2 - The Journey Begins

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The clock reads barely past five a.m. and yet the sun is already rising into a cloudless sky. I had that dream again.

On autopilot I glide downstairs, trailing my fingers along the mahogany banister, which is silky smooth from over a hundred years of use. My feet carry me into the mecca of the kitchen. I pop a capsule into the machine and lean against the marble counter as the room fills with a delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Bitter, nutty flavours dance across my tongue and I start to properly wake. While I don't drink much alcohol, coffee is my weakness. Once fortified with the first cup of the day, my attention turns to the manila envelope that I found in my grandmother's study not long after her passing.

With a shaking hand, the contents slide out onto the counter: a silver locket studded with diamonds, a letter inked on thick parchment paper and a yellowing newspaper cutting. Through a film of tears, the words of the article entitled the 'midsummer mystery babe' swim into focus. I double check my destination - the place where I was found.

Taking a steadying breath, I push my emotions down and replace everything in the envelope, before carefully placing it in the rucksack. Then I pack the bag with everything that one might conceivably need. Although hefting it over my shoulder, I concede that I might have been a tad excessive.

Deciding to get this over with, I step outside and unlock my sky-blue Mini, chucking the bag on the passenger's seat. I glance up at my house and a shiver goes down my spine for it almost feels like I'm saying goodbye.

After putting the coordinates into the SatNav, I drive off. I rarely go on motorways, so to ease my nerves, I crank up the volume on the radio and sing along as the miles are eaten up.

An hour or so later, I end up in what seems like the middle of nowhere and park beside a massive Land Rover. I heave a relieved breath. Well so far, so good! No accidents. Maybe everything will be fine this birthday.

After checking the site map, I head off towards the place where I was found. Trees arc overhead to form a green tunnel before the path breaks into the sunlight. To the right, the ground slopes away in undulating heathland, whilst on the left is woodland.

Nerves gnaw at my stomach as I get closer to my destination; a wooden bench set under the dappled shade of a magnificent giant oak tree. A lump forms in my throat as my finger traces the words on the plaque:

For Elissa, the greatest gift.

"Mum! Dad! I miss you so much."

Blinking back the tears that threaten to fall, I sit on the bench. They never told me that I was abandoned at this very spot, nor that they adopted me. I suppose they never got the chance. We were so happy until the fire took everything on my twelfth birthday. Another headline, another miracle, for I should have died. Guilt twists inside.

This place is peaceful, a pastoral scene of heathland sloping gently down into a valley and a patchwork of green fields in the distance. There is the soft sound of ponies rustling through the heather, searching out tender shoots to graze on. The subtle aroma of gorse wafts on the breeze. The scent reminds me of coconut ice cream.

Well, I am here at the start, or as close as I can be, what do I do now?

I slouch against the bench and start to feel drowsy until a strange sensation, like a feather tickling down my spine, has me sitting bolt upright.

'Elissa.'

I whip my head around at the sound of my name being called from the woods behind me. Unsettled, but equally curious, I scramble up the steep bank and find a clearing in the trees. A beam of sunlight shines upon a pure white horse. It looks more like a thoroughbred racehorse than one of the ponies roaming around the place.

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