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Chapter 50
By Susan Brown
Previously…
“Yes, I was so surprised I cried my eyes out,” said Sarah, finally coming to life, “I thought that I had lost everybody but in the end I found my grandmother. Mind you she hates being called that so I call her Mummy and she is really because she adopted me, though she didn’t need to. Then I said I wanted to pay her back for being so sweet and let me live as a girl–I so hated being called Mark, I’m officially Sarah now by the way. Anyway, I said that I wanted to be her maid so that I could help her, because she said that when she was a girl, her Mummy made her be a maid for a bit to help her learn humility and not be so much of a prig…”
“SARAH!”
Sarah stopped mid flow and looked at Dotty.
“Mummy?”
“Samantha and Abby don’t want to hear you prattlin’ on like that. I think that your tutor will be ready for you now.” She said looking at her watch.
“Oh Mummee!”
“Enough of that young lady. I told you when you stopped this maid nonsense that you would do more studyin’ I still think that it was a ploy to stop yer goin’ ter lessons, now scoot or I’ll get yer to muck out the stables.”
“Okaaay,” sniffed Sarah and then she gave us a big smile. “Byeee!” she said, gave a little flappy wave and then rushed from the room.
Dotty looked fondly after her retreating back, then turned to us.
“She may be as nutty as a fruitcake, but she’s my nutcase!”
And now the story continues…
I stayed with Dotty in the big old house for another two days. Things were quiet on the poison pen letter front as Nigel had vehemently denied any wrong doing when interviewed on the matter and it appeared that it was going to be difficult to prove who actually did do it. When Katie rang me, she was of the opinion that unless we could catch Nigel or one of his minions actually doing the dastardly deed, they would get away with it. So there I was, wondering whether I should go home and whether I was safe at Penmarris anymore. When a thing like this happens, it kind of knocks your confidence to say the least, but I hated the idea of being hounded out and things would have to get a lot worse before I ever considered leaving this idyllic spot.
Sarah, now she was out of maid mode and not the eternal cockney sparrow, was a charming girl. I heard more about what she had been through over the next couple of days. Like the fact that Dotty took her to a clinic to try and untangle the mess her mind had turned into after the drinks and the drugs. Sarah was now under a doctor who prescribed her some blocking drugs that would stop her male development until she was old enough to have reassignment surgery, if that’s what she wanted. The doctor of course was Marcia, our resident transgender consultant, as it were. I did wonder how many more people in a Penmarris were transgendered, what with myself, Sarah, and the daughter of Candice being the ones that I knew already. How many more were there and is there such a thing as a transgender hot spot?
Dotty’s mansion was set in lovely grounds, with two large lakes, a formal garden, extensive pastures not to mention wildlife which included deer, pheasants and of course, moles. I saw Abby as much as possible, but as she had a business to run and was also overseeing the work that Arthur Potts was doing on my gallery, I didn’t see a much of her as I would’ve liked to have done. She did come every evening though and shared that gorgeous bed.
Marcia came to visit the day after that most enlightening dinner where Sarah had told her moving story.
I was in the bedroom lying down when she knocked on the door.
“Come in.” I called.
“Hello, Marcia,” I cried, pleased to see her.
“Hi, Samantha,” she said as she walked over to the bed, “how are you feeling?”
“Not too bad. I still feel very tired and a bit unsteady on my feet. Also my heart’s beating very fast, but other than that, all right.”
She sat on the bed facing me. I wondered what she was going to say and if anything my heart beat even quicker.
“Well, your results have come through and it is as we thought. You have an overactive thyroid which needs sorting out as soon as possible. I’ve put you into the clinic at the hospital for the end of next week–Friday, that is. Mister Ali is the consultant and he is one of the best specialists in the West Country for this condition. In the meantime, here are the pills you must take. They should alleviate the symptoms but we need to sort out the underlying cause. Take two tablets now and two before bedtime and in the same tomorrow until you see the specialist, okay?”
“Well I need an operation?” I said with trepidation. I freely admit that I was in the first division of scaredy cats!
“You may, but it would be the final option. Nowadays, we try to use less intrusive treatment for this condition.”
We talked a bit more about my thyroid problem and what it meant to me. Once I am stabilised, I should be able to lead a more or less normal life. The only downside being, that it would be likely that I would be on pills for the rest of my life. This, is in addition to pills that I was taking for my gender problems, meant that if I shake myself I could probably hear the pills rattling!
