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When she returned to the flat her mother had locked herself in her bedroo out her work kit and rubber gloves to cross the courtyard and enter the hall She turned out different roo and scrubbing It was deeply ironic that she had been so set against working for the Leonettis when she was a teenager but had ended up doing it anyway even if it was unofficial Evenings she served drinks in the local pub There wasn’t ti when there was always a job needing to be done

Disturbingly however she couldn’t get Gaetano Leonetti out of her mind He was the one and only boy she had ever hated but also the only one she had ever loved What did that say about her? Self-evidently, that at the age of sixteen she had been really stupid to iine for one moment that she could ever have any kind of a personal relationship with the posh, privileged scion of the Leonetti fa words that Gaetano had shot at her then were still burned into her bones like the scars of an old breakage

‘I don’tthe fact that they were not equals and that he would always inhabit a different stratum of society

‘Stop co like a slapper’ Oh, how she had cringed at that reading of her behaviour when in truth she hadand inexperienced to kno to be subtle about spelling out the fact that should he be interested, she was available

‘You’re a short, curvy redhead You could never be my type’

It was seven years since that hue had taken place and apart fro encounter she had not seen Gaetano since, having always gone out of her way to avoid him whenever he was expected at the hall So, he didn’t know that she had sliht, wouldn’t much care either, she reckoned ry amusement After all, Gaetano went for very beautiful and sophisticated ladies in designer clothes Although the one who had thrown that shockingly wild party had not been inal sense of the word

Having put in her hours at the hall in the ongoing challenge to ensure that it was alell prepared for a visit that could coed for her bar work Jasmine was out for the count on her bed, an e her slu the busy, lively and caring woman her mother had once been Alcohol had stolen all that from her Jasmine needed specialised help and rehabilitation but there wasn’t even counselling available locally and Poppy had no hope of ever acquiring sufficient cash to pay for private treatment for the older woman

Poppy put on the Goth clothes that she had first donned like a er She had been picked on in school for being a little overweight and red-haired Heck, she had even been bullied for being ‘posh’ although her family lived in the hall’s servant accoer dyed her hair or painted her nails black, she had come to enjoy a touch of individuality in her wardrobe and had ht since she started working two jobs and she was convinced that her Goth-style clothes did a good job of disguising her skinniness For work she had teamed a dark red net flirty skirt with a fitted black jersey rock print top The outfit hugged her sth of her legs

At the end of her shift in the busy bar that was paired with a popular restaurant, Poppy pulled on her coat and waited outside for Damien to show up on his motorbike

‘Gaetano Leonetti arrived in a helicopter this evening,’ her brother delivered curtly ‘He demanded to see Mum but she was out of it and I had to pretend she was sick He handed over these envelopes for her and I opened the sacked and we have a month’s notice to move out of the flat’

An anguished moan of dismay at those twin blows parted Poppy’s lips

‘I guess he did see that newspaper’ Da us out’

‘Can we blah her heart was sinking to the soles of her shoes Where would they go? Hoould they live? They had no rainy-day account for eencies Her mother drank her salary and Damien was on benefits

But Poppy was a fighter, always had been, alould be She took after her fatherherself up when things rong Her mother, however, had never fully recovered from the stillbirth she had suffered the year before Poppy’s father had died Those two terrible calaether had knocked her ot up again Poppy sed hard as she cliripped her brother’s waist She could still renancy, which in the end had becorief and loss