Harriette, love John

The circumstances which brought these best friends together are extraordinary. When Harriette Lawrence, Jonathon Parker, Rosanna Stephens, Florence Vitzhoven-Ellis, Rowland Carrington and Henry Thomas meet on a wet Tuesday afternoon in the Psychiatric Surgery of Dr Lawrence, Harriette’s Father, they have no idea of the good times and the not so good times they will have together as a six for the next thirteen years of their lives.
But there is a Judas among them, one of our super six is starting to show signs of going off the rails and does something drastic that will end lives as they know it. Now faced with this new situation the gang have to grow up much quicker than they ever imagined.


3. Henry

“From ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” the Vicar said but the little boy wasn’t listening. He sat there, in the front pew in between his Mother and his Father. For once in his life he felt so alone, it was a feeling he had not felt in his life, being one of four children he was never far from someone. Though now his younger twin siblings, Max and Gabby, were at home with a friend of the family and his older brother Patrick was at the front of the church, in the coffin, it was his funeral.

“Are you alright Henry?” His Mother whispered. She had hold of his hand and was holding it tightly. He nodded his head, and then he rested it on his Mother’s arm. He wanted to be anywhere, anywhere in the world but here. He wished he wasn’t burying his older brother, he wasn’t that much older.

Patrick had just turned eighteen, he was returning home from college. He was a good boy. He didn’t drink or smoke, at least not excessively. He held a full clean driver’s license and had never been in trouble with the police. Quite the angel everyone had said, now the angel was taking his place besides God himself, where he belonged. It was an ordinary night, Patrick was coming home to his family, he had just said goodbye to his girlfriend, he had walked her home and then he was going home to his own family. He was less than five minutes away from the house he was born in; Patrick was walking along the pavement about to cross the road. He looked both ways, just like he had been taught when he was a little boy, he saw it was clear and then he stepped out into the road and… that was it. A drunk driver ran him down and then fled, leaving the lifeless angel lying in the road.

The church was full, hundreds of friends and family had turned up to pay their respect to the popular boy. His family and closest friends were sat in the front pew, closest to the coffin.

The entire church raised as the vicar lifted his hands. The church sung a hymn, together in unison, the voices collectively almost sounded like a chorus of angels had graced them with their heavenly presence. They had come to rescue the fallen angel Patrick and take him back to God.

Henry stood but he didn’t say anything, he hadn’t spoken in days, not since the police officer came to his home two weeks ago and brought the news. That day ruined his life, the officer came late at night, and he knocked on the door and delivered the news, like an angel of death his face was solemn. He said he was very sorry, that Patrick was a good kid who didn’t deserve it, but he didn’t mean it. The police man had never met Patrick before he helped lift his dead body from the road, he didn’t know Patrick. He had no right to say he was a good kid, he didn’t know the half of it.    

Henry wanted to speak but he didn’t have to words to describe how he felt, in fact, he was sure there were no words in the English dictionary to describe exactly how he felt, the regret. The pain and the anger he felt raging in his blood.

As everyone made their way out of the church when the service was over he managed to escape, he ran outside of the doors as quick as he could. He quickly sprinted around behind the back of the church. He walked amongst the grave stone; he knew that in a few minutes his brother would be below ground as well. He would be like all of these other people buried here, forgotten and abandoned by their families. But not his Patrick, Henry wouldn’t let that happen, his brother was too precious to him, Henry would never forget his dear brother for as long as he lived.

“I will make sure nothing like this happens again,” he whispered under his breathe. “You mark my words Patrick,” he said. He vowed he would do all he could to catch every last drink driver in the whole of the world, he then saw how unrealistic that seemed and then settled for the whole of London.

“I’ll join the police force, I’ll become a detective. I’ll solve crimes and arrest every bad guy so no one else will die,” he assured his brother, he was certain Patrick was listening and he was certain he would make a difference.

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