Lavender ran fingers over the purple flowers she was named after. A heavy scent clouded the air, she breathed in deeply, felt relaxed but also a bit head-achy which due to being in this field. Too much of a good thing! Getting a lavender sprig she took it home.
The abandoned building was a good place to hide from bullies. I could get inside a half broken window but they couldn’t. In the darkness I felt safe again with only my breathing echoing and my feet scuffing the floor.
I didn’t bother with a light, I knew the way to the little room where I could sit and wait for the bullies to get bored. A few times I’d even slept there!
In winter, I got some supplies in; candles, matches, a torch, a sleeping bag, snacks, comics etc. and it became little my own little house.
It was a surprise that it was cold enough to snow but Gwen reasoned this was Scotland after all. The first blanket of white she saw from her bedroom window filled her more with sorrow then happiness. Life was going to be tougher from now on.
She got the kids up, ready for school and didn’t telling them anything. They were over- excited about Christmas all ready; six weeks to go!
Hand on the door to leave, Gwen so thought about lying to keep inside. Instead, she braced herself and stepped into the winter wonderland.
It had been a passing comment from a half-heard conversation that pinged the light bulb in Angel’s mind.
‘I wish there was a vintage tea shop like this near me,’ the bride from the wedding party spoke.
Angel stopped with her patterned tray stacked with fancy tea cups, matching saucers and a cake plates. She looked around. The hotel’s private party room had been transformed into a Victorian tea room; white clothed round tables, tier stands stacked with delicate looking foods and huge vases overflowing with flowers.
‘Yes,’ Angel whispered, ‘that could be my own business.’
He only came when it rained, coming off the moors to seek shelter. I would sat in the library’s window box, reading by gas lamps. I would try to ignore the sounds of him moving around. I had nothing else to say to him nor him to me. We were ghosts to each other.
Bag handler, Frank slowly opened the abandoned suitcase, preparing for the worse. The soft, fuzzy head of a brown teddy bear popped out. The bear smiled at him then attempted to climb out of the suitcase. Frank stumbled back in shock.
‘Is this America?’ the bear asked.
‘No, it’s Scotland.’ Frank managed to answer.
‘Oh, stuffing!’ the bear cursed, ‘must have put the wrong labels on….Can you help me get there?’
‘They went on holiday and left me behind by accident!’