Following Tinas gaze, Helenas eyes also widened, then stilled and grew cold.

Bettes smile never wavered, and her head murmured slowly game right on..

Bette stepped forward.

—-

One month earlier

Bette woke, eyes crinkling in protest against the suns rays battering against them.

Oooh Porter, youre getting old when the winter sun can even hurt you..

At the words hurt you a cascade of now old, still grinding emotion unleashed through the increasing frail body she inhabited.

Hollow. She felt hollow.

A long, long sigh issued from her lips.

Crumpling out of bed, into a protesting vertical form on her feet, she then lightly shuffled into the living room, looking like she was kicking invisible leaves, blown from an invisible storm. Internally, she was doing just that – each leaf a memory.

Ive got to get past this. I have to find a wayGod help me, I have to find a way

She flicked the switch on the coffee maker and then the sound system before walking onto the patio. As she stood in the almost biting cool of the morning air, the announcers voice pompously announced and now, from Australia, a new song from unknown artist, Missy Higgins. Wrong channel. Bette winced internally, realizing why it wasnt on the classical music channel she ordinarily listened to. Yet another little bimbo shed brought home.

This one young enough to listen to some teeny-bopper radio station – nice Bette

She smirked to herself as she realized that her conscience was still capable of speaking to her when she hadnt gagged it with scotch. Then suddenly, her breath caught. The hand which had begun to move the remote now in it, meant to return her from the land of muzak, to Mozart stilled. A clear voice threaded a light note across the room and somehow was managing to stick it straight into her heart.

The singer called to her

‘I’ve hardly been outside my room in days,
’cause I don’t feel that I deserve the sunshine’s rays.
The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,
And it was then I realized the conscience never fades.’