AUTHOR'S NOTES: Guys, I am so, so sorry that this has taken so long! As you know, I'm incredibly busy with university - I'm currently doing my exams! - but I have been spending a little bit of time each night because I really felt like you guys deserved another chapter. I'm probably not going to get this story finished by summer like I planned...but I'll certainly try! :P

Anyway, this chapter is nice and long and I really hope you'll enjoy it! :)

Also, thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! xxx


A Thing Of Beauty Is A Joy Forever
Chapter Twenty-Nine - The Telegram

It was one day in August when the telegram came. One day in August when my world completely fell apart. Sometimes, no matter how realistic your fears may be, there is still a part of the human mind that rejects the possibility of them ever actually happening, we believe that tragedy will never actually affect us; only those unfortunate souls we read about in the newspaper…a rather foolish trait that we all seem to have. But, like everyone else, I was guilty of it. Whilst I spent many lonely nights crippled with worry, there was always this very small voice in the back of my mind that told me that everything was going to be okay…and I regret listening to it.

As I said, it was one day in August and I had woken up with a particularly heavy heart, even though Bert had been gone for some time, his absence was never anything less than tortuous – and I never quite adapted to sleeping alone. Of course, I had Mathew and every day I felt more and more blessed to have him – he was truly our greatest gift – but his father being away was an undeniable void in our lives. Mathew had never been a fussy boy, but on this day, I was finding it more than a little difficult to keep him happy and entertained, ideally I would've taken him to the park, but it had been far too hot to be out without adequate shade and the last thing I wanted was for him to be running around in the unruly heat; in the end, I decided to pay my uncle a visit, Mathew did adore him so and, in truth, I really needed someone to talk to. Uncle Albert helped me so much during this period – more than he'd ever know.

Whilst Mathew busied himself with the assortment of toys that were kept at my uncle's house, Albert and I sat quietly sipping glasses of lemonade, although, I must have been too quiet, for it didn't take long for him to start questioning me; but I suppose I couldn't blame him, I was in a very difficult situation, and although I wouldn't admit it, it really was taking its toll on me.

"What's wrong, my dear?" he asked tenderly between well-mannered sips.

It took a while for me to answer, and I'm not sure why; whilst this certainly wasn't the first time I'd opened up to my uncle, it was probably the most emotive my words had ever been. In hindsight, I do suspect that I tried to hold it in for fear of it seeming even more real; that's always the case, isn't it? If something remains in your mind, then we have the power to push it away and disregard it as nothing more than a bad dream, I guess that I hoped that by not saying it out loud, it would become just that. But unfortunately for us all, it was real, and withholding my words never would have changed that. Or perhaps I was just trying to process the whole thing? There was little I could say to describe my emotional state at the time, broken seemed to cover it pretty well, but I suspected such a bleak one-word answer would only exacerbate things and heighten my uncle's worry.

"Nothing new…" I eventually said, "…I thought perhaps it would get easier – seeing as it's almost been a year but…" I had to pause for just a second – to collect myself, "…well, it hasn't, it's still just as painful as when he first left"

"I know, my dear, and I really wish there was something I could do to help"

"You already help so much, Uncle Albert, you're always here for myself and Mathew and you're so good with him"

"He's an absolute darling…" he said fondly, "…and I'm so proud of you, Mary, I can't even begin to imagine how hard this must be for you, I guess the closest I've come to knowing is when Elanor passed away…"

There was a brief and thick silence – almost sticky – Albert rarely talked of his late wife…she passed when I was very young, so I don't remember her that well, but I know that she was a warm, kind-hearted woman and it really hit my uncle hard when she passed.

"…and you're handling all of this so well" he concluded.

"Objectively, taking care of children by myself is nothing new, but…"

"But it's different with your own child?"

"Indeed…he's far too young to have to understand the war and why his father may never come back…he's not even five years old!" I whimpered.

Albert glanced across the room to where Mathew was playing – thankfully he couldn't hear our conversation. I always made sure to hide my darker emotions from Mathew, regardless of the war, I wanted his life to be as bright and painless as it could possibly be…the last thing he needed was to see his mother cry…

"I agree with you whole-heartedly, this war is rotten and has gone on for far too long, but I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, Mary – for Mathew too – I love you and you family so much, and the last thing I want is for you to be in any more pain…you've already suffered enough"

And then, everything broke.

