Linette's Love

Chapter 2

Warm light streams through my window and I slowly open my eyes. My embroidery is strewn across my bed so I must have fallen asleep whilst sewing last night. I remove some pins from my back and dress myself. The smell of fresh porridge drifts up to my room and draws me down the stairs, sleepily. As I appear in the kitchen, my mother sees me.

" Linette, dear, could you be a darling and pop down to the market for some apples to go with the porridge please?" she says, smiling at me. I smile back. I don't mind going this morning; when it's sunny. So I slip on my shoes again, still sodden from yesterday. My mother hands me a shilling and I set off onto the bustling streets of Chichester. I have to weave in and out of people going to and fro. Finally I reach the fruit and veg cart and pick a few shiny red apples. I hand over the shilling and make my way back through the early morning crowds.

THUMP!

I bump into a tall pillar of flesh that is standing before me. The apples go all over the floor so I bend down to collect them up before they get trampled on. Soon, another pair of hands join my hurry to pick up the apples. They are strong, manly hands. Damn! I must have bumped into an official.

But as I stand up, all the breath is taken out of me. An angel has come down to earth and is standing in front of me. He smiles at me slowly and my heart skips a beat. A cool breeze causes his mop of honey-coloured hair to flutter slightly as I gaze dreamily into his deep, chocolate brown eyes.

"Hello? Are you okay? Did you bump your head when you bumped into me?" His voice is all velvety, but instead of being angry, he sounds caring and I can tell that he genuinely wants to know if I'm alright. Finally, I pull some words together out of my dreamy state.

"Erm, yeah, I'm okay. Thank you for helping me with the apples, er... I didn't catch your name?"

"Morel," he says in that lovely voice. " And it was all my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"That's fine," I say, still a little dazed. "But I have got to get these home to my mother. Sorry, it was also my fault, I guess, as I wasn't really looking either. But it was nice to meet you, er, Morel."

"You too, erm..."

"Linette," I say nervously.

"That's a pretty name. I guess I'll see you around then?" is the last thing he says to me before disappearing into the morning crowds. I stand there for a minute, wondering what to do next, and decide to return the apples to mother and then go to have an emergency chat with Madra.

                                                                             *  *  *

When I arrive at Madra's house, she appears at the door looking worried.

"What's happened?" she asks. "You were only around here yesterday." I smile to show her that all is well. She raises her eyebrows and ushers me inside. " This better be quick," she says. "Kaytlyn needs feeding." 

Once we get into the dining room, I plonk myself down onto a chair and tell all to Madra. All about the pillar of flesh I bumped into this morning and how it turned out to be the angel who went by the name of Morel.

"Yes, I've seen him around town before, but I didn't really look at him closely because he didn't really appeal to me." I look at her, stunned. "Din't look so surprised! I'm married to Darren, remember?"

"Oh yeah. I guess so," I mumble. " But what am I going to do? I can't just love him fro afar and then watch him get married to some other girl. I need to do something, but what?" Madra thinks for a moment or two.

"Well, I could try to help you 'woo' him," she says with a smile. There is a slight pause.

"Well, first things first," I say. "Do you know anything else about him?"

"Um..." Madra ponders some more, then it comes to her. " I know that he is eighteen. And at the moment he is not betrothed. But that's all I know." I sigh.

"Well at least it's a start. I should be getting home now; my porridge is probably getting cold." I stand up and bid farewell to Madra before setting off home through the sunny streets of our small southern English city.

Indeed, when I get home, my porridge is cold, but I eat it anyway. My mother always cooks the best tasting food which is why she sometimes bakes cakes for the bakery near the market cross, but I never go with her to deliver them because I heard that the baker has a son and I don't want mother to get any ideas. Unfortunately, my father has already invited them them to dinner at Christmas, which is only a few months away now. Apparently, it's just because they're friends of the family, but I'd wager that he is inviting them in order to get a proper look at their son.

And now that is even more of a problem because I am in love with Morel and could not possibly fall for another man who is twice my age. Well, most of the men my father pulls up for betrothal are at least twenty-eight. I will have to do something about Morel and I now.