to help one of them with her baby’s buggy and shopping, suitably impressed with this their reserve lifted especially as he tipped his hat after wishing them a very pleasant day ahead. Angel was immediately surrounded by Nancy and Bill and offered table service with anything she wanted, even if she wanted their breakfast menu she would make an exception for her because of today being what it was. I’m ok thank you Nan, but I’ll have a strong coffee please. If I change my mind though I’ll let you know shortly, noticing Nancy’s disapproval at refusal to eat she thought she better try to be nice. Sure, ok dear and for your friend here? Nancy asked trying not to sound too nosy, but also wondering who this stranger was with his very cordial ways of opening doors and not jumping in with conversation as was very common these days—especially with out of towners. He smiled politely as he fussed with his moustache. I’ll have the same please, good lady, whenever you’re free to do so—in your own time. Nancy blushed a little and was almost tempted to curtsy, but stopped herself just in time. Walking away she called through to Bill and he brought through a little mini pot of coffee for them both to drink. Now, do you prefer Angel, or would you prefer me to call you miss Francoise? He spoke so quietly and gently that he had your total audience. He poured some coffee for Angel first and then himself. They had a choice of milk and cream with their coffee, Angel chose the cream, Gordon drank his black, years of late business meetings and home visits late into the night meant he had gotten used to needing the caffeine. Mr . . . . ? Gordon, I’m sorry I don’t know your last name. He pulled his attaché case up onto his lap, and found a business card with a very posh looking card with curly lettering on it. It said Mr. Gordon Pillar. Please call me Gordon though; Mr. Pillar sounds far too formal.

Very well, Gordon, I’m not feeling great today, as you seem to be aware I was attending my mother’s funeral. Can you please tell who you both are and why you’re here? And why didn’t you attend the funeral? If you both knew my mother why didn’t you attend? And its Angel by the way, anything else is too formal for me here today. Mum used to call me her Angel. Her mind drifted a little here as her eyes started to well up with tears. Gordon found another handkerchief from his pocket, again it was embossed with initials, royal blue inscriptions, same as the previous one. Thank you. Taking a mouthful of hot coffee helped to focus her thoughts. I am Ms. Marion’s attorney, as explained. Now don’t worry about what Ms. Marion said about not taking too long to decide anything, you take as long as you need, I’ll handle her when it comes to it. Ms. Marion is indeed your aunt, your mother’s sister. Ms. Marion owns a very lucrative business abroad, but travels over here as part of that business. The last time apparently she and your mother spoke started off in good terms and ended not so well. Apparently your mother told her that she was expecting you and that she intended to have you. I don’t know other details about that conversation or why things then stopped them talking, but I think it had something to do with your father. I’m not sure on that for definite but I have a strong suspicion I’m right. Angel had not pondered that thought for many years, as far mum was concerned her father was dead and was not a very nice man to know, the only good thing coming out of that relationship being Angel. After a certain point during her younger years she knew not to even ask anymore questions about her father, so she didn’t. Ok and what of this proposal Gordon? What does Aunt Marion propose? Her headache was once again starting up, for the second time today. Probably too much caffeine, causes her headaches at regular intervals and Angel had had a lot of caffeine since the accident. Gordon found some tablets in his pocket. I have some tablets for that headache if you wish? She took a couple after reading the label on the packet. Now, Ms. Marion has no children of her own you understand. But I do know that she always regretted the rift between herself and your mother. Your mother wrote to her a few months ago saying that they should maybe meet and start on patching things up. Ms. Marion was surprised with the letter, but very happy and had planned on coming over next month to meet up with her, she was changing her business stuff around to give your mother the whole month in which to be free for a meeting. Now your Aunt Marion would like you to consider coming over to her house in Spain, for as long as you like, you could even move out there with her if you found you loved it. You can find out about her business, if you like it you can be apart of it—or not as you see fit. Your place can be kept here for you as it is now, all bills will be paid up for twelve months, if you want to sell it later then you can do. It’s a good business your Aunt Marion has, very good indeed. Any questions so far? he paused for a short while. Angel was quite shocked. Her face was disbelieving, but she somehow trusted what Gordon was saying to be true. Are you kidding me!? she blurted out. I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I’m sure my Aunt Marion’s intentions are all good; I didn’t even know she existed before a half hour ago. I can’t make these kinds of decisions just like that! Gordon reached across the table and touched her wrist with his palm. I know, don’t worry about it. That’s why I will deal with your aunt if you need time to decide, you take as long as you need. Tell me a little about what’s been happening in your life before the accident. Do you work? Are you at college? What are your plans? Angel didn’t know where to begin. She told him about the college lecturers, how the feeling of disillusionment set in almost as soon as she got there. It was a business course, her mother had insisted that this was a good course to do, the world was an ever changing place and business women were in great demand apparently. Mum had never shown any interest in business whatsoever herself so I was feeling pushed into it. It sounded good though and when I read the details on the class curriculum