The Light of His Life
Disclaimer: Don't own POTO… but I do own Piers.
A/N: All my reviewers, I owe you my thanks. Have a look at my new story Let Me Be Your Hero if you get a chance. It's quite different. Enjoy!
Please read and review…
Chapter 10: The Measure of Love…
"What are you singing?" Piers asked just as soon as Erik had stopped, watching as his friend tucked the recently sleep-succumbed child he cared for into her bed.
"Requiem for a Weasel…" he replied softly, running his hand faintly across Christine's forehead, marvelling at her beauty and innocence even as she slept. Someone who could keep up such an image perpetually was truly everything they portrayed themselves to be. She was divine.
"What?"
"Christine's weasel died – we are giving him the send-off he deserves… she fell asleep during the requiem, but I could not just leave it there."
Piers had wondered why Erik had answered the door, holding a sleeping Christine against him and singing without pause as he let his colleague into the house. "Forgive me… I didn't realise Christine had a pet."
"She didn't… they became acquainted when he was already post mortem."
"You wrote a Latin requiem mass for a weasel Christine found dead?" Piers asked incredulously.
"Yes," he stated matter-of-factly, still gazing upon the beautiful child in front of him.
"Oh." Really, he didn't know why he felt embarrassed to have thought otherwise… but things were strange in this house – the occupants lived by different rules than the rest of the planet.
"She is a delicate soul…" he murmured, placing his hand on top of hers on the bed covers. "She needs to know he was loved."
"A weasel? Seriously?"
Erik nodded solemnly and stood up to leave the room so that she might rest without disruption. "I took her down to the pet shop and had a headstone created."
Piers looked straight at him and shook his head, watching as Erik ran his eyes over the dark room one last time, to make sure nothing was amiss, and closed the door. "If ever one could measure love on a scale, it would be on willingness to do absurd things for their loved one, while finding them absolutely normal… and you'd win."
"Too bloody right."
"So why don't you tell me what I'm doing here?" Piers asked as he stood in the airport with Ada and Meg. It was early Sunday morning and, quite frankly, he'd rather be asleep in bed than standing in the Arrivals lounge of an airport, waiting for God-knows-what to happen.
Ada looked up at the screen which stated that their plane had recently arrived and studied it again, even though they'd all checked numerous times. Neither Meg nor Ada could understand why they were so nervous about the next few minutes however. "Meg found out that Erik and Christine lied about coming home early and stayed in Italy instead. We swapped flights two days early to be here before them…" Ada said at last.
Piers narrowed his eyes at them both. "To see them arrive?"
"Yes."
"And you cut short your holiday for this?" he asked incredulously. Was he living on a world where he was the only sane person? Really, he thought, normal people don't do these things…
"Yes."
"What is it you think is going to happen?" And then he bit back a colourful expletive as Meg jabbed him in the chest to get his attention back on the long, wide corridor before them where he noticed the couple that they had been waiting for… Christine and Erik were walking together there, their sides pressed flush against each other and his arm around her as he pulled their bags along. "So, what?" Piers asked, turning back to Ada and Meg. "I've seen them look more compromised than that." And he had, too… that is, until he saw Erik turn towards Christine and give her a full, open-mouthed kiss on the lips. "Well… maybe not that compromised."
As the two adults stared in shock, Meg took her phone out of her pocket and took a picture and videoed it for extra measure, even as they continued out of the airport, unaware of their trio of spies.
Erik was standing by the kitchen window early one morning, pausing in rinsing his cup to look out the window at the dull, but mild, day ahead of him. In fact, the day was oddly reminiscent of one not too long ago when his little Christine had found that weasel and taken it upon herself to oversee his funeral arrangements.
As the blurriness cleared from his eyes, however, Erik did not waste time blinking to make sure he was seeing what he appeared to be. Immediately, he let go of the cup, uncaring as it clattered into the sink, and he ran outside, bare feet and all, up the garden where he caught Christine just as she fell with a little squeal from a tree, right into his arms.
"What were you doing?" he asked a little more harshly than he had intended as his fear of her getting injured burst through. "You could have been hurt! What if I hadn't been here to catch you?"
"You are always here to catch me when I fall, Angel," she said innocently, unfazed by his upset. She could very well have fallen and broken her neck, but, in the way only a little child can, she did not seem affected in the least.