After Marcia left, I went for a walk around the grounds with Dotty. She wanted to know what Marcia had said and I was quick to let her know what my condition was and how it would be treated.
“It’s amazin’ what those doctors can do now. In my day, there weren’t many options if yer fell ill.”
She looked sad at that and I wondered who amongst her friends or family had died of some dreadful illness. Was it her husband?–no I think she said that he died serving his country; perhaps it was her sister? I didn’t know and I really did not want to pry. If she wanted to tell me, she would. Then I smiled as we turned to more pleasant subjects as Sarah breezed up, wearing riding gear. She looked very smart in her jodhpurs, pristine white blouse and riding jacket. She was carrying a riding hat in one hand and a crop in the other.
“Hi,” she said excitedly, “Jocaster’s picking me up with her girls and we’re going riding. Mummy, you did say if I liked riding I could have a pony?”
“Only if yer don’t keep fallin’ orf and keep up with your lessons. Remember what I said about going to school?”
“Yes, Mummy,” she sighed and then turned to me. “I thought that I would get away with not going to school, but Mummy said that I need to integrate a bit more, so I’m off to school in a few days with Jen and Phil Gotobed.”
“You’ll enjoy school. It will keep you out of mischief too.” I replied with a smile.
“You sound just like Mummy.” She sniffed and then grinned. “I wonder if teachers like jokes?”
“SARAH! You do not play tricks on teachers, d’yer here?”
“Yes, Mummy...ooh look there’s Jocaster’s car, see you both later.”
With a quick kiss on the cheek for both of us, she rushed off and after a quick wave at the retreating car, we carried on with our walk.
Dotty was chuckling for some reason.
“What?”
“Sarah’s just like me. I got up to all sort of mischief when I was at school. I don’t know, when she’s around I feel an awful lot older!”
After a pleasant few nights at Dotty’s it was considered safe to go home. I was feeling a bit better as the pills started working their magic and it was felt that the poison pen letter problem should not happen anymore and even if they did start appearing, well then everybody that mattered knew about me so any harm that they might cause would be minimised.
It was nice to return to my cottage again. The first thing I did was make myself a cup of tea, go up to my studio, slide open the patio doors and sit on the rickety chair. I breathed in the sea air and felt invigorated. It being quite late in the season now, the beaches were not so full. There were very few children about as they had all gone back to school now. I wondered how Sarah was getting on at school. I was sure, with her bubbly personality, that she would fit in well and enjoy school life. I don’t think that I would like to be a teacher in her class!
There was a distinctive chill in the air now that summer was finally coming to an end and I wondered, once again, what it would be like here in the winter–once all the tourists had gone. I was looking forward to seeing how much things would change in the winter. I had been told that it never really got really cold in this area and snow was rare. However, being the on the south west coast meant that there would be some fierce storms and I worried for David and the other members of the lifeboat crew when they inevitably had to go out on call in those huge seas that battered the coastline.
I remembered the promise I made myself that I would do a painting for the lifeboat station and present it to the coxswain at an appropriate time. I finished drinking my tea and then went back inside.
As I was feeling so much better now, I decided to go on a short walk up onto the hills overlooking the Cove. I put on some sensible shoes and took my yellow banana anorak with me, just in case of rain, and made my way up the track to the coastal path. It was a bit chilly up there as the sun had now started to lose some of its warmth and clouds were bubbling up from the west. But it was still nice on the cliff top with flowers still dotted along the path and everything green and pleasant. Some of the leaves were falling from the trees now and it wouldn’t be long before autumn stripped the trees of their finery.
I sat down on one of the numerous seats overlooking the Cove and the sea down below. It seemed that wherever I went in this lovely area I would find places that I would love to paint and this was another one, I wished that I had brought my pencils and drawing pad with me now. I wasn’t that disappointed though, as I would have many opportunities of painting the scenery around here, so there was no need to be in such a hurry.
