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kaija-rayne-author · 9 months

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Wow. So much dislike about elves generally preferring to be barefoot in the Dragon Age world.

Y'all.

Why elves not wearing shoes in Dragon Age is completely logical.

Okay, so it’s not a huge secret that I grew up poor. We're talking hardscrabble poor. The kind of poor most people don't think even exists in the western world anymore (I guarantee it does).

To someone with very little ability to buy things, shoes just aren't the priority everyone seems to think they are. City elves are poor in most depictions.

The Dalish would likely feel they'd rather use the materials for something else. They may not be as poor as city elves, but they likely wouldn't be wasteful either. Depending on where they wintered, they might not even use them then. I go out barefoot in light snow and frost, you do actually get used to it.

Fenris is a former slave with lyrium tattoos on his feet. The tattoos cause him pain when touched. Of course he doesn't wear shoes.

I never had shoes in the spring/summer/fall. They just did not exist in my understanding of the world. There was no need to buy and ruin a pair of shoes when feet toughen up just fine.

I grew up in the Adirondack Mountains, by the way. There are a lot of bloody rocks there. You can't dig very far down before you hit bedrock up there.

We had horses and dogs too, (yes, I'm aware of the crappy juxtaposition of parents who pay for horses but not shoes) so it's not like we're talking a pristine woodland.

I'd get a pair of sneakers/runners before school started (usually second hand) and a pair of boots in the winter. I remember having to wear bread bags around my feet inside my boots to keep them dry and whole. Less likely to get frostbite that way.

I distinctly remember my first brand new pair of shoes. I remember my second and third pairs too.

Even now, when I have far too many shoes, more than I could ever need, (I've got a thing for boots, my kids tell me my collection is 'extra'. They're right 🤣) I still prefer to go barefoot. From around April to November, I just don't wear shoes unless I have to. Like, to go into a store or public area; I'll reluctantly wear proper footwear to hike in (and even then they usually wind up over my shoulder instead of where they belong) shoes just aren't the absolute necessity so many folks act like.

I'm aware of what Gaider said about it, that he blamed (unfairly) the art team. It's the director's job to approve things like that, so, uh, bad form.

Still.

It is very possible to have a strong preference for no shoes. You don't really miss what you never had. And to me, it feels like y'all wearing shoes all the time is weird and likely unhealthy. In fact, it kinda is.

"Walking barefoot helps to improve circulation which increases the nourishment of nerves, muscles, and bone of the foot and helps minimize swelling of the lower extremities. Walking barefoot may also help improve the strength and flexibility of the muscles and ligaments of the foot which improves the function of the foot, reducing injuries of the foot, and improving posture and balance of the body."

At most, for just every day, I'll wear a pair of flops if I think the terrain is dangerous enough to warrant it. That's very rarely. I do have a habit of watching where I step though.

In spring, I go out on the tarmacadam to intentionally toughen my feet up. And no, my feet aren't calloused monstrosities.

It's just kinda mind-blowing to me how essential so many people seem to feel shoes are. They just aren't.

To me, it makes perfect sense that the elves, a historically repressed and abused people (sort of like a lot of my ancestors) don't feel they're necessary.

In a medivalish world like Dragon Age, where blights or false gods or wars keep tearing civilization to pieces, shoes would be ridiculously expensive. I mean, soldiers didn't take boots because they thought they were cool. They did it for resale value.

And cobblering is incredibly skilled labour. I was lucky enough to find someone who still knew how to keep my favourite boots alive longer. That guy could make those boots look almost brand new.

But in that world, poor elves would absolutely not be likely to wear shoes.

Shoes feel incredibly confining to someone who didn't grow up wearing them. I utterly loathe the way shoes feel.

I've also been a dancer and martial artist for a large portion of my life. Two groups of people you'll frequently find barefoot.

The way you walk in shoes is completely different from how you walk barefoot.

It's also an incredibly privileged viewpoint to utterly insist shoes are necessary and that elves in a video game should absolutely have to have them.

The only thing I'm annoyed about is that the armours often include boots, which my elves just wouldn't wear. I should have a barefoot option.

It may not be strictly cannon, for the whys behind barefoot elves, but it makes complete sense.

The only elf I'll say it doesn't make sense for is Solas. Why he doesn't wear shoes could just be a big commitment to his cover of elven apostate hobo.

Or perhaps his culture didn't think shoes necessary any more than I do. That would also explain why elves could have a preference for no shoes, it could be a holdover tradition because they all descend from the Elvhen.