Calming slightly, he placed her on her feet in front of him and shook his head sternly. "What were you doing?" he repeated.
"The little bird fell out of the nest and I wanted to help it back…"
"Oh, my child… you must understand… you can't save them all," he said sadly, wishing she would never have to learn that hard lesson.
"Somebody has to, Angel…"
"Don't make me put child-locks on the doors…" he warned, terrified one night she'd go outside by herself and something would happen to her and he wouldn't know until morning. Though, secretly, he believed he would feel it should anything ever happen to her… they were connected in a way he couldn't explain. He loved in a way he couldn't describe. And she traipsed back inside the house in her little child's walk, Erik merely watching her go, as she was clearly unaffected by his threat. And of course she was… for her, there would always be her Angel protecting her so that she might protect the littler ones than herself. Would that she would never learn it could be otherwise…
Christine… saver of little animals… overseer of the burials of small, furry creatures… spokesperson for quadrupeds…
Christine… keeper of Erik's heart.
"I can't believe my mum made me come back to school today when we're still supposed to be on holiday for another two days," Meg complained, walking up to Christine as she got out of Erik's car in the teachers' car park.
Christine stared in total surprise to see her friend there and then smiled, happy that she was there. She had missed her after all… maybe not as much as she had missed Erik when they were parted – but she had missed her. "Meg? What are you doing here? I…"
"Well, after you left, we couldn't really come to an agreement about anything…" Like what to do about him kissing you, she finished in her mind, almost glaring at Erik. She, her mother and Piers had not yet decided what they were going to do about Erik and Christine… the two adults didn't want to get Erik in trouble but all three of them were also vastly concerned about Christine. They had, as a group, decided to speak to them about it, but, beyond that, no other conclusions had been reached. "So we decided we'd better just come home early."
"I'm sorry I ruined your holiday."
"No, Christine, it wasn't your fault." And it wasn't… it was Erik's, so Meg believed – let him take the blame for it. Let him get in trouble for it. It was a pity, then, that Meg couldn't quite see what that would do to Christine.
"Well, I'm glad to see you, Meg," she greeted genuinely, giving her a quick hug before Erik took hold of her and pried her away.
"There is no point in being here at all if you are going to stand outside during classes," he commented dryly, leading Christine inside. He took her straight to his room and deposited all of their things there before sitting with her in his chair and him leaning against his desk on the same side. And then she had to go and say something he hadn't been expecting…
"Meg is my friend."
"Yes." He nodded, unsure what else there was to say on the subject.
"I don't pry you away from Piers… in fact, I do nothing but make sure you do actually spend time with people other than me."
"Firstly, Piers is just one person, Christine. Secondly, spending time without you is hell… you only torture me. And thirdly, I am not keeping you away from Meghan."
"Then what was that? I just saw her when I hadn't expected to see her for another couple of days, and you pulled me away before I even had a chance to ask her what the flight was like."
"I didn't do it to spite you. It did not even occur to me… I'm sorry." For some reason unwilling to forgive him just yet his slight, she pouted like a child, got up out of his seat and went over to her own desk, no longer speaking to him. "Christine, don't get upset. We were so happy this morning, weren't we? We had a wonderful time when it was just us in Italy… we became closer and worked out our feelings… we talked it all through… how is it I manage to upset you not a minute after we arrive here, without even meaning to?" Raising her eyebrows slightly, Christine continued blanking him, brushing at an imaginary imperfection along her nails. "What have I done? What is it that is upsetting you?" he asked, lowering himself beside her to try to get her attention. It seemed that, ever, he had to pander to receive her affections.
He was frustrated that she wouldn't talk to him and was even more so when he had to pull away from her because his first class had started to come in. What the hell was that anyway? he thought. Did we just have our first fight as a couple? What was it even about? And are we a couple yet, really? He was confused… he had never been in a situation anything like this before. He didn't know enough to assume that they were seeing each other romantically. To most, it might seem clear – but he was flabbergasted.
It was hard to have a fight with your boyfriend, Christine found – if she could even call him that – when he was her teacher all day at school. While she wanted to torment him at home because he had upset her, she found she was forced to sit through a whole day of his teaching. She was in a total huff with him, ignoring him as he spoke, crossing her arms over her chest and pointedly looking away from him.
