Wind gusts sheets of rain across the deserted forecourt under a leaden-grey sky. A van with blacked-out windows stands alone by the petrol pumps with it’s tarpaulin covered trailer buffeted by the wind and the rain. Within the service station, Helen sits opposite Andy at the window, steamed with condensation. Around then are other friends from the holiday. Helen cups her hands around her bowl of hot chocolate.
At the table next to them a man and a woman sit with their elbows on the table, each staring in a different direction, silent. Two young men in football shirts play pool, speak only to congratulate each other or commiserate over a missed shot.
Helen smiles; remembering the holiday so far.
Today is a day, much as is unfolding in Blood & Fire, and one made for writing. Finally I am getting closer to my eventual closing chapter. I am also finalising and printing and binding the second edition of my Grannie’s history, The Roe Family, thanks to an afterword from my dad, and some photos of my year old nephew and my week old first cousin, once removed, so far only only known as Mini Holm.