It's true that you develop a sense for the earth, or trees, or whatever you're walking on if you don't wear shoes. I spent a lot of time with a book in trees, because few people would climb as high as me so I was safe there. It could easily be that elves wouldn't want to lose that sense, too.

You can learn a lot about an area by what the surface feels like under your feet. If you're a hunter, it's sometimes easier to track if you know your quarry prefers a certain type of terrain. You don't need to look down if you can feel the ground.

In fact, despite what people may think, my feet are incredibly sensitive. Tough, yes, but still very 'feely'.

Point made, I'll stop blathering now 😅.

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#dragon age series #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solas #DAO #da origins #dragon age elves #DA2 #Dragon Age 2 #dragon age meta #Fenris

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mommaleftovers · 4 days

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Creepypasta x Zolgoid Oc

TW: Some violence?

"Tarma, my dear you know I hate it when you leave for so long..so answer my question truthfully, okay?" The 9 foot tall, grey skin woman patted the 5'11 half demon man, calling her ex-apprentice by his old nickname which was Tarmacadam but Tarma for short.

With the simple nod coming from the man known as Eyeless Jack. Not daring to look up at his ex-mentor, Asphalt.

"Why'd you run away? I gave you a home, training to make you powerful, food. Why ditch all of that? hm?" She glared down at the half-demon man

"I..I just wanted to know what it'll be like if I wandered off alone-" Jack shakily murmured his reply, trembling just a bit as he finally looked up at Asphalt but got slapped before he could finish, stumbling back and to the side a bit. Looking down as he heard his ex-mentor yell, being an earful

"You ungrateful man-child! Just fucken answer truthfully, Tarma! Before i beat the shit out of you to the point you'll be unrecognizable!" She yelled, raising her hand one more time, threatening to slap Jack again

"Okay! Okay!" He immediately raised his arms to protect his head and face, then spoke up once again but being sly with how he answered "Back at headquarters. I've..I've been bothered by one of the other employees there, about three days after you took me in, he guided me somewhere, forgot, still slightly blind..then" he stopped when being pulled into a hug

"I'm sorry Jack! you should've told me, I would've done something about it! Tell me who it is so i can kill that sick fuck, please!" Asphalt held her apprentice close

Jack stayed quiet, feeling a bit guilty that he told his ex-mentor a lie. Knowing that she is a victim of sexual assault by her younger brother, Zalgo.

Then finally muttered his replied after what seemed like hours "I don't..know"

"It's okay, I'll find him and rip off his dick..I'll make sure you won't be harmed in any way" She softly reassured Jack, then leaned his head back and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead "I'm sorry for slapping you, got angry you ran away..I understand why now, once I find out who did it, I'll kill him and bring you back."

"For now, we'll head back to the mansion and tell Slender that we didn't want to buy stuff for the mansion and others" Asphalt stood up from kneeling, dusting off her knees.

"How are you going to do that? a man like Slender, you know how he is" Jack looked up at the tall woman, soon following behind her

"Relax, I'll give him head" She smirked, licking her top lip

"Wait, you've been fucking my boss?!"

"Tch, I wish! He's always so monotone, nonchalant and dry! so mysterious, demanding and rough!~" Asphalt bit her bottom lip to hard, her arms crossed over her chest and squeezed herself. Tail flicking excitedly behind her, face flushed and her eyes full of lust as she thought of Slenderman..but in a different light

"Calm yourself.." Jack murmured, watching his ex-mentor act a way towards his boss

(I'll edit more of the story later, but not now!)

#slenderverse #creepypasta oc #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #oc x canon #story

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poormansdreams · 1 year

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eimearkuopio · 2 months

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Found art

Medium: post-it on tarmacadam

Durham, UK

February 29th 2024

[Alt text: a discarded post-it reading "PLEASE LEAVE THIS HERE" lies, seemingly abandoned, on a tarmac path. A small piece of cardboard rests nearby.]

