Bridge Over the Atlantic
had finally moved out from the ‘Manor House’.
    Sylvia was her Dad’s older sister by around eight years. She had married a very wealthy man who had owned a string of butcher shops throughout Yorkshire . She had gradually become the stereotypical Lady of the Manor but she had a heart of gold. “Come on then, lovey; show your old Aunt Sylvia around your new crib.”
    Mallory burst out laughing at the attempt Sylvia had made to be down with the kids . “My what?” she spluttered, holding her stomach for fear of her sides splitting.
    “You know…they do it on the MTV programmes on Sky, haven’t you seen them? Oh, you really should watch it, Mallory, dear. You need to stay abreast. Anyway, they all go around and look inside the grand homes of the rich and famous and see where the magic happens, darling. You really should keep up with what’s en-trend , you know, young girl of your age.”
    Sylvia didn’t crack a smile. She was unabashedly self-righteous in her explanation and subsequent dressing down of her niece.
    “Okay, Aunt Sylvia, I will try harder.” Mallory smirked, “Come in, come in.” They stepped inside the lounge which was still full of boxes.
    “Oh, it’s…um…compact…erm…delightful, darling, delightful.” Sylvia scanned the room almost with disdain. “It will be nice when you get it all sorted and have been with your friends to that Swedish furniture place you youngsters can’t seem to avoid. Honestly it must be like walking into the same house over and over when you all visit one another.” She looked to Mallory and her expression softened. “Sweet heart, you know you always have a home with me. Come back any time if you decide you don’t wish to be alone…here.”
    Mallory saw a mixture of emotions behind her Aunts grey eyes. Perhaps it was she who was concerned about loneliness; after all Uncle Harold had died three years previously and that manor house was so big. She hugged her Aunt.
    “Come through, Aunty, and I’ll make tea. I have little china mugs that I got from that antique place in Marsden. You’ll love them!”
    At the end of the visit, after she had waved off her Aunt, Mallory found an envelope on the mantle. She opened it and inside was a card.
    Wishing my dear Mallory a wonderful new life of independence, love Sylvia, P.S. don’t you dare eschew the enclosed gift. It is meant for you to invest as you see fit in order to make your new adventure a little more facile, much love.
    Mallory rolled her eyes at her Aunts formal tone. Sure enough inside the card was a cheque for £500.
     
    April 2011
     
    Finally, and with more than a little trepidation, Mallory said goodbye to her happy little house of memories, locking the solid wooden door behind her. After a brief detour via the solicitors, to leave her keys, she and her little dog Ruby set off up the motorway on the first leg of their great adventure, surrounded by the essentials they would need on arrival at their Scottish destination.
    The little yellow car was stacked to the hilt and the engine was somewhat protesting at the extra weight. Ruby sat on the passenger seat staring out the window whilst Mallory listened and sang along, emphatically, to the compilation CD of life affirming tracks and love songs that Sam had presented her with the day before. Tears streamed down her face as she sang along to their song ‘ Chasing Cars’ by Snow Patrol. She missed him already even though she knew she was going to see him in a few hours’ time.
    Mallory gazed out of the window as she passed the large hotel at Scotch corner. She smiled fondly as she remembered the time she had been to Scotland with her parents when she was nine and she had got very excited because they had reached this place and she’d presumed that they had arrived. She was very disappointed when she discovered the truth. Scotch corner was nowhere near Scotland! What a silly place , she had thought sulkily.
    Mallory made a brief stop at Annandale water

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