Chapter 1

The little boy was engrossed in his artwork. He was carefully scrunching tiny pieces of scarlet tissue paper and attaching them with PVA glue to the blue card. So far he had nearly completed the large, red heart. He still had to stick the brown fur on - for the lion's mane. It was Mother's Day on Sunday and the card was for his mam. He loved her so much, which was why he had made the big loveheart. He'd put the lion on because it was his favourite animal!

Miss Pennington, the class teacher, was talking in hushed tones with Miss Sykes, the Head Teacher. Every so often, she would glance at Danny, a sad expression on her face. Danny was really fond of Miss Pennington - she was really kind and never shouted at him. He didn't want to see her so upset so he ran up to her to give her a big hug.

Miss Pennington bent down to his level and touched him gently on the shoulder. She couldn't look him straight in the eye.

"Danny, you need to go with Mrs Sykes."

Mrs Sykes took hold of his little hand and led him to her office.

"I've not finished my lion………………"

These were the last ever words, Miss Pennington heard Danny Trevanion speak.

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"Hello, Daniel," an unfamiliar female voice said kindly.

Danny looked at the man and woman sitting in Mrs Sykes' office. Who were they? How did they know his name?

Danny looked at Mrs Sykes with a puzzled expression on his face. Why did all the adults have red eyes? They all looked as if they had been crying.

"Danny," Mrs Sykes uttered gently, "There's been an accident. Your mummy and daddy's car was hit by a big lorry. I'm sorry but they've both gone to heaven."

"Both gone to heaven."

The words echoed around the six year old boy's head. Mrs Sykes was still talking. He could see that her mouth was moving, but he could no longer hear what she was saying.

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Danny didn't have any brothers and sisters. His mother had been very ill after she had given birth to him and was left unable to have anymore children.

Both of Danny's parents had doted on him. They may have not been financially rich, but he was never short of love. His mum had given up her teaching career when she'd had him and she was determined to educate him well, to give him the best possible start in life. She taught him how to read and write when he was three years old. She'd encouraged him to love books and from these he learned about a wide variety of subjects: countries, flags, dinosaurs, cars and especially animals. His dad worked at the chemical works in Billingham, but as soon as he got home, he would take Danny to the park to play a game of football (in the winter) or cricket (in the summer). He'd also shown Danny how to repair his bike and how to make and mend things from wood, nails and glue in his back garden shed.

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The man and woman were his Auntie Mary and Uncle Joe. She was his dad's older sister. He'd never met them before, because they lived several miles away in Lancashire. They'd offered to look after Danny, it was the least they could do. They didn't have any children of their own. Auntie Mary and Uncle Joe were all the family Danny had left in the world.

Danny sat in the car, still in shock from the revelation that his parents were dead. They went into his house and came out several minutes later carrying a single, small suitcase.

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The move from Stockton-on-Tees to St. Anne's-on-Sea was very difficult for Danny. The children at his new school made fun of his Yorkshire accent. Some even teased him because he was an orphan. He spent many playtimes on his own during that first year, wishing he could go home; wishing his mam and dad were still alive. Eventually his voice became less distinct as he developed a Lancastrian burr and his goalkeeping skills earned him the respect of the boys in his class, even though he still supported his dad's team, Middlesborough F.C. and not Blackpool F.C.!

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Auntie Mary and Uncle Joe were kind people and they tried their best to look after Danny, but having had no real experience of children, they found it difficult to relate to their nephew. After school, he would spend most of his time, on his own, trying to keep the memory of his parents alive. In winter, he would play football in the garden. In summer, he would head for the beach, carrying the wooden cricket bat his dad had made one Sunday, and dream about scoring a century for England. In the evenings, he would spend hours studying the books his mam had read to him at bedtime.

When he was twelve years old, Danny discovered a new interest, one that would become central to his life. He would wait avidly each week for Sunday night to come around. This was the only time, other than meal times, that he would spend with his Aunt and Uncle. He would sit wide-eyed in front of the small colour TV set, anticipating the familiar tune and opening titles. He would watch as the old car drove through the Yorkshire countryside and Danny would be transported into a life that he knew he wanted when he was older. One day he would be just like James Herriot - he was going to be a vet when he left school.

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