#found art

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worawatedirect · 8 months

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#Tarmac Driveways Ringwood #Tarmac Driveways #Tarmac Driveways Services

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readingvocabulary · 8 months

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Les Murray

peneplain - a more or less level land surface produced by erosion over a long period, undisturbed by crustal movement

commissure - the joint between two bones; a band of nerve tissue connecting the hemispheres of the brain, the two sides of the spinal cord, etc

niveaux - plateaus

hyaline - a smooth sea or a clear sky; (chiefly of cartilage) glassy and translucent in appearance.

ruched

taupe - dark brownish grey (mole)

moraine - ridge of rock deposited along the edge of a glacier

pleasance - a secluded enclosure or part of a garden, especially one attached to a large house

vol (fr. flight)

surcingle - horse strap

nacre - mother of pearl

misericord

jacquard - a fabric has a design or motif woven into the construction of the weave

entail

philtre - love potion

chenille - soft fabric

shako - military cap

cullet

mucilage

paraison

marvered

spirochaetes

peruke - wig

jute

roan

distinguo - subtle distinction

decrepitation - the crackling or breaking up of certain crystals when they are heated

coralline - reddish, pinkish red

quoin - an external angle of a wall or building

coign - a projecting corner or angle of a wall

prehension - the act of taking hold, seizing, or grasping; mental understanding : comprehension

Oligocene

scads - a large number or quantity

gamboge - deep yellow

formic - relating to ants

rales - small clicking, bubbling, or rattling sounds in the lungs

escutcheon - shield or emblem bearing a coat of arms; flat piece of metal for protection and often ornamentation, around a keyhole, door handle, or light switch

pilum - Roman javelin

corniche - a road cut into the edge of a cliff, especially one running along a coast

bouillon - broth

impetigo - highly contagious skin infection that causes red sores on the face

goffer - crimp the lace edges of (a garment) with a heated implement

jardinière - decorative pot holder

terebinth - turpentine tree

chyle

sejant - animal upright in heraldry

cloison - dividing partition

mantling - piece of ornamental drapery depicted issuing from a helmet and surrounding a shield

marques - brand

lakatois - double-hulled sailing watercraft of Papua New Guinea.

ormolu - gilt bronze

azolla - aquatic fern

loden - dark green woolen cloth

donjon - medieval tower

pintle - a pin or bolt, usually inserted into a gudgeon, which is used as part of a pivot or hinge

antiphonary - a book of plainsong for the Divine Office

grimoire

oppidum - large fortified Iron Age settlement or town

tarmacadam - tarmac

cassia

caraway

schist

piste - a ski run of compacted snow

Gaeldom - Areas in which some Gaelic languages (Scottish Gaelic and Manx) are spoken

doughboy - United States soldiers during World War I

paseo (Sp.) - walk

coatee - a woman's or infant's short coat

VVS - “very very slightly included” diamond

illimitable - without limits or an end

Wilton rug - Axminster carpets are made by creating carpet tufts of equal length before attaching them to the backing. Wilton create pile in a continuous loop, and the cutting takes place once the pile has been attached to the backing

impatiens - flower genus

maidan - an open area or space in or near a town, often used as a marketplace or parade ground

sett - a hole in the ground, often with several passages and different entrances

fusee - flare?

finial - architectural elements typically used as decorative or ornamental features that mark the top or end of domes, spires, roofs, gables, buildings

perigee - the point in the orbit of the moon or a satellite at which it is nearest to the earth

pince-nez - style of glasses

shofar - Jewish horn

lorn - lonely

bowstave

bleb - blister

chiacking - the exchange of jeering or teasing remarks

arraign - call or bring (someone) before a court to answer a criminal charges

curcurbit - plant from gourd family

abyssal - of or relating to the bottom waters of the ocean depths; impossible to comprehend : unfathomable

tilth - tilled soil

sub rosa - in secret

antic - grotesque, bizarre

his nibs

talus - a slope formed especially by an accumulation of rock debris

Nunc Stans - Eternal existence as an attribute of God

oriel - a large upper-storey bay with a window

fistmele - is the breadth of a fist with thumb stuck out used especially in archery to give the correct height of a string from a braced bow

potch - opal which has no play of colour and is of no value

Borsalino - Italian hat

welter - confused mass, turmoil

infra dig

nose-gaffed

septum/septa

camelid

bitou - invasive bush

acrophobia - fear of heights

switchback - a road which goes up a steep hill in a series of sharp bends, or a sharp bend in a road

amethystine - scrub python

cotillon - 18th century dance

grue (Scot) - a shiver or shudder; a creeping of the flesh

cottar - in Scotland and Ireland a farm labourer or tenant occupying a cottage in return for labour

tufa - variety of limestone formed when carbonate minerals precipitate out of water in unheated rivers or lakes

fig - dress, appearance

bourdon - drone

fado - Portuguese music

paladin - trusted military leader; a leading champion of a cause

gelid - icy, extremely cold

natron - baking soda

baulk - roughly squared timber beam

clamant - urgently demanding attention

cupidity - greed for money or possessions

avocation - a hobby or minor occupation

unexceptionable - not open to objection, but not particularly new or exciting

drupe - a fleshy fruit with thin skin and a central stone containing the seed, e.g. a plum, cherry, almond, or olive

bund - retaining wall

Ishihara dots

rrark - Aboriginal cross-hatching

unkent - unknown, strange (Scot.)