Shivering slightly as the wind coming off the sea was now getting somewhat cooler, I put on my nylon anorak–struggling with the sleeves as I always did. I carried on strolling along the cliff path, more contented and I had been for a long while. Yes, I had problems, but they paled into insignificance, compared to what others had to go through–like Sarah for instance. I knew a time would come soon when I would have to face Nigel and Olivia again and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I also had grave concerns about the baby that she was carrying. But mine was an optimistic character and in spite of all my trials and tribulations, I would get through all of this stronger, wiser and, hopefully, happier.
After strolling on for another twenty minutes, scaring a few rabbits on the way, I turned back as I was getting slightly tired. It didn’t seem to take quite so long going back and I soon found myself home in my little cottage. I took off my anorak and then went upstairs to the bedroom. Lying down on the bed, I sighed slightly and must have fallen asleep.
“Hello!”
I jumped slightly as Abby came into the room.
“Hello, sleepyhead. It’s all right for you lying here fast asleep when everyone else is working. I suppose I have to make my own tea too?”
I yawned and stretched.
“Hello, honey, what time is it?”
“Six o’clock; have you been asleep all this time?”
“Mmm, I went for a walk along the cliff and then found I got a bit tired so I just thought I would have forty winks.”
“Forty winks, more like four hundred! Look, I don’t fancy cooking tonight, do you, love?”
“No, shall we go down to the Toad and Tart and have a basket meal?”
“Yes, that sounds splendid. Shall I change?”
“You’d better; your skirt’s got a bit crumpled.”
Looking down, I realised that I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing a crumpled skirt! I quickly changed into a clean blouse and skirt. Then I freshened my makeup and brushed my hair–now I felt like a new woman–well not new but less yuckie, anyway.
Making our way down to the harbour, it was very evident that the weather was on the turn. It was decidedly chilly and the wind had grown stronger. Heavy clouds were scudding across the sky at a rapid rate.
“It looks like going to have a bit of a blustery night,” said Abby.
“I hope that David and the crew don’t have to go out tonight.”
“Yes, it would be awful, let’s hurry down to the pub.”
As we approached the Toad and Tart, the lights from within was showing harshly against the now darkening sky. I was glad that I had brought my old faithful banana anorak now; I had a feeling that I might need it.
As we opened the door, we were assaulted by the noise was coming from inside. There are a series of hello’s from the mainly regulars and mine host. We ordered our drinks; I had an orange and lemonade and Abby had a gin and tonic. We then made our way through the crowds and upstairs to the small lounge overlooking the harbour.
“Cooee!” we heard as we reached the top of the stairs. Looking over, I could see Katie, Marcia, and Millie sitting at a table over the corner. We joined them and said, “Hi.”
After much scraping of chairs, we all managed to sit around the table. I ordered chicken and chips in a basket and chatted to the others while we waited for our orders.
“Feeling a bit better then?” asked Millie.
“Yes, not too bad. I went for a walk along the cliff top today and it was nice but I was quite tired by the end of it.”
“Well you would be, silly!” said Marcia, “didn’t I tell you not to do wild things like that yet?”
“Sorry, I just got carried away.”
“Don’t be so nasty, Marcia,” said Abby, “she knows she can’t stop being silly sometimes.”
“You are talking about me you know and I am here!”
“My dear Samantha,” said Katie tapping my hand, “we are talking about you, not to you.”
We all laughed at that but all talk stopped as we were served our meals.
As I munched on my chicken bone, I looked outside. It had started raining rather hard, and I could barely see the far ends of the Cove, in the mist and the rain. A gusty wind was blowing the rain against the windows making a tapping sound that was getting noisier as the weather worsened.
“I’m glad I’m not out there.” I said.
“Yes, the weather is foul isn’t it? said Abby, “it gets like this sometimes, if the wind is against the tide it can be very treacherous. I think it may be in for the night. I’m glad we’ve brought our coats with us.”
We stayed there for some time and if anything, the weather got worse. At about nine o’clock, I could barely stay awake and I was ordered to go home by Marcia–always the Doctor.
After saying goodbye to our friends, we made our way up the lane to my cottage as fast as we could, considering the atrocious weather. We let ourselves in and shut the door behind us and the sound of the rain and wind lessened considerably.
To be honest I was completely exhausted by then, and Abby had to help me get ready for bed. As we snuggled up in our nighties, with no thoughts of anything more than sleep–more’s the pity, the wind was howling, as a full scale storm was raging outside. Occasional flashes of lightening could be seen through the closed curtains and rumbles of thunder could be heard rolling around the cove; I was so pleased that we were in here and not outside.
