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a fringe straight across too. It looked harsh but suited her, and went with the smart red lipstick she liked to wear: she loved strong colours and bold geometric shapes.
    She adjusted her peacock blue top as the silence stretched on. “Your eldest is in the church choir, isn’t he? Good voices must run in your family,” she smiled, trying again.
    Sara always remembered thoughtful details about people. She volunteered to take part in things too, from fundraising baking sessions to story reading at the school once a month. No matter what she did, though, Adam’s mother did not make friends. Mrs Guest was clearly not going to be the exception to the rule. 
    Adam stayed quiet too. He sat on Sara’s lap, staring straight ahead like a marionette rather than a real live boy, only moving once the nativity play was over and the applause had faded.
    “Come on,” said Sara, holding out her hand. The boy clung to it gladly, as if all his dreams had come true.
    “Say goodbye,” she added. Adam smiled and opened his mouth. “Come on, speak up,” Sara encouraged.
    Adam’s eyes grew large as he realised both his mother and Mrs Guest were staring at him, waiting. His mouth gaped.
    “Bye,” he squeaked.
    “Can you say it a little louder? We didn’t quite hear that,” his mum said.
    He did. Eventually.
    “Bye bye, Adam,” Mrs Guest smiled. She watched them for a moment as they disappeared outside and crossed the road. It was starting to rain, and she noticed Sara stop to pull her own hood up before seeing to her son.

CHAPTER FOUR
    White Hyacinth
    ~ I’ll Pray For You ~
     
    PRESENT DAY
     
    Aunt Linda is standing on the doorstep, a big smile slapped on her face, holding aloft a bag of food fresh from the supermarket down the road.
    “Ta-da! Brought you a present,” she says over-brightly, kissing her niece on the cheek then bustling past without waiting to be invited in.
    Laura screws up her face in frustration but doesn’t say anything. She hates arguing with her mum’s sister, because she is so like her mum; same eyes, same voice, auburn hair only a shade darker. The mannerisms are particularly painful for Laura to see.
    “So…what are you up to today? Any plans? Seeing your boyfriend?” asks her aunt, with her head now stuck in the fridge, putting the food away.
    “No plans except watching telly. And I’ve split with Ryan.”
    Her aunt’s head appears round the fridge door. “Well, that’s a shame. He seemed like a nice young man…”
    “We had nothing in common.”
    “Oh? He’d just qualified as a junior schoolteacher, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that enough to start with? Thought he might get you thinking along those lines again. You have to take time with people, get to know them… Let them in a bit, Laura. You mustn’t be afraid of letting someone love you.”
    “Okay, okay! You have to stop!” Laura puts out a hand to illustrate. “Just…stop with the advice. With buying groceries. With tidying up. With trying to be my mum! I’m fine as I am.”
    Aunt Linda seems to turn stiff and brittle at those words. “You’re fine?” she asks.
    She closes the fridge door slowly and deliberately, then looks at Laura as if she has never seen her before.
    “You’re fine?” she repeats incredulously. “Have you looked in the mirror recently, Laura? Have you bothered to take stock of your life? Four years ago you were a bright, bubbly girl who had a wonderful life ahead of her. You wrote all the time, too; when was the last time you wrote anything? You were training to be a nursery nurse, and you’d have been bloody good at it – you’re a natural with kids.
    “But then… I know what happened was terrible. It doesn’t get much worse, and for you to witness it… But you should be glad to be alive.”
    Oh, sod off! Laura wants to scream.
    “Coming so close to death has given me such a positive attitude towards life. Seize the day!” she mocks angrily. “And if I can’t live for myself I should be