jarl - a Norse or Danish chief

ebullition - a sudden outburst of emotion or violence

dunnage - a person's belongings, especially those brought on board ship

coggage

stetl - a small Jewish town or village formerly found in Eastern Europe

pukka

recension - a revised edition of a text

coeval - a person of roughly the same age as oneself; a contemporary

peculator - embezzler

pasquil - a satire or lampoon

asthenic (asthenia) - abnormal physical weakness or lack of energy

canaille - common people; the masses

monorchidism - (or monorchism) the state of having only one testicle within the scrotum

sera - an amber-coloured, protein-rich liquid which separates out when blood coagulates

ichor - fluid that flows like blood in the veins of the gods; watery discharge from a wound

bordure - In heraldry, a band of contrasting tincture forming a border around the edge of a shield

boi meat - ox meat (Galician)

in-continuo

chivvy - tell (someone) repeatedly to do something

biltong - dried meat

wobbegong - carpet shark

bijou - small dainty usually ornamental piece of delicate workmanship : jewel; something delicate, elegant, or highly prized

placket - a finished opening in the upper part of trousers or skirts, or at the neck, front, or sleeve of a garment

tumbril - two wheeled cart

grab-bar

gomp

beetle bix

dottle - unburned and partially burned tobacco in the bowl of a pipe

mezedes or meze - small plates of appetisers (Greek)

whale sounding - diving

bootless - ineffectual, useless

galligaskins - loose wide hose or breeches worn in the 16th and 17th centuries

Ricardian - people who dispute the negative posthumous reputation of King Richard III of England

precarian (precariat) - a social class formed by people suffering from precarity, which means existing without predictability or security, affecting material or psychological welfare. The term is a portmanteau merging precarious with proletariat

besoming - sweeping (besom - a broom made of twigs tied round a stick)

gilet - a waist- or hip-length garment, usually sleeveless, fastening up the front; sometimes made from a quilted fabric, and designed to be worn over a blouse, shirt, etc; bodice resembling a waistcoat in a woman's dress

swart - swarthy, dark

voile - sheer fabric

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lizzygreywrites · 10 months

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Can Becca allow herself to trust, forgive and love again?

Rebecca Burns has been running and hiding from her drug-dealing family all her adult life and trusts no one. An injury ended her career in London’s Metropolitan Police, and when she took a chance on love, she discovered Stephen cheating on her. Changing her name, she runs and hides again, despite being pregnant with Stephen’s child. ‘Becca Hills’ and her son live a deliberately quiet life in a London tower block, but when she is involved in a road traffic accident, she finds Stephen and her past catching up with her. Can Becca allow herself to trust, forgive and love again?

Read An Excerpt From Chapter One

They were late for school. Very late. And she had no one to blame but herself. She had forgotten to top up the electricity meter, the power had gone off sometime in the middle of the night and, as a result, her clock radio had failed to wake her at eight o’clock.

Waiting at the pedestrian crossing, she pushed her left sleeve up and looked at her watch. It was two minutes past nine.

“Fuck.”

“Naughty word, Mummy.” Tommy pulled her hand.

“I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said the naughty word. Oh, there’s the green man. Keep hold of my hand, it’s after nine o’clock.”

They crossed the street and she crouched down outside the school gates. She gave him a hug and a kiss, put a clean handkerchief in his trouser pocket and was about to pass him his bright yellow school rucksack when feet approached quickly from behind. She went to straighten up and move aside when she was given a hard shove and she found herself sprawled and winded on the footpath on top of the rucksack. Heaving herself up onto her hands and knees, she peered behind her as a dark-haired woman picked Tommy up and ran across the pedestrian crossing with him.

“No.” She tried to scream, but the word only came out as a croak.

She got to her feet and ran after them onto the crossing as a car horn beeped and tyres screeched on the tarmacadam…

* * *

Okay, this was strange. Why couldn’t she see clearly? Everything was fuzzy but, focusing as hard as she could, she could see the outline of someone sitting in a chair. Reaching out, her fingers found the edges of the bed. It was a single, so she couldn’t be in her double bed at home. So, where was she? Inhaling a strong whiff of disinfectant, her nose wrinkled. Hospital? How had she ended up in hospital? Blinking and widening her eyes made no difference to the fuzziness so, shutting them, she slept.

