I was warned not to eat anything. There are agents all around me. They use food as a weapon. They want to destroy me. They want to poison me. They want to enchant me, control me and destroy me at all costs.

Plate after plate of the most fragrant and delicious food in laid down by the servers. Chicken, beef, ham, and rices cooked in various spices. Chips!! Real chips, chip shop chips. None of that plastic rubbish. I bet they're cooked in beef dripping too.

Then the cakes - fresh from the oven Victoria sponge, brownies, 4 types of donuts with toffee, chocolate and raspberry dipping sauces.

"You must eat something dear, don't be so ungrateful !" Margaret chides

"No thank you." I repeat this phrase so many times it feels like I'm chanting.

No fan-queue! No fan-queue! No fan-queue!

"Ugh! What a waste. I expect you'll have some wine though?!" This she brings over personally.

"No fan-queue. Honest, I ate before I came out."

"What a ridiculous thing to do!!!" "Just drink the fucking wine!" She snarls and her manic grin transforms into a demonic grimace. She gets so close to my face that I smell her breath. It smells like dead animals.

"And I said no." I stare her down.

The truth be told, I'm not even allowed to eat in my dreams. These are real witches and they use spell work to infiltrate my dreams. The food smells so good though. Perhaps a little bite will be ok?

I needed you the most back then, abandoned, abused, confused, uncertain-

You lost your cool with me and who can blame you?

I know I am a pain.

I took it on myself, it was my fault you left. I was too much of a mess. It was my fault.

Missing you has been my burden I've been glad to bear. And even though we don't talk anymore, I will say kind words about you.

Grace was acutely aware that every step she took was on ground they had once trodden together. Every pavement, cobblestone, gravel path, shop floor. This was their old stomping ground and every place with imbued with significance in her mind because the memories of his presence hovering over it. Does he think this too as he walks around our little town? It's been eighteen years. He'd probably moved on by now. She was convinced that the mere thought of their romance probably made him wince and cringe. The pain of it. The stupidly of going for someone like her. " And yet, if she was thinking this, surely he must be thinking of her too. Was this a form or telepathy or extreme delusion? It annoyed her when he moved back to the area. I mean, he had every right to but it disturbed her long fought for equilibrium. She'd build high walls around herself to stop her looking the fool ever again. To stop her being hurt. And yet he was, not merely content to conquer the world and have his face and name everywhere but also wanting to come back into her world, with his wife and kids and remind her of the time shared and lost that could never be revisited. Why couldn't he leave her be? And yet, another part of her longed to connect. Just to look into his eyes again, to smile and chat. She knew what the boundary was. They both did, of this she was certain. They both had their 'someone'. But it would soothe her soul to say what she felt needed to be said.

Ahem. Knocking softly. He might be asleep. I hear the creak of a bed spring and then his big flat feet on the floorboards. The door unceremoniously opens. He's standing there. Wearing, hmm three sweaters I'd say. Beanie hat. Ripped jeans. Simpsons slippers. 'Y'alright Mate?' 'Yeah just wondered if you wanted to chip in for some ingredients pal. My mum's lent me her crockpot you see. Thought I'd make a curry and freeze some. You're welcome to some mate. If you like?' 'Yeah yeah sure. Thanks buddy. I'd like that.' 'Cool yeah well I'm just heading down to farm foods now, if you want anything?' 'Don't think so Mate. You're not going into town are you?' 'Nah, it'll be shut by the time I get down there.' You scratch your foot head and furrow your monobrow. 'It's only twenty minute drive innit?' 'Yeah but I don't have a car. Had to sell it to pay for my lad's operation.' 'Oh right. Get a good price for it did you?' 'Six grand, it was an old couple. You know chapel road? Wanted to get their grandson a first car. It makes me laugh. Six grand! Still. It's helped me out no end like.' 'Yeah. How is he?' 'He's alright like you know, he's very good like that. He don't complain. As long as he's got his toy cars and football cards. He's a good lad. And the doctor said they have high success rates on this one. So fingers crossed.' ' He's in my thoughts and prayers mate. And I mean that.' He grabs my shoulder and give my back an earnest pat. His amber eyes widen gingerly under that furrowed brow and he nods continuously. I think he's waiting for me to say something but the words get stuck in my throat. ' Thanks mate. Best get going. I've turned the heating off.' 'Cheers pal.'