As sometimes happens when you are really tired, I couldn’t sleep and was a bit annoyed that I could hear Abby’s gentle snores near my ear as she was spooned up into my back.
How could she sleep like this when the heavens were moving the furniture about outside?
In the end, I got up and made my way downstairs, nearly killing myself in the gloom when I stepped on some moving fur–a cat–! Now how did it find its way inside like that? I wondered if it might be a cat burglar and giggled at that thought as I made my way to the kitchen, turned on the light and put some milk on to boil. There was a sort of knocking noise coming from somewhere and I frowned, hoping that it wasn’t a window banging or a pipe knocking against the wall. I couldn’t be bothered to look, so I concentrated on making my drink.
Hot chocolate was the order of the day, or was that night? I very much hoped that it might help me get some sleep. I had no idea where the cat went, but assumed that it would make its way to our bed and lie on Abby; it had happened before and no doubt would keep happening until I discovered out how the moggies found their way in–
I was yawning slightly as I poured hot milk into the mug containing a helping of my favourite Green & Black’s organic hot chocolate granules. That noise was still persisting and it was bothering me for some reason. I went to the window and looked out. Apart from the rain hitting the window there was no sign of it coming from there. Then I walked over the door leading out to the passage. The knocking seemed to be louder here. I opened the door and switched the light on. The passage led down a few steps to the front door. The knocking had stopped. Listening for a moment I couldn’t hear anything so I just shrugged and turned away.
Then I heard it again. A knock—knock—knock. It was coming from the front door.
I was in an agony of indecision. My heart started thumping again and I felt a cold sweat on my brow. The knocking stopped. I held my breath, straining to hear any further noise over and above the roar of the filthy night outside.
Nothing.
Then I did the bravest or, perhaps more accurately, the stupidest thing that I would ever do: I went to the front door, put the chain on and cracked the door open. I expected to see some heavy bruiser there, perhaps shotgun in hand, ready to blast away and end my life. I recoiled as the wind and rain hit my scantily clad body. Shivering, I peered out. There was nobody there. I sighed with relief and was just about to close the door, when I heard a faint moan. Was that a cat making that noise? No cat should be out on a night like this, so I took the chain off the door and opened it up a bit more. It wasn’t very light outside, the nearest lamp post being about fifty feet away. I could not see a cat but then I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a foot, by the side of the path. Someone was lying, just out of my sight, behind the low brick wall that bordered the front of my small garden.
Could it be a trick? Did someone want to lure me out to attack me? No, whoever it was; was lying on the ground and I could hear more moaning. Someone was in trouble and I had to help. With no more thoughts of personal safety, I ran out in my thin nightie and slippers–shivering in the wet and cold–down the steps and out into the lane.
Someone was lying there face down–a woman with long blond hair who was lying in a foetal position and moaning. I got on my hands and knees and tried to turn her over.
“Let me help you,” I called, trying to make myself heard over the howling of the wind.
My hair kept getting in my eyes and the rain wasn’t helping any either, but I finally managed to turn her over. I nearly screamed when I saw who it was–Olivia!
Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue
My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.
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Comments
A stranger in the stormy night.
What, is she having a childbirth already?! And, what is she doing there in Penmarris Cove anyway???
You sure know how to pick them, Sue! And how to hang us as well!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Wow!
Interesting turn of events, then you end it. This tale is beginning to have more twists and turns than some switchback roads I've driven. The worst part is you left us hanging... AGAIN!
I know Samantha and she will get help for Olivia. No one, even soon to be exes, should be out on a cold and stormy night. I believe, Olivia is acting on her own. I can't believe even evil Nigel would encourage his pregnant daughter to pull a stunt like this. But the real question is Why did Olivia come to Samantha's?
Hugs,
Trish-Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
No Doubt About It,
Olivia ran to Samantha for some reason. We will soon find out why,but is Samantha's thyroid condition because of the pills that she's taking? Could she be like Mark/Susan?
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Which Channel?
On TV is this on? I think it would make a lovely soap.
Samantha will not deny Olivia whatever help she needs, because she's just too nice.
Maybe this is where we find out who sent the poison pen letters, and wouldn't that be a blow to Nigel if it was him or his henchmen?
