"So... do you have something to tell us, Sandy?" asked Barbara teasingly.Sandy turned to her with a slightly guilty grin. "Well, maybe. I was worried ...ou might think I'd lost my mind if you heard I was dating another cop." Hey, I've wanted to meet this guy myself," Barbara replied. "After the good stuff all the kids were telling us about him, I was thinking about tracking him down and jumping his bones myself." What! Barbara, don't you even think about..." Her voice trailed off as she realized. Within hours I was on a train out of London, headed back to Wales.I was morosely reflective throughout the journey westwards and determined to find a quiet ‘bolt hole’ in which to hide and lick my wounds for a couple of weeks. Some years before I had gone on a religious retreat to an old Benedictine monastery, set on Bardsey Island off the Lynn Peninsular. Would Yr Haven still be there? A quick internet search on my iPhone revealed that it was and, fortuitously, a silent retreat was scheduled. "I need to use the washroom, I'll be back in a couple minutes" Tavia told the two of them, and she hopped cheerfully off the stool and across the small diner to the restrooms.The bathroom wasn't the cleanest she had ever seen, but nothing could dampen her spirits now that she had escaped living with her Father. Or so she thought. She heard heavy footsteps behind her, footsteps that didn't sound like they belonged to a woman, and her heart started to race in her chest. She turned around to see a. Mary Beth Caulder.*Most of the mourners had moved on as Uncle Joe and I stood there waiting for the Widow Brannigan to finish talking with some of the townsfolk that knew her. Uncle Joe was a gruff man with a buffalo temperament and a build to match. He had moved in a few years back to try and put down some roots. The old man had long since gone to God knows where to leave Mom having to look after our farm and raise me on her own. I had been just twelve when he disappeared one Saturday in June.