Prologue
Cokeworth was a small industrial town in the English midlands best described as grimy. The ugly factories that dominated the skyline spewed out thick black smoke all day long and a thin layer of dust covered most every surface of the town.
Spinner's End was one such street but from there it was only a short walk to the park where laughter echoed from the swings all summer long. From there one could cross over a mostly clean river still gurgling over shallow rocks where mallards paddled and fish darted among the reeds. After the bridge it was only a few metres along a grassy verge until you hit the nicer roads; lanes of pretty cottages where lawns were still mown and you could see out the windows. At Spinner's End you could hardly see where one house ended and another began.
But now it was only two corners and you rounded onto Forget-Me-Not Way. Then it would not be hard to find the shining brass of number 7, carefully nailed to a freshly painted door. Vines and creepers crawled up red bricks and below the windows bloomed a wild assortment of flowers of every colour and variety imaginable. Carelessly piled in the garden lay two small bikes, wheels still spinning as they were quickly abandoned with shouts of joy in search of freshly-baked cookies.
All in all, No.7 Forget-Me-Not Way was the idyllic childhood home. And so it was for our young heroine, Lily Evans. But just as her life began there and this story as well, sadly it is also where the pure innocence of her childhood began to end.