Joanne
Once upon a midnite dreary
tired insomniac and bleary,
I'd removed myself from the bed in which
my paramour oh so gently snored...
When all at once there came a pounding,
Faint at first but then resounding,
Pounding, pounding upon my cottage door.
Was it some heartless mocking raven?
Nigel's henchmen my head to stave in?
Dear young Sarah in dreadsome trouble-
"Them awful moles 'ave gotten ter me Mummy, Cor!"
In the gloom I espied a figure;
ten hands tall, perhaps, no bigger.
And turning her over she was revealled to be
the very last person I'd expect to see;
My former love and very own bete noir...
Wow Susan, what's this all about?!
Has Nigel turned on his own daughter after she'd balked at his plan to murder Sam?
I dunno, but these are the kind of surprises that make this story such a treat...
~~~hugs, Laika
What borders on pure insanity?
Canada and Mexico.
.
Surprisingly Poetic
Not bad, Laika! I think you have a bit of talent in the ol' poetry department, even if you were just trying to churn out a bit of doggerel. Not sure about the door/cor/noir bit, but other than that... not bad at all. I've read a lot worse by people who were actually trying to write good poetry. :)
Superb!
I like your Poe-etic take on this brilliant story. I do have a question...since you own a cat, would it be kitterel? Perhaps not! And of course, a metaphoric tip of the hat to the always charming and talented Susan Brown. Thank you for a wonderful story, my dear!
She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Tutto il mio apprezzamento, cari, Andrea
Love, Andrea Lena
Wow!
Wow! this was great...more, more, more. Thank you, Mary.
What did Nigel do now
RAMI
Despite some problems, life is beginning to get cozy for Abby and Samantha. But as often seems to happen in the Cove, a new wrinkle appears. Perhaps the Cove is haunted and all will become clear on the 31st when witches and ghouls go a haunting. Perhaps Lady Fairbairn is the head of the local coven. ;-).
I did not think that Olivia knew where Samantha lived. I guess Nigel's henchmen told her.
So why is she there?
First is her condition an act and fake, or is she really in some difficult situation?
Some possible scenarios.
A) Nigel and she made a plan to get Samantha sympathy and try and make her return.
B) Nigel wanted to force Olivia to have another abortion, and Olivia finally decided to respect human life and have the baby. Having no friends, she runs to the only person she feels safe with.
C) Olivia tells dear old daddy to stop all attacks on Tom/Samantha and daddy dear refuses and turns his wrath on Olivia. Again the only place she feels safe is with Samantha.
D) Olivia is the Trojan horse or an attempt to breach the walls and the goons are right behind her.
E) Lady F's son is the father of the child, Olivia was looking for her, but got into trouble and came to Samantha.
F) Sue will come up with something really unique as she always does.
What do you fellow readers think of these suggestions.
RAMI
RAMI
Is anyone keeping with the dates?
I remember the 2nd soothsaying talking about the 'harvest festival, time of happiness and tragedy'.
I'm just saying what is the day outside Samantha's door?
I gather that 'harvest festival' is supposed to be in the middle of October.
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Michaelmas...
...which was mentioned in the first soothsayer message, comes at the end of September. As I said in an earlier comment, I thought we'd passed it, but with Samantha talking about the end of the summer season approaching, we're apparently still in mid-September. (Or maybe earlier, depending on when school reconvenes out there -- it'd seem from Sarah's new start there that the term is just beginning.)
Eric
Possibile Scenario G - Olivia dies in childbirth
RAMI
Dear Faraway,
I just read or reread your comment. Based on that I have decided to add another possible scenario.
My scenario G.
Olivia is about to deliver her baby either timely or more likely prematurely. She knows that she has a fatal condition and will not survive delivery. She further knows that the as yet unnamed father does not want the child. She realizes that if she dies, Nigel will get custody. She decides that she does not want Nigel to be the her child's parent/guardian and perpetuate his evil. So, she flees to Samantha with a letter/Last Will and Testament on her possession granting custody to Samantha.
Olivia dies in childbirth, and Samantha and Abby decide to adopt the child. The story continues with more battles with Nigel for custody.
Comments please.
RAMI
RAMI
Awesome! Grats on a big 50! :)
Good stuff as always! =)
-JT
=^.^=
-JT
=^.^=
Well Susan you continue to
Well Susan you continue to provide new twists to keep the story lively!!