I thought I’d give it a go. But the lecturers seemed to take an immediate dislike to me. Then I missed my alarm a few times and then the bus rarely turned up on time. They didn’t believe me though. To cap it all one of them showed me up in class in front of everyone else and I wasn’t going to take that. I was hauled up in front of the principal and asked to have respect for my lecturers and turn up on time to all my classes. Well that just about did it, I lost it completely. No-one was listening to me as far as I was concerned, so I left my books and folders on the front desk and stormed out of there as fast as my legs could carry me. Not before I swore at them all though. She laughed at remembering this and then flushed a little too. I came home and had to explain to my mum why I was home early. I wasn’t going to lie to her, we didn’t lie to each other ever, no matter how bad the results were going to be and we swore we would never lie. Mum decided after much arguing from me to go back to the college and try to save my place. Try to patch things up. I told her not to, I didn’t want to go back. I hated that course—well, my lecturers anyway. Angel’s eyes were once again full of tears. That’s when mum had the accident. Another car came from the other direction and smashed straight into her, head-on; her ribs broke on impact, punctured her lungs, and her heart got crushed as it hit her rib-cage. Angel’s eyes were red and sore at this point, after all these tears. Gordon poured a fresh mug of coffee and added some cream. Have another cup, do you need sugar? She said no thank you, but was grateful for more coffee. It was like amber nectar sliding down, strong and unforgiving, just as required. Have you got anything you need to ask me at this point? You have my card on you; you can call me day or night if you think of anything? Anything at all? He asked gently. Oh! I nearly forgot I have something for you. You already have your letter to read at home from your mother? Angel nodded, unable to speak briefly. Too many thoughts going round in her head. I have some pictures for you, might be better if you look at these when you get home too. Ms. Marion doesn’t know I copied these for you. They are of times before you came along and became the apple of your mother’s eye. I sneaked them out of the safe, had copies done of each of them, so they are yours to keep. Did your mother ever tell you about your father? Gordon asked somewhat tentatively. No. Only that he was a bad lot and we were better off without him. She told me he was dead. Do you who he was? Angel asked trying not to sound disinterested, just in case any news may just be worth her while asking. I’ll let your aunt talk to you about him, if you should want to know anything. She knew him then quite well. Gordon passed over the counter a large brown envelope with some things in for her to look at later. "Please call me if you need anything. Your aunt is expecting you to say yes to her proposal, but she can’t force you to do so. I’ll ring in a couple of days; your house phone hasn’t changed numbers has it? She looked at the number he showed her on a card he had. Angel didn’t think to ask how he knew their number. Because of some nuisance calls a few weeks ago Angel changed it. Everything seemed to happen within the last six months—Angel started her college course, mother apparently wrote to Aunt Marion asking for a reconciliation, the nuisance calls caused a change in number, mum got a little pushy about her business course and how Angel must do well, after all look at all the big business ladies of the world and where they started; it would have been a course that set the right path—in addition to the accident, that finalised everything. Angel tried not to think about that too much today.

WALKING HOME

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Angel walked home, it was sunny out and still warm too, the sunshine helped to dry her face a little, rosy up her cheeks again after everything today. Gordon went to stay in a hotel. The breeze blew gently, dancing over her exposed toes, how she really wished for a bowl of vanilla ice-cream right now. That used to be mum’s way of putting the world to rights and in carnival season it was toffee apples—and then on one such occasion it was both! Angel had fallen down at school after clambering out of a tree and had scraped both her knees and made holes in her trousers. The toffee apple helped heal one knee and the ice-cream was for the other one. She must have been about eight at the time. Smiling just then she felt her mother’s cursory kiss on her forehead that came after toffee apples and ice-cream and all the tears. Meandering through the street a child was sat on her front door step, making a daisy chain, she looked up at Angel and smiled; a tooth was missing from the front, she informed Angel that the tooth fairy had given her some money for it after it had fallen out yesterday. Another memory came flitting through, yes, all these tooth fairies must be very busy this time of year, children come outdoors and play now that spring had well and truly arrived. Taking a short cut through the park grounds, Angel admired the daffodils and their many sized heads, all standing to attention nicely and swaying softly in the warm breeze. The twigs underfoot snapped as she journeyed through to the other side. It was very quiet here today as the schools hadn’t ended yet. Angel decided to sit a while, ponder things, not feeling like returning home just yet. Taking off her jacket showed she had a pleasing figure and she wasn’t a plain looking girl. Her father must not have been too bad looking for her mum to like him at one point in her life Angel was thinking. Mum only liked men if they had a certain look about them, suave and sophisticated, taller than her, well groomed, clean shaven. Angel had grey eyes, did not wear make-up often and had wavy brown hair, colour of milk chocolate that descended to just above her waist. Deciding a drastic new measure was in need with herself a new image was in order. Now that mum could not complain about it Angel would have her hair cut shorter. Not too short, but shorter. She would get it cut tomorrow.