Erik sighed and tried to continue teaching. It would be a strange day…
"Meg, can I borrow your phone?" a friend asked behind her, while she was distracted with telling several others of her almost-two weeks in Florence.
She nodded, though she wasn't really paying attention, and it slipped her notice as, slowly, people began to move away from where she was leaning over a desk describing her holiday, to the area behind her where her friend with her phone was sitting. But the gasps could only escape her notice for so long and then she whirled around in her seat, finding everybody there open-mouthed, their attention fixed upon the little screen. "What are you looking at? Oh, my God," she whispered, shocked, grabbing the phone back and turning it in time to see the video of Christine being kissed by their teacher and her foster father.
"I knew they were at it!" someone exclaimed loudly at the back, as though they had known all along.
"You did not!"
"Oh, come on… it's obvious!"
"What's going on in here?" Erik shouted as he found his class in disarray after lunch, leading Christine back into the room by the hand, unfortunately only making the situation worse. While she had been angry at him earlier, when it came to lunch, she'd followed him to eat together – something he'd found much to his pleasing – and they'd actually managed to steal a kiss in the toilets while everyone was in the canteen, though they'd agreed they shouldn't do that often. "What are you doing? Meghan," he said, turning to look at her, "as well you should know, you are not allowed your phone in school."
Seeing the look on Meg's face, Christine pushed to the front, before Erik, and approached her friend hesitantly, touching her shoulder. "Meg? Meg, what is it?" Meg just stared at her, her surprise still apparent on her face, and guilt over the situation making her feel sick as the other girls started giggling at Christine.
So she reluctantly handed her phone over to her best friend as Erik shouted at his class to be quiet. "I'm sorry," Meg whispered as she looked Christine right in the eye. She had never meant for it to go this far…
Unable to keep any sort of control over his own class, where once he could silence them with a single look, Erik gave up on them as a couple ran off, out of the room, and he focused his attention on his distraught seraph. "What is it, sweetheart?" he asked gently, pulling her back against him so he could see the phone over her shoulder and watch what was upsetting her.
And truly, Christine's worst nightmare had come true… Erik was going to be in so much trouble. And yet, it was her heart that fluttered, and her stomach that turned, and her tears that coursed down her cheeks in agony. "Meg, how could you?" she bit out quietly, choking on her own tears. Then she turned in her Angel's arms and let him comfort her, burying her face in his chest. "Erik, what'll we do?"
He was uncertain, taking a moment to think as he pulled her out into the relative privacy of the hallway, and immediately his mind started running through all the logical, possible scenarios available to them. And in that moment, he concluded that it would always be better for Christine that he take full responsibility and face the consequences.
They were distracted by a man clearing his throat and both turned their heads to look at him. "Mr. Phelps-Jones, I'd like to see you in my office now," the Headmaster announced, a disapproving look upon his face as he rounded the corner and found them together. Obviously, someone had run and told him. "Christine… Pauline, in Reception, will take care of you."
"No, Christine comes," Erik argued.
"You would drag her into such an uncomfortable position?"
"You don't know Christine as I do… she will find this the lesser of the two evils."
He looked at the girl for reassurance of that and nodded finally, leading the way back to his office. "I suppose you will have the decency not to deny it…" he started when the pair of them were seated before his desk, though he continued to pace.
"I don't deny a thing."
"I cannot believe you!" he shouted suddenly, incensed. "You slept with a student! Have you any idea…?"
"Oh, no – no, no, no – I did not sleep with her… it was only ever a kiss." Erik shook his head fiercely and took hold of Christine's hand. Perhaps it was not the best idea, but he could not bear to have people think he was capable of taking advantage of her like that.
Sceptically, the Headmaster gave him a challenging look and relented as Erik did not waver. So he calmed somewhat – after all, they could explain away a single kiss, couldn't they? They could not explain away the two of them actually having sex. "Well… as you know, I am obliged to report this before the end of the day. I suggest you use the little time you have to make arrangements for Christine to stay with someone else for the foreseeable future."
"What?" she gasped, feeling her whole world crashing down.
"I am sure Mrs. Giry will be happy to take her from me," Erik commented sourly.
Christine shook her head immediately and squeezed Erik's hand more tightly. "No. I am not going with them – you cannot make me stay with Meg when she did this, Angel. I simply won't do it."