The part when Samantha says "I shake myself I could probably hear the pills rattling!" reminds me of me! I take 6 different pills every day. For gender change, diabetes, kidney problems etc.
So now we have Olivia in the picture, now we may find out what her nasty dad is up to.
Hugs,
Pamela
"how many cares one loses when one decides not to be
something, but someone" Coco Chanel
Poison Pen Letter
As I read this latest grand chapter, I wondered whether Olivia had been sending the poison pen letters in an effort to get Samantha back. Then what do you do? You deliver Olivia to our doorstep! Now I'm really suspicious.
I also can't help wondering if there'll be a little cat fighting in the next chapter, and I don't mean between moggies.
Thanks for another soapy, sudsy, great chapter. Please keep up the good work.
- Terry
And there was me
thinking all sorts of horrible things were waiting outside for Samantha....And then she finds Olivia!!!....Can't wait to find out what happens next!!!
Kirri
The tlot phickens
Is this planned or accidental?
LoL
Rita
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)
LoL
Rita
Great Story
I've followed a number of serials but this is one of the best. I don't think Olivia has an evil purpose. I think she may have no where else to turn and Sam's coven of ladies might be the most supportive environment she could possibly find. If she's abandoned out in the storm, she's probably been turned out by her family.
Please keep the chapters coming as quickly as they can be posted. I hate
having to agonize for several days until the next arrives.
I'm sure my straight forward plot ideas are the furthest from what will happen but, I'm a simple soul and do the best with what I have.
It Just Struck Me
"Down the steps and out into the lane..." Olivia was lying behind the wall.
So who was knocking on the door?
Gaaahhh! It's a trap!
Joanne
I have another scenario
Olivia came to Sam's door, knocked and, when nobody answered, turned around to go away. Walking away she had an 'Owwie' and fell. By this time Samantha came to the door and opened it.
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Hard to say, depends on the wind and rain
Hyperthermia is her first problem and whatever else is wrong with her.
If this is not a trap, and I doubt it is a trap, then maybe the door was exposed to the weather and given its a cold raining windy night and given how slow Samantha was to get to the door, Oliva ran for what little cover there was, the stone wall. She may be ill or injured from a beating, the curling up could be to keep warm, not necessarily premature labor.
Still, how did she get there, dumped by an angry dad's minions? Fled home when she learned dad arranged an abortion? Took a cab who left as soon as she paid? Took a bus or train as far as she could and walked the last five miles? This scene seemed right out of David Copperfield or out of Withering Heights. But then our Sue brown is a Charles Dickens fan or so her writings sugest.
The tragedy could be her dying and giving birth to a preemie -- still has the problem of the child reminding Samantha of the children Olivia denied them as a couple and of her infidelities -- OR it could be her loosing the child and because of complications, becomes sterile. That would be ironic, the woman who claimed she didn't want children getting her wish and realizing she does desperately want a child, a child she and the one person she ever came close to loving can now never have. If she has this child she can at least imaguine what it would have been like if it was their child, to lose this child would distory her. Olivia is far more fragile emotionaly than I thought at first. The meeting at their former home confirmed that for me.
Hum, Lady F's son as the bastard child's dad. Hum? She did go on a lot of *seminars* out of town and all. That would be truely weird but not beyond our twisted authors devious nature. -- grin --
It could even be Olivia learning her father is a crook and a murderer and that is why she fled and the tragedy. maybe Olivia's mom was killed by Nigel all those years ago, either in an accident or deliberate -- maybe mom learned he was a crook and tried to leave him -- but he covered it up?
Olivia is a selfish, childish woman but not evil. From her reaction when Samantha turned her down during their last visit it shows she loves her, well the man she once was at a minimum. Her dad however ...
Okay, call for help ASAP Samantha, both mediacl, police and legal. Time for a conference of war on Nigel.
MONSTER cliff hanger, Sue.
John in Wauwatosa
John in Wauwatosa
3 days and fifty chapters =
Getting to the point I wish there was more done all ready. What a wonderful little story you've created with characters that just crack me up like lady Fairbairn. I can't help but wonder if there's any chance for those of us from the US to write stories as well as those written by our European sisters.Looking forward to finding out what reason you have for Olivia being there.
Amy