Opening the now intriguing envelope Gordon had given her was her next task. No matter what was in there though she would try to smile through it; she had done enough crying for the day in front of people at least. Reaching inside she pulled out a package, black in colour, leather in look but was not real leather. Angel took a deep breath, and opened it slowly. There on the first page were some black and white pictures of two young ladies, can’t have been more than about sixteen and maybe twenty years old, wearing very floral style expensive Sunday best type clothes. There were big buckles on their shoes, possibly shiny shoes at that and socks that went up over the knees. They each held some flowers in their hands, daisies and had some of them in their hair, which was neatly done into ringlets. Were they going to Sunday school? Or church? There was a large field behind them, sloping gently upwards; she wondered where this was and who they were. Were they distant relatives by any chance? The next page had some family pets in too, the same little girls with two dogs, they were a lot younger in this picture though, the dogs almost as big as the younger child. There was a name written underneath one of them, looked like Marion. Was this Aunt Marion? And which one was she? Oh! Maybe the older one was Aunt Marion, but this would mean that the younger may be her mother. Oh my god! Angel smiled from ear to ear; if this was indeed her mother in one of these this was fantastic! Turning another page Angel viewed two stern looking people, an elderly couple, the names underneath this meant nothing to her—they were Georgia and Carlton Frost. No other explanation on these two though. Grandparent’s maybe she thought? Turning the next page there was a another photo, a young man, dressed in a suit that wasn’t fitting properly, and he looked a bit shady—the tie was in his hands being held like rope as if he was about to tie knots in it. His face was scrunched up a little too. He did not look happy. Probably about nineteen years old or so? Teenagers don’t change much then over the years with their mood swings. Had she got a brother also? There was no name with this photo, so Angel could only guess. Another page showed another older couple, looking happier, less stern than the last pair, still smartly dressed and proper; the same field ascending into the skies behind them all; the grass being very short means it was probably taken in the summertime. Now Angel had some questions for Gordon, just in case he knew who all these people were. She was feeling quite excited in one way, this could mean she doesn’t need to be alone, if these were in fact family members, distantly related or not. There was now a new sense of wanting inside of her and a new guilt because she maybe still should be crying over her loss. Putting the album away, Angel could hear the voices of small children in the background, gleeful sounds from glad to be out of school kids. The rest of the walk home took five minutes. Feeling hungry Angel just realised that she hadn’t eaten since last night. Coffee had done as mush as it could do; she needed sustenance if she wasn’t to collapse. Suddenly fancying bacon and egg sarnies with salad cream Angel turned the key in the lock and entered the house. Stopping just inside the front door, she froze; it didn’t feel like home anymore. Why? Because mum wasn’t there anymore, that’s why. Sure her things were there, her room was sure still full of all her things, nick-naks of every description, jewellery, make-up, her collectables and she decorated it herself a couple of years ago. You could see where she had painted her initials somewhere for a joke for Angel to find when she was a child and kept the tradition going. Only this time it wasn’t so subtle, there were patterns on the wall and you would only see it if you stood away from it far enough. There whole wall was a theme around her initials, J and F, Jennifer Françoise. Different coloured paints, patterns, swirls like merry-go-rounds, it was very ‘mum’ and it would stay that way for as long as Angel still lived here. Moving in towards the kitchen, Angel almost heard her mum offering to make a cuppa; she smiled, and replied out loud That’s ok mum, I’ll make you one this time, it’s your time to rest now. The sarnies went down very well indeed, not realising how hungry she was glad she made herself an extra one and drank some tea. Putting the television on was a token gesture, she fell asleep on the sofa and upon waking up Angel realised it had gotten duller outside; she pulled herself upright and rubbed her head. Looking at her watch she found it was early evening, she wasn’t hungry anymore though, and those sarnies had satisfied her hunger. Turning the television off and still rubbing her head she heard the phone ringing. Thinking about ignoring it was a thought, a nice one, but you can’t ignore the phone forever, and it was persistent. Hello? Are you there? Angel? it was Gordon. Yes I’m here, what’s wrong? Well, I’m aware that I said I would give you a couple of days but I thought I would just check see if you’re ok, see if you got home ok. He sounded