"I just wish he was here…" I whimpered as I broke out in soft, silent sobs.

I felt uncle Albert take my hand, but I couldn't meet his eyes when I was in such a state.

"Oh, Mary…" he breathed, "…I know you do, but you're being so strong, and even though it's hard, I'm sure Bert wouldn't want you to be upset" he soothed as he stroked my hand with his thumb.

"No, he wouldn't, but I don't think I can bear to be without him for another day…it must be horrific out there and he's in so much danger and…and I just want him back…I want him to be safe and I want him to watch his son grow up"

"He will, my dear, and it won't last forever, soon everything will be back to normal and he'll be home safe"

"I hope so"

"I promise you, everything is going to be fine"

But, of course, it was a piecrust promise.


Only two days later, everything changed. It was early one Saturday morning and the August heatwave was still very much alive and well. But I suppose that I should stop eluding to what happened and just tell you…forgive me stalling, but even now, after all these years, this day is incredibly painful to recall. Nevertheless, I shall continue…

Due to the exhausting heat, Mathew and I didn't have any plans, and since it was a Saturday, I decided not to be overly strict with the morning routine (only this once, mind you) so I let him play in his room whilst I prepared breakfast. I was just about to call Mathew to come down for his meal when a slow knock came from the door, I was rather confused – since I wasn't expecting anyone – but I answered it nonetheless; but when I opened the door, and saw the young delivery boy with his head low and eyes apologetic, my heart began to drop.

'No, please, no!' I thought.

"A telegram for a Mrs Mary Alfred" he said cautiously.

"That's me" I replied – fighting to keep the strength in my voice.

With a steady hand, he handed me the telegram – which suddenly felt like rocks within my grip. He tipped his hat gracefully before biding me a soft farewell and walking away. That's when I knew it was bad news…if a delivery boy didn't wait for a reply, the telegram would not inform you of a jolly affair. I moved back into the house on shaky legs – my heart pounding and mind roaring – but thankfully, Mathew was still upstairs. I opened the delivery and when my eyes landed on the words, everything fell to pieces and crumbled into little more than dust. I had forgotten about the heat, forgotten about the breakfast, forgotten about everything as I desperately let my teary gaze run over the words again and again – hoping to process them, to make sense of them…hoping to discover that they were all a dream.

MRS MARY ALFRED

WE DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT ON THE NIGHT OF AUGUST 8TH YOUR HUSBAND BERT ALFRED WAS SHOT IN THE LEG AS WELL AS SUFFERING FROM FURTHER INJURIES.
HE HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED TO CRAIGLOCKHEART HOPSITAL IN ENDIBURGH.

PREDICTIONS REGARDING RECOVERY CANNOT BE MADE AT THIS TIME.

VISITS ARE PERMITTED WITHIN THE HOSPITAL'S APPROVED HOURS.

IF MORE DETAILS ARISE YOU WILL BE IMFORMED.

-SM

And then, everything was empty. Nothing meant anything anymore, there was no meaning, no language, not even a single sound existed, just a roaring hollowness as everything fell apart, as everything melted into a bleak and relentless void. It was despair and it all went right down to my soul, like a fierce hand clutching at my insides, squeezing my windpipe until I could no longer breathe. Then my head began to spin, and violently so as each word slowly began to take on some meaning…Bertshothospital…it chilled my blood with such terror that it began to feel frozen. The world was a shadow of what it used to be, and I, nothing more than an asset to it's blackness, standing still, fighting to breathe and using every ounce of strength to push through the gifted torture.
But then, as if by some twisted miracle, there was a knock at the door and without thinking I moved to answer it – my face ghostly, eyes empty and my body walking on numb legs. I answered the knock without thought and found none other than George and Winifred Banks on the other side; on any other day I would have been delighted that they stopped by since they were good friends of ours, but I barely even registered who they were…I could barely see!

"Good morning, Mary!" Winifred chirped as we walked into the house…I think, "We do apologise for stopping by unannounced, but we were just passing and thought that since we haven't seen each other in quite a while that -" then she noticed, "—Mary? Mary are you feeling alright?"

And that's when everything fell apart. Before I knew it, hot tears began streaming from my eyes and yet another dose of oxygen was stolen from me; I stumbled slightly and ended up gripping the kitchen table for support.

"Mary!" I remember George exclaiming.