'Well done Julie, you absolute superstar. You've saved that little boy.' Mitzi gushes whilst sloshing red wine into my obnoxiously large fish bowl glass. 'Well - it wasn't just me. It was a collaborative effort you know? When multidisciplinary teams communicate right. It works well. It's how it should be." "Too right my darling. You've got all these teams - police, social workers, doctors, teachers. They've got to share information haven't they? That's what we've noticed with Charlie's school. None of them bloody communicate.' ' You can insist on a conference meeting about his plan though Mitz' ' Done that. Bloody seventy million times it seems. If it's not someone quitting the job, there's some other excuse. We had a real nice lady come along, made all these great promises, listened to us. Wrote it all down. We thought, finally we're getting somewhere! Next thing we hear she's quit the job! Something about a stress induced stomach ulcer. And then the whole tiresome cycle starts all over a bloody gain!' 'I'm sorry Mitz. If you want me to have a word I will.' 'Oh my gawd!!! Listen to me harping on when tonight should be all about you birthday girl. I'm so sorry!! Let me get the pasta, it should be done now!' She slinks out and I hear the clip clop of her stilletoes on the parquet floor. I hear some exclamations about the pasta boiling over. I feel so sleepy and yet my ears are ringing. I allow the cushions behind me to hold my full weight, I sink in...and my eyes softly rest on the navy feature wall directly in front on me, the flickering candles on the shelves, the black and white photos of Mitzi's perfect three kids. Oh man, infertility aches. I try and block it out but there it is. I take deep gulp of wine and characteristically, it sloshes down my front and I now i have smelly, sticky red wine boobs. I feel rage and then I start laughing. And then I start crying. Mitzi backs into the room with her tray, pushing the door open with her hip, oblivious it seems. 'So, you know that Christmas tree pasta dad always used to cook us on Christmas Eve? I found it! I've got three types of cheese too.' 'I'm sorry Mitz, I'm a bit of a mess.' ' Oh no! Are you ok? Are you thinking about the case?' 'I'm thinking, I'm thinking that he is just one kid. And I'm thinking of all the sleepless nights, all the sacrifices, all the battling I had to do just get that bastard in the dock Mitzi and what for? One boy. Scarred for the rest of his life. Being passed from pillar to post now. Probably. Foster family to foster family. I can't remember the last night Mitch and I had sex. I can't remember the last time I didn't have nightmares. I can't remember the last time I didn't close my eyes and see something fucking awful.' 'You're tired babe. Youre just very tired. It's a wonderful thing you did. You inspire me so much.' She's forcibly scooped me out of my seat and put her arms around me. And I sob. "But it's not enough. Knowing that they are out there and I'm having a lovely time with you here. It's wrong. It feels wrong. How can I enjoy anything now? I can't get those photos out my head sis. The burn marks.' I weep onto her shoulder. She strokes my hair. ' You enjoy tonight. Tomorrow we go to the spa. You bloody well make sure you're on tip top form girl. Because Monday morning. You've got to get back on that horse and tell Satan not today. These bastards aren't going to get away with it.' 'Don't you get it? I can't afford a weekend. They are out there right now! Getting away with it. Beating their kids, lying, manipulating, isolating....there is not Friday. There is not Monday. There is just fucking now. We've got to save them all now!!' It had been a long time coming, but now I felt I could truly call myself a slayer of monsters.

It's New Year's Day 2010. Harriet has a hangover, regrets meltdown behaviour night before, thinks back to the start of her love affair with Josh. Flashback 5 years. Josh and Harriet meet and enjoy one another's company, both introverted, shy and troubled with childhood wounds and difficult relationships with their fathers, they feel an instant affinity . Start drinking together recreationally. Harriet gets into trouble because her turbulent emotions and binge drinking keep sabotaging the relationship. Josh goes travelling and Harriet goes to University. They drift apart yet stay in almost constant contact. Harriet gets a boyfriend who is immature and stupid. Josh tries to convince her to break up with him and get back together with himwhen he discovers new boyfriend injured her. Harriet is too frightened to break up with him but hopes Josh will wait for her. By the time she finishes with him, Josh has met someone else, provoking a deep abandonment wound culminating in the New Year's Eve meltdown. Harriet notices Josh's health decline due to his secret alcohol dependency but he keeps pushing her away and she feels powerless to help. In the end she gives up and lets him go. Flashforward 10 years and Josh and Harriet both meet by chance in their home town. Both are now pretty much teetotal and married with their own families. Story ends with them both agreeing that they were both too young when they met and rushed things, so that their friendship burned out before it had begun. Both have to rush away as they have other commitments and there is a shared sense they both know any further communication between them hurt their spouses and the stability they have each built. There is a sense of closure that they both acknowledge that they will always care for each other and there is no ill will.