He nodded, turning to look at her. "And I'd cut off my own arm before I'd allow you to be taken away."
"Erik… you are treading on very thing ice. Don't be so hasty… how about we ask Piers instead? Surely, he and Christine are acquainted well enough after all these years…"
"She isn't leaving her own home – she has down nothing wrong and will not be treated as if she has." He glared furiously at the man for wanted so much to take his Christine away from him. There was no way in hell that he was going to give her up when he'd only just gotten to a more romantic level with her.
"Certainly, Christine, you shouldn't feel you did anything wrong…" the Headmaster reaffirmed.
"I don't feel either of us did anything wrong… it was totally consensual."
He sighed and ran his hand across his face in frustration – never had he expected to have to deal with such a situation in his whole working career. "Don't you realise you could go to prison for this, Erik?"
"I am aware of that possibility, yes."
"You realise you could get two to four years for having a relationship with a pupil? And that's without adding in that you're her foster father… Lord knows what you'll get then. They'll make an example of you."
He nodded and clutched Christine's hand all the tighter as they both almost cut off the circulation in each other's hands because of the strength with which they strived to stay together. "I know that, yes."
"All I can say is that you're damned lucky this was stopped before you'd done anything further… you might just get out of this without her being taken away from you. I have no choice but to suspend you until further notice." Walking to the door of his office, he turned briefly while opening the door, as though he was going to say something, but thought better of it and continued out of the room, leaving them to wallow in their worry.
Christine turned to her Angel and broke down in his arms, sobbing as he stroked her back in comfort. "I love you," he whispered, squeezing her upper body tightly against him. "It'll all be alright, my beautiful Christine."
"I never thought… in all my worrying about this, I never thought people would find out this quickly. It's all my fault…"
"How can you think that?" he asked softly.
"If I hadn't persuaded you to stay in Florence with me, we wouldn't be in this mess…"
"Darling, you could not have predicted that this would happen… you could not have known that Meg would do what she did. It is my fault for kissing you that way after we'd gotten off of the plane… if I had stuck to what you wanted, it would be different now. I ask you to forgive me."
"Angel–"
"No," he said quickly, shaking his head. He really did know her too well. "Just forgive me, nothing more…"
"I forgive you. Angel, I love you." Placing her arms around his neck, she pulled him so tightly against herself that she only mourned her inability to exist with him as one entity, and refused to let go, hugging him so tightly he wondered if he could drive home like that. For surely – surely – she would consent to coming with him after he'd cleared out his desk… he didn't think she'd want to stay there. And while he was terrified of what they would try to do to his Christine because of him, a small part of him was happy that their relationship was out in the open. He wanted nothing more than to be allowed to show love and affection for her whenever he wanted – not just when he had made sure that they were completely alone, with no chance of being overheard or suspected of anything.
"Darling, will you come home with me now?" he asked, needing to make sure. "If you'd prefer to stay at a friend's house, I will understand… but this will be difficult, and I want you home with me so that we can take care of each other. I need your support, Christine. I crumble without you."
"How can you think I'd go with anyone but you? Even now, don't you know that my loyalties lie with you alone?"
"I only want you to have the choice, Christine… you always deserve that."
"And I'll always choose you."
Forever, he had been finding her in the most seemingly uncomfortable places at night. She would turn up in the oddest places, apparently sleeping soundly and he would wonder how on earth she could manage it.
He had just come downstairs this time to find her curled up on top of an extension cable. At first, he had been slightly worried, then he thought it was adorable that she could be so tired to fall asleep there. So he lifted her delicately into his arms, smiling down upon her beautiful face as he carried upstairs to bed. He reasoned that she would be more comfortable there and he didn't want her getting cold in the middle of the night, or frightened that he was not right in the next room.
Not ten minutes later, she'd appeared at the door to his study, looking delightful in her tiredness, and he gasped at how remarkable it felt just to see her everyday. Bringing her into his arms, he dabbed the tired girl on the nose and laughed as she yawned quietly, too overcome with her exhaustion to speak to him and tell him what was wrong. He rocked her gently for a time and just as she was falling asleep again, he stood to put her to bed, only to find that she stirred more than he'd intended and sat right up in his arms. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he murmured thoughtfully.
"I can't sleep in bed."
"Why not?"
