Chapter Three

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Soo you guys should be very grateful that I'm uploading, cause I've and the most frustrating evening full of homework, and it's nine o'clock now and I still have loads more to do, but I'm uploading anyway. I hope you guys like this one, it's got a nice little moment with Beth and Blake that's cute :')

This one's dedicated to MikaelaKirk, cause she used to be such a great fan (it seems like she hasn't been on wattpad recently) but here's me hoping she'll come back and read my book again!

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     After having spent a long afternoon at my mother’s house stuffing our faces with all the wonderful food she produced for us as if by magic, Blake finally got a call from the moving guys who had arrived with our furniture. We gave them strict instructions to begin moving the bigger objects into their allocated rooms while we made our way back.

     After having eaten so much, it was difficult to get up and move, but we forced ourselves to. It was after eight in the evening, and Flick had fallen asleep curled up on the sofa, unusually early for her – especially considering she’d slept for almost the entire long journey from London to St. David’s that morning.

      ‘Leave her here,’ my mother urged us. ‘It’s not like her bed is at home waiting for her all made and ready. No, even if you carry her home, it’ll be a while before you can get her in bed. Leave her here, I’ll put her in your old room, and you’ll see her in the morning.’

      I looked sceptically at Blake, but she just shrugged. ‘I’m way to full and sleepy to carry her all the way back, and we don’t have her pram,’ she pointed out.

      ‘It’s only five minutes though,’ I said. ‘And she’ll be confused when she wakes up, not knowing where she is.’

      ‘Go,’ Mum insisted again. ‘She’ll live. I’ll bring her over first thing in the morning.’

     I reluctantly left, Blake dragging me gently by the hand out into the night air. It was a beautiful cool, evening, warm enough not to need a jacket, but with a refreshing breeze. There was still light, as the summer days had not yet even reached their longest, but the sun was hovering just over the rooftops of St. David’s at a short distance away. The sky was dyed a deep orange colour, promising good weather tomorrow.

      Blake let out a sigh of satisfaction as we took in the view, then began to rootle around in her handbag. Drawing out her large, chunky camera and expertly flipping the neck strap over her head, she was grinning. I let out a little laugh, and continued to walk, knowing she’d catch me up.

     Blake never went anywhere without her beloved camera, never knowing when she would find something worth photographing. Now that we were living in St. David’s, I doubted she’d ever put it away.

     ‘I wish we could go watch the sunset,’ I heard her lament, as she jogged a little to catch up with me.

     ‘I’m sure we’ll get plenty of chance to this summer,’ I assured her, linking my arm in hers. She nodded, but looked unconvinced. ‘What is it?’ I asked.

     ‘Oh, nothing,’ she said, shaking her head. I didn’t say anything, trusting that she would continue. ‘It’s just… well I’m worried that we won’t have much time for our art this summer, what with unpacking and trying get Flick settled and the gallery ready to be opened. But then, what will we sell in the gallery? We both know the prime time for art here is the summer. Nobody wants to buy paintings of depressing weather and once we hit September that’s all we’ll have.’

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