Teaser extract: 'The thing is Josh....I love my husband dearly and I know you love your wife. Tim has been so good to me and is so good for me. It doesn't stop me feeling this weird. Huh. How can I put this?' 'If it's a gut wrenching feeling, it might be some kind of inflammatory bowel condition Haz' 'Oh my God. You're not helping me get my words out.'

' Go on. Sorry. Say what you wanted to say.' ' I've really really fucking missed you. And it hurts my brain to know I can never reconcile those two facts. Like. Here's Tim here. ' I grab the salt shaker. 'He's a nice guy. He's a good man. He has been loyal and kind and we have some laughs.' And then here's me...this, this fork. Right?' 'I'm only barely grasping your point. But go on' 'In the back of my mind, you're always there and there's things I wanted to say.' 'Nobody made you block me Haz. You did that all by yourself!' ' I know. And I'm sorry but I have explained.' 'There's no hard feelings Harriet. Life moves on. I've got my wife and kids and you've got your life too.' ' Yes but. I feel so guilty because I feel this thing with you I can't ever unfeel and I never will. And as much as I am loyal to my husband. If he ever knew, he would be so hurt.' ' Yeah. I know Haz.' 'So that's why we can't see each other again. It's not fair on them Josh. They've done nothing wrong. But I just want you to know, I'm loyal to you deep down in here. Always will be.' 'Thanks Harriet but the crockery was not needed to tell me that.' 'I'll always feel it Josh' Trailing off. 'Yeah, I'll always feel like that too Harriet. You know that.' 'I just want you to know, even though we won't talk much...if you ever need a character reference...or someone to stand in the dock for you...' 'What on earth do you think I'm into?' 'Oh ok... say your house blows up..., please please give me a call. I'll always be there if you need me.' 'Good to know. Please don't blow my house up as an excuse to see me though.' The dizzy laughter makes me elated, weary, wistful, a bit sad. But most of all, I feel I've got closure now. I can go home and pee on a stick. Back at the car, I message Tim: 'Hello my love, hope you've had a nice day. Im heading home. Want anything from Sainsbos? Xxxxx' Life goes on. All the best Josh.

I am still recovering from the pneumonia so I'm sleeping a lot in the day. I didn't have my glasses on when you telephoned. You told me to look out the bedroom window towards the grove. I see an outline of a person, in a soldier's uniform and it looks like they are climbing a tree but I can't make it out. I reach up for the high shelf, but somehow bang my head and fall back. I must've been blacked out a while when I come to because it's dusk now. My glasses are beside me and so I put them on and I peer out the window. Although whatever you wanted me to see is probably long gone. I let out yelp of terror and pain. My soldier is hanging from the tree vacantly staring, lifeless and limp. I realise it's my Ron. And I didn't get to him in time.

I made it! There's hardly a cloud in the sky and the October sun hits my face as I pause for a moment at the edge of the quarry. I clunk my bottle out of my bag and take a long, deep swig. I feel as though I'm looking down at a painting. Nothing about this scene reminds me of anything. My eyes see it, but my brain rejects it. There was a time when such beauty would touch a deep place inside me. I see it. But I don't feel it. I promised I would come here and here I am. I scramble in my backpack and find Peter's instructions, along with the photograph, the compass and the urn. ' Face Southwards and a shaded spot, hidden from view....' 'Alright, here goes nothing...' I put all the items save the note back into my backpack and I tentatively descend into the quarry. Oh holy crap, is that a bear?!! Distracted by the scuffling of a brown furry creature I see moving soundlessly up between some trees on the bank, I suddenly lose my footing on a particularly slippery rock. My backpack which is precariously hanging from my shoulder begins to slip. 'No no no!!!' I've got everything in there. I attempt to pull it back up but I'm in danger of falling since my footing is slipping. In an instant, it's it's gone. Falling falling deep into the quarry. A primal roar. I throw myself to the ground, lest it sees me. I whimper. Is this what you wanted Peter?! You wanted me with you huh?!! It wasn't enough for you to screw us all over you selfish fuck!!! With your pedantic suicide note and your kamakasi memorial mission?!! Why ?!!! Why?!! A pain in the ass in death, as you were in life. Fuck you Peter, I'm done. I'm done. I'm not giving up. Not like you did pal. I'm not going to be a loser like you!!!!! This is therapeutic. This is intoxicating. This is closure. I'm getting out of here, bear or no bear.