And in spite of the ravenous force of my sobs, no sound left my lips – I don't think I was capable of it – instead my body just shook violently as the fear began to coarse through every limb, turning it to weakness. I was sure it would be enough to drive me to exhaustion and to collapse right there. But I didn't, and I was able to hear Winifred's next question as she took me in her arms.

"What's happened?" she squealed with alarm.

"Bert…" was all I could manage to choke out.

The brief silence was harrowing.

"What about Bert?" she asked tentatively, but I knew that she too was beginning to feel some sort of terror.

I tried my best to explain, but I just couldn't speak, my throat had completely closed. Instead, I pointed to the kitchen counter – where the telegram lay – and let them do the rest. Again, there was silence as they read over what had been sent, but I can't say I noticed…all I could focus on was the agonising pain in my heart.

"Oh, Mary…" Winifred breathed as she guided me to sit at the table; she sat next to me and allowed me to cry into her shoulder, "Oh, Mary, I'm so sorry…but at least he's still alive"

'For now!' was all I could think, not that I could bring myself to say it.

"Mary, we all know that Bert is a fighter…" George added calmly, "…and I know that he'd never give up on his family"

"Where's Mathew?" Winifred asked gently.

"…upstairs"

"Go and check on him, George"

I heard him walk away but was instantly reacquainted with Winifred's motherly tone.

"Now, listen to me, Mary, everything is going to be okay"

"But…but it said -"

"—I know what it said, but I also believe in what George said, Bert would never give up on you or Mathew so easily, he loves you too much and you and I both know that he'll do everything in his power to make sure he comes home after this war…and he's been transferred back to Britain, so he'll be away from the fighting and can recover properly"

"I can't lose him, Winifred…" I sobbed.

"You won't, Mary" she assured me…but I had a hard time believing it.


George and Winifred had stayed with me for as long as I needed, and luckily, we managed to keep Mathew in his room by allowing him to have his breakfast up there; it had taken a while, but I eventually managed to calm my sobbing and had a long, logical talk with them both. It had calmed me somewhat – once everything was out in the open and theorised – but I was still so petrified. I had decided to travel up to Edinburgh as soon as I could, but would leave Mathew with my uncle (The Banks family also offered to care for him if Albert was unavailable).

Telling Mathew had been the worst part. Shortly after George and Winifred left, I made my way up to his room, sat beside him on his bed and told him that I'd just received a telegram about his father. I chose to sugar-coat it a lot, the last thing I wanted was to haunt him with such cruel imagery, perhaps it was crueller for me to skirt around the truth so much, but I made my decision and stuck with it firmly. I simply told him that his father wasn't very well so the army had sent him to a special hospital in Scotland so he could get better. Naturally, he was worried, but I think my choice of words made it sound like his father had little more than a cold. Of course, once I mentioned that I was going to go and visit, Mathew had immediately asked if he could come too, I declined, I didn't want to see his father in such a state. That had – understandably upset him too – I had to explain to him that he probably wouldn't be allowed to visit, but I promised him that he'd see his father very soon…and I was determined to keep my promise.

But the one thing I'll never forget is the way he noticed my reddened eyes and the sadness that lay within them – he really was a precocious child – and asked me if I'd been crying; I admitted to it and just told him that I was worried about his father. Without another word, he stood up on the bed and cradled me against him – assuring me that everything was going to be okay, and, perhaps for the first time that day, I started to believe it.


I left for Edinburgh a couple of days later; Mathew stayed with my Uncle and I had assured them both that I would only be gone for a few days…depending on how Bert was. Yet, as the train left the station I felt…strange. I didn't really know how I was supposed to feel, I thought that there might be just a twinge of elation at the thought of seeing my husband again – even if he would be lying in a hospital bed – but the grim reality was that I was dreading it. I had absolutely no idea what state he'd be in, I knew he'd been shot in the leg, knew that he was injured, knew that recovery was not guaranteed…but all of that meant nothing! And I just didn't know if I was ready for whatever potential shock would be waiting for me. In truth, it was a difficult journey and a long one too, but I couldn't risk flying, not with the world in such a state and I really don't think I would've been mentally up to the challenge; I had hoped that the train ride would've gifted me some serenity, a chance to collect my thoughts and calm my terrors…but they were definitely a few moments when it just exacerbated everything.