worried, maybe he was just paranoid. Uh yeah, I’m good thanks. Listen I was asleep, I’m just not with it yet or something, I’m tired. Knowing how tired Angel must be he told her that Aunt Marion was coming back soon, within the next couple of days certainly, her project had finalised early, but Angel wasn’t to feel pressured by this, he was just informing her to keep her up-to-date. Then he said something strange, he asked her if she got caught in the rain storm this morning. When she put the phone down she didn’t understand, until that is she turned the television back on. The news channel was on, it explaining an anomaly due to high pressure areas and low pressure areas, then the rain storms. It was then that Angel realised that she had slept for over twenty-four hours! Needing the bathroom suddenly, all that coffee drinking was taking its toll, she ran upstairs to the bathroom. God! I have never done this! What’s wrong with me? Angel could have had burglars while she asleep and she probably would have slept through that as well. Angel had a need right now to have a hot bubble bath, with plenty of bubbles and candles, and wine, yes, a large glass of wine. Turning the taps they squeaked a little, the temperature didn’t matter too much as long as there were plenty of bubbles; now just needing to find her candles, maybe the scented ones? Yes that was a nice thought, de-stress with scented candles and wine and bubbles. Going back to the living room it was time to lock up, mum always said she must double lock all the doors and windows, leaving a light on if she worried about anything because that would deter any amateur wannabe burglars; she could leave the tele on too, just for tonight. Grabbing the bottle of wine from the fridge and a large glass from the display cabinet, finding the scented candles and a lighter to help them to their purpose Angel went back to her bath, it was half full by now, the bubbles were plenty. Then she wanted some music on in the back-ground, so that got sorted too, a mixed album of dance and love songs, lots to listen to. Well mum, I’m glad you didn’t suffer if they were right about that, I hope they were right about that. Here’s to you. Lifting her glass and toasting her mum she sank into her bath with just those candles burning, and her wine. The water was very hot, making her a little pink as she entered it, but she soon adjusted and Angel surely couldn’t hurt anymore, had done enough of that in the last fortnight and wasn’t prepared to feel anymore hurt for a long time. The wine was good, made her feel sleepy again. After an hour soaking in her bath she dressed for bed and decided she would clean up in the morning. Her bed was very inviting; she had blown out the candles and finished the wine, left a hoard of towels on the floor and could not remember if she had let the water out of the bath. With mum’s letter to read now, this was best done in bed, she opened the envelope and hesitated, smelling her scent Angel smiled a little. As she read her mother’s words to herself she cried some more and laughed a little too. This was like a mini book not a last minute thought. It had the last year’s memories and several from further back. Then it had references to wanting Angel to go to college and complete a business course. Mum must have written this a while ago. There were reasons for this course of action, but she hadn’t put these into black and white. Towards the end of the letter that is when she mentions Aunt Marion. The letter talked about writing her a letter for reconciliation, had written several but not sent them off. Then she says she has completed the letter to her satisfaction and would post it on in the morning and that when anyone comes looking for her don’t dismiss it straight away. Aunt Marion would be able to answer all her questions she had regarding her father and then apologises for her reactions regarding him. But there were reasons why she behaved this way. Angel turned over and fell asleep she dreamt the night away and awoke in the morning to a loud thump next door—kids! Now she understood why mum always complained when she was younger about footballs being played against garage doors at the wrong time of day, then someone else shouted a shut-up at the noise and it went quiet for a while. Getting up Angel went to the bathroom and wished she had cleaned up before going to bed. No good complaining about it now, she just had to do it. It didn’t take very long and feeling proud of her efforts her next task was back in her bedroom, tidying up her mess of clothes on the floor, finding she had a huge pile of washing to do that was the first task in the kitchen, then the dishes, then the floors, the vacuuming, polishing mirrors and dusting shelves. That was enough for now, time to get dressed. Feeling exhausted it was time for a cuppa something hot and maybe something to eat. By the time she put the kettle on the wash load was done, so before settling down with that drink she also put out a line full of clothes, the clouds weren’t looking too desperately ready to drop their load yet and it was warm out, so it was worth a try. Sitting down with her coffee and