When she opened her eyes again her vision was clear. Blue curtains surrounded her single bed. She could hear feet rushing up and down outside and someone throwing up a little too close to her for comfort. It could only be an Accident and Emergency cubicle. Rolling onto her back, she winced as her head began throbbing. Fuck. No, don’t swear. Mustn’t swear in case Tommy heard. Tommy! She tried to sit up but couldn’t, she was lying on her hair. Twisting around for the emergency button, she spotted Stephen. Inhaling her breath, she coughed and almost choked.

Sitting and leaning slightly forward in a plastic chair beside the bed, he was holding a lock of her waist-length curly blonde hair in his fingers and watching her without a sound. Oh, bloody hell, of all the officers in the London Metropolitan Police, it had to be Stephen. Coughing, she lay back on the pillow until it passed. Then her head started pounding again and he spoke.

“You’re in the Accident and Emergency Department at St Hilary’s Hospital. You have bruising and mild concussion.” She nodded and instantly regretted it. “What do you remember?”

“What information do you have?” she asked.

“You first,” he replied and she heaved herself up a little on the pillows, spotting huge purple bruises on her elbow and upper right arm, but relieved she was still wearing her T-shirt and jeans.

“I was outside the school gates saying goodbye to Tommy. I gave him a hug and a kiss and I was about to pass him his school rucksack. Then—” She went to shake her head but stopped herself just in time. “Then, I heard feet running up behind us. I went to step to one side with Tommy to let whoever it was pass us but she pushed me over and grabbed Tommy from me. She picked Tommy up and ran across the road with him. I got up and went after them but a car got in the way.”

He nodded. “The woman has been described as tall, well-built and dark-haired.”

“It was Jackie,” she said and watched him shrink back from her.

“Jackie Burns?” he demanded. “You’re sure?”

“You think I’d forget my only sister-in-law and what she and you did?”

“Do you have a current address for her?” he asked, instead of rising to the bait.

“No, I bloody don’t but she’s probably still at the same fancy apartment.”

“Okay, I’ll send some officers there. I won’t be a moment.” Taking a smartphone out of the inside pocket of his black suit jacket, he got up and pulled the curtain aside before going out. She heard him speaking in low but urgent tones to someone and being told to turn the phone off by a female voice.

“When was the last time you spoke to Jackie?” he continued, coming back into the cubicle. “Or seen her?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“And Tommy is how old?” he asked, retaliating at last.

She glared at him before throwing back the bedcovers. Gingerly, she got out of bed, and carefully crouched down at the bedside locker. Opening the door, she saw that her jacket and shoes, handbag and plastic hair clasp had been shoved inside and she began pulling them out, feeling him watch her every move.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not staying here exchanging smart comments with you, Stephen,” she replied, throwing the items onto the bed. Straightening up, she gathered her hair together and pinned it up as best she could with the plastic clasp. “Get a nurse, I’m discharging myself.”

“What? No. Absolutely not. For God’s sake, you’ve got a head injury, you need to be admitted and kept under observation.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “If you won’t get a nurse, I’ll go and find one myself.”

Swearing under his breath, Stephen pulled the curtain aside and left the cubicle again.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they left an exasperated staff nurse behind and waited for the lift to come down from the fourth floor.

“Detective Constable Jan Carter will be assigned to you as your liaison officer,” Stephen told her. “She’s on her way to your flat now. We got your address from the school.”

“Not you?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then, who’s heading the investigation?” she added.

“I am,” he replied, extending a hand as the lift doors opened and she went in. “I’m a Detective Inspector now. So don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.” He followed her inside, the doors closed, and he pressed the button for the ground floor. “When exactly were you going to tell me I had a son?”

“When exactly were you going to tell me you were sleeping with my brother’s wife?”

He sighed. “It happened once. It was the biggest mistake I have ever made.”

Not wanting to stare at him as the lift brought them up from the lower ground floor, she took the opportunity to observe him in the mirrors lining the walls. The black suit he wore was creased, his cheeks were heavily stubbled, and he seemed exhausted. Had he been in the hospital all night with her? If it had been night time. What time was it, actually? She pushed her jacket sleeve up her left wrist to look at her watch but it wasn’t there. She sighed and focused her attention on the mirrors again.