As had been the case with my pregnancy, the time alone really allowed me to think; now, as I'm sure you may have gathered, I'm usually a very calm and logical thinker, but it seemed that was not the case this time. No, every time I thought about Bert, I remember my chest began to tighten, as if angry vines were trying to squeeze the life out of me and constrict me into a state of panic. I had horrible intrusive visions of what he might look like – lying in a bed, bloody and unable to respond to anything…oh, it really was tormenting! Thankfully, it calmed after a while and I knew that I had to push through such emotions, for my sake, for Bert's and for Mathew's. My legs were trembling when I got off at the station and I had to take several deep breathes simply to gain the courage to move; I decided to walk to the hospital, I knew it wasn't too far and I felt I just needed that little bit of extra time to prepare myself…and as I started to walk, I hoped with my whole heart that I was worrying over nothing. Scotland was welcomingly warm that afternoon and I tried to soak it up as much as I could, perhaps I was just in desperate need of some comfort?…I'm really not sure, on the inside I was in such an awful state…

However, the panic soon picked up again when I entered the hospital, the place was bustling – nurses were scurrying back and forth with towels, bandages and assortments of different medicines…some soldiers hobbled around on crutches, others had weeping bandages covering their eyes – gas attacks, of course – and the air was filled with purposeful words exchanged by staff, the soft interactions between recovering patients and the spluttering coughs of those who may not be so lucky. It really had a strange atmosphere, that perfect cohesion of hope and despair and the patients there really were at opposite ends of the scale, some looked as though they would soon be discharged and – hopefully – sent back to their homes, or at least remain in Britain…others not so much. I really don't like to delve into some of the things I saw, but some of the soldiers were suffering so much, some had terrible shell-shock – making it almost impossible for them to function, and others, well, you could tell just by looking at them that they didn't have much time left. It really put into perspective just how evil this war was…
There was a small desk opposite the entrance, and with shaky, trembling legs, I stepped tentatively towards it and was greeted by the soft – yet somewhat desolate – smile of a young brunette nurse.

"Good afternoon, madam" she said tenderly.

"Good afternoon, my name is Mary Alfred, I was hoping to visit a mister Bert Alfred – he was transferred here a couple days ago"

"Please give me a moment"

She began to flick through a few books – her eyes skimming the pages purposefully.

"Okay, visiting hours are permitted as long as you're a close relation and since you share a surname, can I assume that's correct?"

"I'm his wife"

"I see" she said with a tender smile, "Please follow me, Mrs Alfred"

The nurse was extremely warm towards me and showed nothing less that the upmost professionalism, but as she lead me through the corridors, I couldn't help but contemplate the way she had acted – the way she had spoken to me – oh, she was considerate, but I noticed that she showed no further positive emotions, she wasn't joyful that a husband and wife were about to be reunited, that we were finally going to be together again after almost a year of suffering…I had concluded that she must have been so worn down by her job and that horrors that she saw almost every day that it was probably easier for her to remain stoic and courteous; but at the same time, my paranoia began to flare and I couldn't help but fear that her lack of happiness stemmed from the fact that my visit would not be a pleasant one.

We eventually came to the end of a long corridor and she stopped outside of the last doorway.

"Mr Alfred is bed in number six, it's the last one on the right"

"Thank you" I said kindly and watched her practically scurry away.

This was it. And I decided to just bite the bullet, no more panicking, no more paranoia-filled contemplation, whatever will be will be and I just needed to see Bert so desperately. I made my way through the room, ignoring the slow gallop that my heart had began as I let my gaze scan over each of the beds. I came to the last one – Bert's bed – and couldn't stifle the gasp that left my lips. He was lay completely still – his eyes closed and body rigid – his face was decorated with angry cuts, greying bruises and poking up form beneath the blankets, I could see that his shoulders and chest had suffered a similar fate. In his state of sleep, he didn't seem to be in pain, but I just knew that he would be. My hand flew to my mouth, hot tears of heartbreak scrolled down my cheeks and by body began to shake with silent sobs. The terror had been reborn. Again, my stomach was a bottomless pit, my chest unbearably tight and it was all I could do to keep myself upright. I flew to the chair by his bedside and took on of his hands in my own as I continued to sob.

"Oh, Bert…" I whimpered, "…I'm so sorry, my darling, this shouldn't have happened to you, you never deserved any of this!"

No response. He looked so pale – ghostly.

