A/N: Just a little filler chapter. Grace makes an appearance!:D More to come soon (I always say that. There probably won't be. Like usual!) Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review! ~Ciara/LittleBooLost xx

No less than a day later, Connie found herself in Devon, picking Grace up from her boarding school. The reunion had been sweet – and emotional. Connie was almost expecting Grace to curse or hit her, like she'd been doing to her teachers and peers. On the contrary, the second she saw her mother in the school reception she dropped her bags, sprinted forwards and threw herself into Connie's arms. Connie hugged her daughter so tightly she half feared that she was squeezing the air right out of the little girl's lungs. When she let go, she held Grace at arm's length, eyes seeking out every tiny difference on her body that had appeared during the separation. Her legs were too long for her jeans. Her brown eyes had become flecked with gold. Her dimples were less pronounced when she smiled.

'You've gotten so big…' Connie murmured, cupping Grace's pale face in her hands. 'When did you get so grown up?'

Grace chewed on her lip and shrugged. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled away, getting the battered little Samsung out.

Connie sighed. Well, that was one thing that hadn't changed. 'Gracie, honey, there'll be time for talking to your friends later. Come on. Get your stuff picked up and we'll go.'

/-/-/

'Mum?' Grace asked, cramming a chicken nugget into her mouth as she eyed the thick cast on her mother's wrist.

'Yes, darling?'

'What happened to your arm?'

Connie tore her gaze from the motorway for a split second. 'Don't speak with your mouth full.'

Grace rolled her eyes and swallowed the last morsel of chicken. 'There. What happened to your arm?'

'It's just a little fracture, sweetheart.'

'How did it happen?' Grace smirked slightly, dunking a greasy chip in a pot of ketchup and swirling it round.

Having sensed a long time ago that this would come up, Connie wet her lips with her tongue and uttered the lie she'd come up with days ago. 'I tripped over.'

'Did you forget to tie your laces?'

'No, Gracie, I didn't.'

'Did you forgot how to tie your laces?' Grace giggled as her mum pulled a face.

'You little brat!' Laughing, Connie reached over and swiped a chip from Grace's happy meal.

Instead of complaining playfully like Connie was expecting, Grace pressed her lips into an irritated, thin line. 'Don't call me a brat. That's what the caretaker called me.'

Connie matched her sour expression. 'I'm not surprised. You trashed his office.'

'But he shouted at me for touching the art display!' Grace wailed.

'Not the point. Grace, you knocked his desk lamp onto the floor. It could have started a fire!'

'Maybe it would've burnt down his stupid art display.'

'This is not something to joke about. You could have put everybody's lives at risk!'

'I don't get what the big deal is anyway!' Grace spat. 'I never did anything wrong!'

'Oh, spare me the excuses!' Connie glared at her daughter. 'You did a lot wrong and I am very disappointed!

'Hmph.' Grace huffed, sliding down in her seat. 'At least it got me out of that stupid school.' She shoved the leftovers of her meal into the bag, and scrunched it up furiously.

'It was not a stupid school Grace! It was prestigious! Do you know how much money it cost to send you there?'

'Yes, I do actually. It was £3,500 per term.'

Connie bit her tongue, and gripped the steering wheel tighter to prevent herself from making a spiteful remark. Her daughter was far too insolent for her own good. She took a deep breath to compose herself, and counted to ten.

'Is that how you speak to your teachers?'

'What?' Grace looked up. 'What do you mean?'

'Are you just rude to me because I'm your mother, or are you rude to everyone?'

Grace shrugged, and Connie sighed. 'I'll take that as a yes, then.'

'Hey!' Grace's eyes were blazing with fury. 'I'm not rude to my art teacher!'

'Oh!' Connie looked round, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. 'Why ever not?'

'Because she's the only one who's nice to me! She draws with me, and helps me with my homework, and pays attention when I'm sad!'

Connie scoffed and shook her head. 'Not good enough, Grace. Everyone pays attention to you. All your teachers have spent the last six months trying to get to the bottom of your inane behaviour. Miss Jenkins offered you a place in the homework club so you could catch up, but you refused to go. You have absolutely no respect for your elders and I will not put up with it any longer!'

'Yeah, well I don't care what you think! You're stupid and a bitch and I wish you wasn't my mum!'

Too angry to process what her daughter had just said, Connie just laughed humourlessly. 'See? It's all rudeness and disrespect from your mouth. I don't want to hear another peep out of you until we get home.'

'But-'

'Quiet!'

/-/-/

The rest of the journey home was simply a tense, stony silence. When they got into the house, Connie sent Grace up to her bedroom to unpack. The girl stomped up the stairs furiously, her rucksack slamming against the banister as she went. Each crash reverberated through the house and Connie's skull, and the doctor rubbed her forehead tiredly. Slipping her feet out of the only pair of flats she owned, she padded into the kitchen in search of a packet of paracetamol and a strong coffee.

A few minutes later the woman curled up on the sofa, her chipped Minnie Mouse mug on the coffee table and her phone in her hand. Upstairs, she could hear the burble of Grace's TV, and the sound of One Direction blaring through her speakers. It was already beginning to sound like a dull roar. Clearly, no unpacking was getting done. With no energy to intervene, Connie simply resigned herself to the fact that Grace's presence would always be apparent, even if she was not in the room.

Mulling over these thoughts, Connie picked up her mug and inhaled the strong coffee fumes. It instantly woke her up a bit, and taking a small sip, she noticed the text message that had flashed up on the screen.

Hope the drive to Devon went well and Grace is doing alright. Want to bring the little tyke over tonight? I'll cook and put on a movie. R xx