Amelia's POV
"Clayton, Amelia, Peter, James!" I heard my mother call over the throng of people.
We wandered towards my parents though out worried parents trying to keep track their young children, newly reunited couples that had decided the best greeting was to mix saliva in front of everyone and older grandparents cuddling their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren as they visited them for the Christmas period.
As I walked towards my parents I noticed that my mother had dyed her hair again.
She was always changing her appearance, and she always looked spotlessly beautiful.
She had a sculpted figure which was twine-thin, her waist was tapered and she had a burnished complexion.
A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes and her delicate ears framed a butt