"I love you so much, Bert, and Mathew loves you too, he so wans to see his daddy again…please, Bert, I need you – more than anything – and I don't think I'll be able to go on without you"

I leant forward and kissed his hands as I continued to sob quietly – the whole ordeal was ripping me apart, tearing into my very soul and draining me of all that I had left; the only thing that kept me going was the faith I had in Bert and the love I had for both him and our son. I'm not sure how long I sat there crying, but I eventually heard a polite cough and as I turned, was met with a grey-haired nurse who looked down at me with warm, caring eyes.

"Are you Mrs Alfred?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"I was jut informed of your arrival and felt you may wish to know the details of your husband's condition"

"Yes please, is he going to be okay?"

"We cannot say for certain at this very moment, he has a gunshot wound to the leg, it's not too severe, but it still has a lot of healing to get through"

"Could…could he lose the leg?"

"From that kind of wound it wouldn't be very likely, but I'm afraid we cannot rule it out as a possibility – especially if it becomes infected"

I let out a shaky breath but tried not to dwell on it.

"What other injuries has he suffered?"

"Well, as you can see, he has unfortunately been cut up rather badly, he has similar wounds across his chest and shoulders – but not too many, and, once again, nothing too severe – he's fractured a rib or two, but as long as he rests well, they should heal just fine"

"How has he been cut so badly?"

"When he arrived, we had to remove a lot of shrapnel from his wounds, it seemed as though he was unfortunate enough to be caught by shell; luckily, he was only clipped by a few stray pieces, although we are unaware of how that may have affected his mental state"

"Shell shock?"

"It's a possibility" she admitted grimly.

"How long has he been asleep for?"

"He's been drifting in and out of it for the past couple of days, hence why we haven't had much chance to speak to him and look for any mental strains…he did speak a few times, but when he did, he only ever asked for you"

"Me?" I breathed as a single tear floated across my cheek.

"Your name is Mary, is it not?"

"It is"

"Then it was definitely you he wanted to see…and a Mathew too"

"Mathew is our son"

"Oh, how precious, how old is he?"

"He'll be five next month"

"Such a darling age"

"He really is a blessing…he wouldn't be allowed to visit, would he?" I asked – already suspecting the answer.

"I'm afraid we only allow children to visit under special circumstances…I'm sorry"

"It's quite alright"

"Is there anything else you'd like to discuss, Mrs Alfred?"

"No, I don't think so, and thank you for all your assistance"

"My pleasure…I'll let you know when visiting hours are over"

"Thank you"

And with one final nod, she was gone.

I must have sat there for hours, sometimes crying, sometimes in silence and sometimes whispering words of love and encouragement to my husband. The whole thing had put me in a void, it seemed as though time was no longer passing, the hours on the clock held no meaning and the only thing that ever existed was my injured husband in his hospital bed. The mere sight of him was enough to make my heart split in two and I could physically feel the ache that was blooming in my chest, I loved him with everything I had, and I just knew that I wouldn't be able to carry on without him – I really doubted my strength. However, I never doubted Bert's, in spite of all of my terrors, there was a part of both my mind and heart that had clung to the words of George Banks, Bert was indeed a fighter and deep down, I knew that he wouldn't give up.

As the sun began to set, I was preparing myself for the nurse to walk back in and let me know that it was time to leave, I desperately didn't want to, but I knew it was something that couldn't be escaped. I gave Bert's hand a gentle squeeze and watched as the sun's twilight glow framed his face so beautifully…it was strange how he could look so at peace. But then, something extraordinary happened. In response, I felt Bert squeeze my hand ever so slightly in return and the new sensation caused me to jolt and sit upright – my eyes wide. I didn't believe it at first, surely he hadn't just…?

"Bert?" I questioned desperately.

Every part of me was begging for this to be true, that he was about to show me some signs of life and that maybe – just maybe – he was about to wake. I gave his hand another gentle squeeze and said his name again, and to my delight, his face began to twitch to life – his eyelids fluttering and lips pursing ever so gently. I was silent as this all unfolded, holding my breath and watching with sheer awe as I saw him come back to me; then his eyes opened. It took him a few moments to adjust to the room and the silence of where he was, but then, he fully registered my hand and with a wince and a crane of his neck, he turned to face me.

