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even more scared than before. Cindy attempted to revive her, giving up after around five minutes, resulting in her hugging her mother’s diagonally in despair. Cindy eyed the paper, it looked like that of an important official document, only the address was taken, it was an English address.
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    ‘Number 118 flight to England boarding in ten minutes, please go for gate 5 E’ announced a woman at New York airport as Rupert, Kerry and Francesca arrived with minutes to spare, both breaking into a small jog to the gate number to ensure they caught the flight. Once they had reached the flight ticket check area, they handed the air hostess their tickets and once checked by the tall Caribbean lady they were able to board the plane. Rupert located the seats and began stowing the hand luggage in the overhead compartment, leaving some items for them to use, as this was a long haul flight, so reading and watching TV would be the main activities on the agenda. A small woman with a trolley of refreshments, as she swayed down the isle of the plane, offering people if they require refreshments. There was a rumble of the engine and slight movement from the rear of the aircraft, ushering the plane forward. The air hostess spilt the tea into a saucer, the pale brown liquid glided onto the immaculate white curved tip saucer with a delicate splash and swish. Kerry despised plane journeys. The last time she was on a plane was a few years back in 1995, something about the journey brought memories back for her. She felt a deep inner pain as the thoughts came rushing back in a flash. Unclear images stirred around in her head as she tried to take her mind off things. The plane began to set off down the runway and take off, just as Kerry drifted into a state of tranquil transformation, her palms sweating, the blood escaping from her usual bubbly face.
     
    Nine years old Kerry was playing quietly in her stately home garden in the upper east side of New York. Her mother Anna was working temporarily as an office worker in a small firm. Her father Tim works for‘NY Weekly’, where he writes a column in the newspaper, trying and analysing the latest technology.
     
    A lovely summer’s afternoon was evident, just her, her thoughts and a few dolls dressed up and drawn on. The sunlight beamed down through the large birch tree, casting a hand shadow onto the perfectly trimmed effervescent grass. A drooping smell oozed gradually towards Kerry’s senses, turning around on impact. Her mother Anna was visible through the kitchen window, Kerry squinting to focus, avoiding the reflective sunrays shimmying on the glass panes of the window. Anna was baking as usual, they were having Kerry’s special dinner and pudding, roasted vegetables with a mushroom tart and ice cream and chocolate sauce, a vast amount of sauce anyway thought Kerry liking her lips. Anna worried about Kerry’s weight sometimes, as she is a vegetarian and looked substantially undernourished, sometimes barely eating a bite or having the energy to eat. Kerry’s friend Hannah and her mother Maggie, who lives next door, is also concerned for Kerry and her eating habits.
    ‘Kerry…dinner’ said Anna softly, watching Kerry leave her story with her dolls and walk eagerly to the back door. Their kitchen had four French doors that led out onto the garden, of which Kerry was entering through to attend dinner. The kitchen had a dining area attached to the work surfaces offering an area to eat maybe alone or at breakfast. Kerry located some items promptly, obviously having done this regularly at dinner. She picked up the sauces, spices and a loaf of freshly baked bread, straight from their oven this morning. They both sat at the dinner table in the attached room, looking onto the garden and the distant hills. Anna placed the mats and other dinner items onto the wooden table along with knives and forks.
     
    Anna is a