Page 15 - The Letter By Ann Newhouse
P. 15

Tony and what I presumed was his sister, both very young it looked like they were only in their teens. The photo was worn and had deep fold marks through it, you could tell it was well loved by its appearance. Tony had carried it in his wallet for all the years I’d known him. Sometimes I would see him look at it when he thought he was alone. I never asked, and he never talked about it. This was the first time I’d actually seen what he was looking at.
As I dropped the keys into the solicitors, I waved goodbye to Dublin and left the bright lights behind as I sped towards the Port. I wanted to beat the early morning traffic.
This was it, I thought, a new start.
Glancing at the few boxes behind me a single tear blurring my vision.
This is all I have to show for my ten years with Tony.
I remembered then I had a fat bank account. Ok money is not everything, but it would ease the pain. Thank you, Tony, for giving me security for the future.
As we docked at Holyhead my plan was to stop where I felt most comfortable. I might even travel as far as France. I decided I’d take the coastal road and head southwards as I didn’t want the city lights of London to influence me.
After endless miles and hours on the road I pulled into a Little Chef to have a meal and a much-needed coffee. With only a few hours to go before nightfall I decided I’d look out for a place to spend the night, maybe the next little country village I found. That was when I spotted a large black sign on the side of the road with ‘Welcome to Devon’ continuing a little further I saw it. The name of my dream village:
Puddleville .... How cute I thought smiling.


































































































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