There was nothing but pure magic when our eyes met. Everything else melted away and we were no longer in a hospital, we were in our very own world, reunited after so long and after so much pain…there really are no words to describe how incredible it felt. I saw tears well in his eyes and soon I was crying too; I just couldn't believe it, he was alive!

"Mary…" he croaked in disbelief as a smile slowly spread across his face.

"Bert…" was all I could choke out in response.

But then he lifted his free hand to my cheek and drew me in for a solid and desperate kiss and the strength of it sent shockwaves coursing through every inch of my body and I could feel the strength of my love for him bloom and crackle within my limbs. I let him deepen the kiss as I so desperately wanted to be close to him, to let him know of how much I had missed him and how my love for him was stronger than it had ever been.

"Oh, I love you, Mary…I love you so much"

"I love you too"

"You don't know 'ow 'appy I am to see you"

"The feeling is mutual…oh, Bert, I was so frightened" I sobbed.

He pulled me close to him and stroked my hair as he soothed me with his voice. I buried my face into his neck, savouring our closeness, as well as the warmth of his body and the scent the was just so intoxicating…god I had missed him so much!

"It's okay, I'm safe now an' you know I'd never give up without a fight"

"I know…but I just thought…" my words almost failed me, "…I wouldn't have been able to go on if I lost you, and I was just so terrified when I heard the news! You must know that I'd never doubt you but, well, I just couldn't help but imagine the worst"

"You'll never 'ave t' worry again, love, and I'm so sorry you 'ad to go through all that"

"Why are you apologising to me? You're the one that's been in a war, you're the one in the bed…"

"You know I don't like t' make a fuss" he smirked.

"You're far too modest, Bert Alfred, but I do love you for it"

"I love you too" he said seriously before giving me a tender kiss.

"'ow's Mathew, is 'e okay?"

"Mathew is fine"

"'as 'e been coping alright since I've been away?"

"It's been a struggle for us both, but he really has been doing wonderfully, he's such a brave boy"

"Ah, I really wish I could see 'im" he sighed.

"I know, dear, but you will do soon, I promise…but for now, I want you to focus on getting better, the nurse said you've chalked up quite an impressive list of injuries"

"Well, I don't like to brag" he chuckled.

"I'm serious, Bert" – although I only said it semi-seriously.

"I know" he smiled.

"I missed you so much"

"I missed you too, but the thought of seein' you and Mathew again was what kept me going. I wasn't just fightin' for my country, Mary, I was fightin' for the two of you, as well"

"And the thought of seeing you again was what kept us going, even though Mathew has been coping well, it really has been difficult…thankfully we've got so many good friends who care about us, and I don't know what I would've done without my uncle"

"It was torture to think about you sufferin' all alone, I know you're strong, but sometimes you're a bit too strong, you bottle everythin' up t' try and keep others out of harm's way"

"I had to do that with Mathew, though, I didn't want this war to be any hard on him than it already was…besides, I really wasn't alone" I assured.

"I'm glad to 'ear it, but I'm so glad that we're finally back together…even if it is in unfavourable circumstances"

"Me too"

I was about to lean in for another kiss when a voice brought us out of our bubble.

"Oh! Mr Alfred, you're awake" gasped the nurse.

"So it would seem"

"How are you feeling?"

"Marvellous now that I've got my wonderful wife with me" he commented – chuckling at the ferocious blush that began to fill my cheeks.

"Well, I must say that certainly is encouraging, but unfortunately, visiting hours are over now"

"She can't stay longer? I 'aven't seen 'er in so long" he said almost defensively.

"I'm afraid not, Mr Alfred, it's hospital policy that visiting hours must be strictly obeyed, and now that you're awake, we need to run a few more examinations"

"I see" he sighed.

"It's okay, Bert, I'm up here for a few days and I'll come and see you as soon as visiting hours are open tomorrow"

"I can't wait" he said tenderly.

"I love you" I whispered once more.

"I love you too"

We shared one final kiss – not caring that the nurse was there – before I finally rose from the seat and reluctantly left his bedside. But as I made my way back down the corridor, there was a hint of a giddy smile tugging at my lips and I simply couldn't shake the feeling that everything was going to be okay.


AUTHOR'S NOTES: So, there you go! I bit of an emotional roller coaster, but it definitely progressed the story! As I said before, I really hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far and I'd really love it if you left some more because not only do they mean the world to me, but they really help my motivation and help me to write and upload more frequently.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you soon! xxx