Chapter One - Page Four

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Normally, I would have asked my Dad about anything and know that he would give me an answer. This time I feel as if this should be kept safely within the many layers of curiosity I have stored in my brain. I take one of the letters out of the box and go back to my room. I use the letter as a reference. Where have I seen that stamp before? Why is it so familiar? That wreath.... I decided to go to the only information source that I found reliable.....Google. I type in all possible searches like 'lion symbols', 'lions and wreaths', 'rose wreath symbols' until I found the symbol using the search 'lion in a rose wreath'. I click on google images and find the stamp. I click on the picture and read the description. 'This symbol is the crest of the Campbell family, brought to the family by one of the ancestors, Augustus Campbell, the infamous canter (religious speaker) of the 19th century. Two centuries on, the stamp has been used a lot by the Campbells, especially by Natalie Campbell before she died. She wrote several letters to her husband when she was away on work and when her daughter, Rose Barringham, was born she wrote letters for her to read when she is old enough'

A million thoughts were running through my mind so fast I couldn't bring one into focus no matter how hard I tried. I stare at the stamp on the letter and back at the stamp on the computer screen, looking for any differences between the two but there isn't one. They are identical. I run back to my Dad's room and rummage around in the box until I find a letter addressed to me. I run back to my room and peel the sealing wax away to open the letter. The letter read:
'My darling Rose,'
I am currently in Rome and just by looking at it I know you would love it. Right now you may only be 5 but I know that one day you will come to Rome to research its history and when you do, you will see Rome in an amazing light, as I do. I miss you. I will be home in a few weeks. I can't wait to see you. I love you my little Rose petal.
Love, Mum'
I sit there in silence for what feels like forever, staring at the small writing, taking in all the curves of the letters, trying to imagine the pen flowing across the paper. After a while it occurs to me that my Dad will be home in a few minutes. I move to slip the letter back into the envelope when I see something else inside it. I pull it out. It's a photograph. A Polaroid picture of a woman standing in front of the colosseum with her arms in the air. It is the same woman that is in all of the framed pictures around the house. This must be my Mum......

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