FifteenA cool breeze hit Vicky as she climbed out of her car. The door half slammed itself, such was the force of the wind that was beginning to kick itself up around her. She walked briskly, pulling her jacket around her as she headed for the local hall. It was on the opposite side of the road to St Stephens Church. Vicky had observed the abandoned vicarage as she had approached in her car, noticing the pulled curtains and unruly lawn. Her brown boots skipped over unsteady paving slabs as she reached a small set of concrete steps at the side of the building. Taking two at a time with the use of the handrail, she found herself in front of a semi-glazed door. She peered inside, observing a dozen or so women, sat in a tight circle. Her mother's steely grey hair was easy to pick out, nodding
