"Oh, George, I can't believe it's ours!" Holly gasped, clapping her hands together in almost childlike glee. She kissed her husband on the cheek.
"It will be a while before we can move in, Dear." He cautioned her. "Its going to need a lot of renovation..."
"Yes, I know, we talked about it already." She waved her hand dismissively. Then hesitated, chastising herself. "I'm sorry, George." She hugged him. "I like that you are so sensible...But just look at it! I can't believe there were so few bids at the auction. I mean...Look at it!" She repeated again rapturously.
George's bespectacled eyes squinted slightly as he admired the old Victorian house.
The tall building has seen better days.
An unkempt, abandoned gravel road led to the home, and some weeping willows had been left free to cover part of the way with their branches, which almost like tendrils had caressed the car as it passed through them.
Although beautifully ornate, with flower and shell patterns, the iron railings were full of old spider webs and was marred by rust. The land surrounding the house was overgrown, it trees pruned and its flowers drowned in weeds.
The house, a rather isolated villa of three floors, must have been very handsome once, but now showed evident signs of neglect and decay.
Some of the stained glass windows were shattered, the slate roof needed some repair and the white and gray walls needed to be repainted. He shuddered to think what it would look like inside...
Then she saw his wife's face and smiled.
"Let's have a look inside." He let her enthusiasm infect him.
Her eyes softened lovingly as she recognised her husband's efforts. Then she turned to the car. "We'll have to wake her, first."
The inside of the house wasn't as bad as George had feared, although the damage of time had been severe.
Cobwebs and dust created a clouded effect in the dark rooms as only few rays of light crept in through the wooden boards barring the dirty sash windows. To their surprise and delight, every room had a fireplace, including a majestic marble one in the main hall. Sure, there was a tree growing in the middle of the same room, but it was still nice tree notwithstanding.
While George inspected the rest of the ground floor, Holly strolled outside. The architect and the landscaper called to say there had nearly arrived and Holly wanted to have a first glance at her future garden alone, for some inspiration before being bombarded with questions and other people's ideas. She had always wanted a kitchen garden, and there seemed to be ample room for some fruit trees, especially over...What was that?
Holly squinted as she saw something white in the distance, partially obscured by a weeping willow.
"What are you?" She whispered softly with a smile, walking towards the pale figure. Lifting aside the delicate branches of the tree, she looked up at the majestic statue.
It was an angel, its strikingly austere features creating an impression of strength and beauty as the stone sculpture looked to the house, one hand outstretched as if trying to reach it.
"Oh, we're definitely keeping you." She murmured. An angel on the property. That had to be a good omen!
George wasn't religious and found the idea of faith a trifle silly, but Holly was and it pleased her to see an angel looking over her family's home.
She moved closer, with her eyes on the statue's perfect face. Strangely she began to feel insecure. A little self-consciously, Holly began to pray.
"Please protect my family and loved ones..." She was whispering when Holly closed her eyes.
Then she was gone.
"Mummy?"
The woman's larger frame had concealed a much smaller one, only a few feet away, which watched the stone creature in silence.
A little girl, only three years old, looked with big round eyes at the angel and the spot where her mother once stood.
"Mummy?" She repeated with a quivering voice.
The tiny child, with her short brown hair, green eyes upturned nose looked almost like a cherub as she stepped towards the angel, her wide-eyed gaze never leaving its face.
"Did you take my mummy to Heaven?" She asked the angel, standing where her mother once was, her face pleadingly upturned.
Fearlessly she stepped closer. "Can I have her back?" The girl asked hopefully.
The statue did not move, it hard, stony features softened by the gentle light of the setting sun.
A tiny, delicate hand reached out and touched the angel's foot.
"Please?"
"Grace!" George called, seeing his daughter.
She blinked and turned around. "Daddy!"
Other men, the architect, the landscaper and some workers, approached too. Some looked smilingly at the small girl.
"I was getting worried." George murmured, picking the child up and holding her in his arms. "You know you shouldn't wander around alone. We talked about this..."
"I wasn't alone! I was with mummy." Grace interjected defensively. "But she's gone now."
George frowned slightly, that was unlike Holly.
"Holly?" He called out. Holding Grace with one arm, he began searching for his phone with his free hand.
"She's not here." His daughter insisted. "The angel took her. Daddy, ask the angel to bring her back. He won't answer me."
"Michael, you get to work...I can't seem to find my wife." George muttered wryly to the architect as he pulled out his phone and dialled her number.
"Daddy, ask the angel to bring her back!" Grace pleaded while he walked to the house with his child still in his arms.
"Please!" She cried, turning with her hands outstretched towards the angel as her father carried her away.
"Please give my mummy back!"
The stone creature remained motioneless, its arm still extended to the house, and it almost looked like it was reaching for her.
"Please, Mr. Angel! Please, bring her back! Please!"
.
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Hi everyone!
It's been a while and I am so pleased to get back to writing a Doctor Who fic.
This story was inspired by an Italian song: "Amore Cannibale" by Gianna Nannini. The titles of every chapter will be taken from the translated lyrics.
Thank you for reading my fic, hopefully you will enjoy it!
Feral
P.s.
Reviews make me smile.