"My mattress is boring…"
"Boring?" he laughed joyously, amused at such a silly, yet obvious, comment. Of course mattresses were boring… they were mattresses.
"Yes," she answered seriously, and he tried to stifle his amusement to spare her feelings.
"Is my mattress more or less boring?" he asked after a moment, curious as to what constituted a boring mattress.
She thought about it for a minute, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as she did so and chewed her bottom lip ever so beautifully. "Your mattress is slightly less boring than mine," she concluded.
He laughed again, wondering how she had decided that, and kissed her on the nose in his fondness. "Do you want to sleep in my bed, then?"
She considered that for a moment and gave in to her tiredness, nodding her head for him to take her to his room.
Relinquishing his precious cargo upon the bed, he pulled the covers up around her affectionately, and found himself lost in her innocence, slowly sitting down beside her as he was unable to look away. "How lovely," he murmured and leaned to kiss her forehead even as he stroked her hair gently. Seeing her like that – looking so peaceful – he started feeling tired himself and stood up, unwillingly drawing his eyes away from her as he was forced to go to the wardrobe to change into his pyjamas.
When he was done, he slipped in beside her happily and drew her against him, sighing in contentment as he felt himself start to drift off to sleep. "I love you," he whispered as he placed his chin on her shoulder.
And he knew no more until morning and he began to wake to the oddest feeling of his feet being leaden and heavy. He tried moving them but found himself unable to do so, and that worried him into total wakefulness as he sprang up into a sitting position and searched the half-light desperately with his tired eyes to make sure his feet were alright. And as he ran his hands along the lump present over his ankles, he found it groaned, which surprised his tired mind and he jumped back slightly until he realised that Christine was no longer in his arms, or even beside him in the bed. "Darling," he said softly as he uncovered the little lump and ran his hand through the length of curls that surfaced.
She stirred and moved in such a way that all of the circulation suddenly returned to his feet and he wriggled around in the discomfort, succeeding only in making her sit up and glare at him. "Stop kicking me," she complained quietly, yawning as she turned over and curled back up on his feet.
"You're on my ankles, Christine," he said almost sheepishly as he wondered where she had learned to glare so unnervingly at such a young age. Perhaps she has picked up some of my habits, he mused, looking on helplessly as she ignored him. He gave one final token struggle to remove his feet from underneath her and then promptly gave up and flopped back against his pillows to see if he could sleep again for a little while.
And when, at last, bedtime the next night came, Erik was only marginally surprised to find Christine already lying under the covers in his bed. He sighed, though not unhappily, and got in beside her, finding it endearing as she repositioned herself on his feet again and seemed to go right back to sleep. It amused him how she slept so soundly in a position of discomfort.
And this continued on for several nights at least, Erik finding he was pinned down by his feet every morning when he woke up. As the same routine played out, he leaned forward over her, slightly wondering why he was bothering, and tapped her gently. "Christine, you're on my ankles again, sweetheart…"
"Mmm… be quiet, Angel, I'm sleeping."
"Christine, my darling little girl," he tried again, nudging her slightly with one hand. "Christine, you're lying on me again, my sweet child."
Groaning, she rolled over onto her other side to escape his gentle prodding, though still on his ankles, and drifted right back to sleep.
He sighed and resigned himself to not being able to get up until she was quite ready to move. It was not an awful thing… it did not make him annoyed – it was not frustrating. As far as he was concerned, his little seraph had just one more nuance of her character that he had the ability to explore and love. She was darling, he thought.
And he still thought so later that day even as he limped around the living room and tried to put as little weight on each foot as he could – which led to a rather interesting little display for Christine to watch from her place in the doorway.
"You're silly, Angel," she laughed.
He smiled back at her, finally slumping down on the sofa. "Thank you."
She approached him as he beckoned her over, and hopped up into his arms, considerate enough not to land on the foot he was nursing. He gave up doing so and wrapped his arms around her, watching in amazed affection for her as she lifted his foot delicately into her delicate little hands and started massaging them. She could be so sweet, he knew, but this really shouldn't concern her when she was just a child and should not want to care for him.
As she soothed the dull, throbbing ache, he felt himself drifting off and leaned back with her unconsciously, almost reaching a state of complete peacefulness when she spoke to him. He had to concentrate very hard just to work out what she'd said, and then rubbed his hand across his face, keeping his eyes closed even as he wondered what she was talking about.