Stephen’s dark hair and stubble made him appear deathly pale but that could be shock, too. Finding her again after so long and discovering he had a five-year-old son was enough to knock anyone sideways. Six years ago she’d thought he was the love of her life but then he’d betrayed her in the worst possible way. How did she feel seeing him again now and hearing his regret? She went to raise a hand to her throbbing head before lowering it, not wanting to hear another lecture on how she should still be in bed and under observation. She just wanted Tommy back. She’d contemplate her feelings for Stephen when she could think straight.

Tailing him across the hospital car park, she watched as he beeped open a black Ford Focus and opened the passenger door for her.

“Who knows about us?” she asked, getting in as he walked around the car before getting into the driver’s seat.

“No one.”

“But you’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Just you watch me. I’m quite good at keeping secrets, too.” He reached for his seat belt. “Look, if you’d prefer for someone else to take over, just tell me.”

“No, but be careful for God’s sake.”

* * *

Following her directions, he pulled up in a car park located in front of three dilapidated 1960s tower blocks.

“Which one do you live in?” he asked, craning his neck to get a better look at them.

“Tommy and I live on the top floor of the middle one.”

“The top?” he echoed and she saw him try to hide a grimace.

The lift wasn’t working yet again so they climbed the stairs to the twenty-fourth floor, stepping over hypodermic needles and used condoms. In a way, she was relieved, who knows what delights they might have seen or smelt in the lift. She waited for Stephen to make a comment but, to her surprise, he said nothing.

A young woman with short ginger hair was waiting outside the flat and Stephen introduced her as Detective Constable Jan Carter. Becca searched her handbag for her keys, hoping they weren’t lying on the road outside Tommy’s school, before finding them beside her watch at the very bottom. She opened the battered front door and the three of them went into the flat, Stephen telling the Detective Constable that he had been given an address and officers were on their way there.

The two-bedroomed council flat was like going through a time warp back to the nineteen seventies. Everything was brown – the colour of poo – as Tommy had once described it. She hadn’t been able to afford to re-decorate yet, except for Tommy’s bedroom with wallpaper she had bought in a closing-down sale, and to paint over the horrific swirly living room wallpaper with the cheapest Magnolia-coloured paint she could find.

“Are you up to being questioned?” Jan asked her gently.

“Questioned?” She threw her handbag onto the ancient, sagging, and bloody uncomfortable brown sofa. “Jackie Burns took Tommy and I want him back.”

“Sir?” Jan turned to Stephen, standing at the scratched chipboard display cabinet examining the framed photographs. He had one of Tommy in his hands. God, they were so alike.

“Tommy’s birthday?” he enquired, looking straight past Jan and at her.

“Yes. His fifth. Take it.”

“‘Concepta aged ten’.” Jan had picked up and glanced at the back of a framed photograph of her as a ten-year-old and which had been inscribed by her mother.

“I’m Concepta,” she explained. “Well, I was. The first thing I did when I left school was to change my name by deed poll. I’m Rebecca Hills now. Becca for short.”

“Concepta – bloody hell.”

“Tell me about it.” She almost smiled. “So, you can understand why I much prefer Becca. At school, I might as well have had a notice tattooed on my forehead with, ‘Bully Me’ on it. Except, no one dared to.”

“Why not?” Jan frowned.

“My original surname was Burns.”

“Burns.” Jan’s face paled. “You’re a member of the Burns family from the East End? Your mother is Ma Burns?”

“That’s right. She had six kids and I was the only girl. You might have heard of my eldest brother, Pat?” she enquired.

Jan nodded. “So Jackie Burns is your sister-in-law?”

“Yes. I haven’t seen nor spoken to her for nearly six years, nor to any of my family for a good few years before that.”

“Why is that?” Jan took a notebook from her handbag and opened it.

“My mother had named me after her mother, so she never forgave me for changing my name. But I’d always felt different – like I didn’t belong with them – and I longed to escape. She’d done her best to turn me into her – so I could take over from her when the time came – or become head of my own family of drug dealers eventually. She sent me away to a posh boarding school and I wasn’t allowed to mix with the local kids when I was home. But I hated my names and I hated being brought up wrapped in cotton wool so I changed my name and I moved away. But they couldn’t – or wouldn’t – leave me alone. Six years ago my brother, John, left Jackie for another woman shortly after they discovered she couldn’t have children. Jackie went to pieces. Somehow, she managed to track me down and she found out I was pregnant. She was jealous. She couldn’t allow me to be happy while she wasn’t, so she slept with my partner. It worked.” Becca gave Jan a bitter smile. “I left him.”

Trust No One is out now on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.

Amazon - http://mybook.to/Trust-No-One

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