Morningstar Manor

Guy took a break between pickups and bought a coffee and took it to the angel statue. He liked sitting in the shadow of the big green wings while he drank. It made him feel safe.

###

Ben also had a drink - tea he had made himself. It was getting cold on the counter while he unpacked and shelved books. The door was wide open and the workmen were in and out whistling. Ben was very pleased with the way the work was going. The soft pale turquoise paint on the walls made him feel happy and relaxed. he hoped it would have the same effect on his customers.

###

Charlie should have been answering emails but a thought had struck him and he'd gone and found a sheet of paper and had got out some pastels and was making a glorious smudgy mess that was slowly beginning to look like the City on a windswept and rainy evening. He was particularly enjoying doing the neon reflections in puddles.

There was a big smudge of pink across his cheek.

###

Allan pumped the bellows watching the iron go from red to a glowing yellow-pink, then he took it from the fire to the anvil and picked up his hammer. White sparks showered as he struck, and again. He wasn't making anything in particular, but it really helped him to think.

Kris had been passing the florists and had been drawn in by the wonderful heady scent. Now he was crossing the Square with his purchases - a bunch of brilliant orange tiger lilies and a cactus of hilariously suggestive shape - and was debating what to drop of where. Celeste seemed like a good sport but would she appreciate a wang shaped cactus? Demitri on the other hand would probably find it as funny as he did.

Sometimes being sophisticated was such hard work that Kris gave it a miss.

###

Ylva was in Riverwalk Park with her lunch and a book. She was possibly a little too close to the Manor for comfort but the park was full of blondes today, she'd blend in.

She crossed long tanned legs, settled her sunglasses more firmly on her nose and turned a page.

###

The roof garden was open again, if a little sparse of plants, and Nick was on his knees unpacking the crate that had been left for the Manor by the Sexton family. At least this time there had been family. So often, he'd heard, they had carefully packed the lost life away into boxes and crates, had sent the furniture to auction for charity and had packed everything away. Rooms and rooms full of memories and nobody to appreciate them.

But this was another matter, he thought, as he uncovered the piece of relief sculpture and the discreet little plaque he was supposed to mount near it.

###

Allan lay flat on his back in the garden, with his eyes closed and his arms spread out. The un shone down and he was warm and drowsy and full of lunch and thinking hard about his latest bronze. It was back and he was halfway through finishing it and he was worried that Deacon and Charlie wouldn't like it. It hadn't turned out the way he'd intended at all.

But he'd worry about that later. For now he was warm - and might go to sleep.

Ten o'clock had been the time so Allan made sure to be out there in good time, found a post to lean again and kicked his heels waiting to see a suitably big, long and black vehicle.

There was a surprising number of them in the City and Allan grinned to himself as he returned from bothering yet another blameless driver and leaned back against his post again.

"And about time too," Leena said, chasing Allan into the office. She shut the door after him and he scowled at the bit of paper in his hand and slumped into the chair by the desk. He didn't like using the phone, especially for something like this - contacting a potential customer - but time had gone on and even Charlie was beginning to get a bit testy with him.

Allan sighed and picked up the phone and dialled the number.

One ring - two - maybe she wasn't there?