"Angel, you like me to make up my own mind about things, don't you?" she had asked him.
"Yes," he answered tentatively, unsure what he was getting into by saying so.
"You like me to have a choice…"
He was completely unaware of where she was taking this and frowned, pulling her back closer to him as he tried to get more comfortable. "Yes. I always like you to have your choice, Christine."
"And I'll always choose you… and your ankles," she added as an afterthought.
He blinked his eyes open quickly and stared at her, though she appeared to have fallen asleep in that relatively brief period of time. What a girl…
"Do you remember when I used to sleep on your ankles?"
"Yes," he said, smiling at the fond memory he had just been thinking about. He found it a beautiful thing that they could both think of the same thing at the same time. "You have had some very odd sleeping habits in your time."
"How did you ever get me out of that habit?
"One day you just weren't there anymore when I wakened up… I missed you," he admitted solemnly, suddenly sad at the less welcome memory. "You decided you preferred sleeping somewhere else from then on, and I…" He trailed off, unable to finish, even though the memory had been a sentimental one.
"What, Angel? You can tell me," she reassured, rubbing his back. "I'd never judge you."
"Promise you won't laugh at me."
"I could never laugh at something that hurts you this much."
"I cried… you had been doing it for months and I was so comforted by your presence, though I hadn't realised it until afterwards, that I waited up the next night for you to come. And when you didn't… I cried."
"Don't be ashamed," she said softly. "I think that's sweet."
He tried to smile for her and shook his head sadly. "That was it… you never did it again – not once. It seems stupid but I felt like you'd rejected me – like you'd grown tired of me. You knew there was something upsetting me – but you were just a child and you didn't know what it was… oh, but did you ever try to make me feel better. You did everything you could think of," he said fondly. She was truly a princess, he mused, thinking about her penchant for sleeping on uncomfortable objects. Though, unlike the fairytale, she was one who preferred the reassuring discomfort of the pea to its absence.
"Come on, Angel… everyone should be out of your room now – let's get it over with and get going. I'd like to be prepared when people start asking questions."
"You are right, of course," he agreed, standing up with her, and refusing to let go of her as they made their way back to his classroom. He was terrified that someone was going to try to take her away from him and he was unconsciously counting the seconds that passed until he had her back in his car, the doors securely locked, and them on their way home.
"It'll be alright," Christine tried to reassure him, squeezing his knee even as he was driving. He found she calmed him, but he still could not shake the desperation seeping through him that she might be removed from his care. In that case, nothing would be alright… he'd die without her constant presence, especially now that he knew she loved him almost as much as he loved her. He knew that if he wasn't allowed to see her again, that would seal his fate.
And finally he snapped, angry at everyone else, though they were not there for him to shout at like she was, and he grumbled angrily, "I don't know how you can be so blasé about this."
She looked at him sadly and put her hand on his shoulder, admitting, "If I am anything less than indifferent, I fear I will be inconsolable…"
Shaking his head, he drew in a deep breath and kicked himself for hurting the one person who was not to blame in any of this – the one person who mattered at all.
That night, Erik fell asleep fitfully in his own bed, suffering a terrible withdrawal from Christine. He had thought it best they sleep separately until everything was sorted out to avoid provoking further suspicion – not that anyone would ever see them… Truly, he could not explain such thinking – all he could say was that he was trying to do the best by her. He had, somehow, eventually, fallen asleep, though it did not seem to be resting him much, and he was quite uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, sighing lightly, Christine wrapped the edges of the soft blanket around her more tightly to ward off the cold of the night air, and she pushed open the adjoining door between her room and her Angel's. She had to do right by him, she knew. He was going through a lot at the minute, what with the blossoming of their romantic relationship and the threat of dismissal and even a criminal conviction hanging over his head. She didn't dare think about what they'd do if they were separated… just now, all she could offer him was herself and her comfort. And with that thought in mind, she entered her Angel's room purposefully, trying not to wake him as she crawled on top of his bed and on top of him over the covers, even as he stirred. Repositioning slightly as she wrapped the blankets more around herself, she curled up in a ball over his feet and snuggled into the long abandoned, but familiar, position upon him, noticing as he settled. It was a beautiful sight to her.
© Copyright of CrawfordsBiscuits, August 2006
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