Angelica Umbertini closed the front door of her flat and hobbled to the garage. Dragging open the heavy wooden door she limped inside to deposit her small Jack Russell dog into the wire basket situated in front of the handlebars of her motorised disability scooter.

"There Patch, time for your walk again," she said, stroking his soft fur.

Patch perched in the basket - his brown ears pricked up, tail wagging, paws hung over the front of the basket. He licked Angelica's face in eager anticipation of what was to come.

Angelica left her flat at 6.00 a.m. every day in order to take Patch for his morning walk. She did not sleep too well these days as her diseased hip hurt when she lay on it, and anyway she reckoned that at eighty two she did not need too much sleep. She had plenty of opportunity to doze while sitting in the armchair during the day. Angelica was a small, genteel lady, neatly dressed in a navy blue pleated skirt and smart navy and white woollen jacket. She never could get on with those new fangled anoraks; all quilted and puffy they made her look like a Michelin man. She may be well past her sell by date but she still had standards.

She loved the early morning - it was so fresh and bright. The pale green leaves of trees and flowers looking newly washed for the coming day. Birds sang their hearts out as she passed, especially in early summer when the skies were invariably clear at such an early hour. Angelica breathed in deeply to enjoy the cool, sweet smelling air. Naturally, in winter her timetable altered somewhat, but as soon as the days grew longer she was up and out on the sleek, black scooter that had become her lifeline. Without it she would be all but housebound, and certainly unable to take Patch for his morning and evening walks.

Patch had been her only companion over the past six years, and a faithful one he was too. He waited eagerly for his walks in the park, but when Angelica's arthritis deteriorated badly she feared she might never be able to walk him again. Then she discovered mobility scooters, and after purchasing one had quickly taught herself to manoeuvre it. Owning the scooter allowed her to go shopping again, as well as visit the library and doctor, but best of all she could still take Patch out. He enjoyed perching in the wire basket to ride to the leafy park in the middle of the small country town of Woodbridge. Once inside the park gates Angelica put him down and he was free to run the length and breadth of the broad sweeps of grass, sniffing out the trails of unseen animals and rummaging amongst bushes while Angelica trundled round the paths on her scooter. When Patch was tired he was placed back into the basket and taken home. The arrangement worked perfectly.

Angelica's disability had forced her to give up many of the things she enjoyed in life. Gardening had been a passion; growing each season's flowers from seed, nurturing then planting them out, watering and tending them through the summer months. Now her small garden was transformed for 'easy maintenance'. There were swathes of gravel and stone, a few shrubs surrounded by bark chippings, and a host of terracotta pots. A gardener came once a month to keep things in order, but she still missed getting her hands dirty among the flower beds. Lunch meetings with old friends had ceased as had the few evening meetings she used to attend. But now that she had her scooter she could at least enjoy the company of her friends once more. The scooter was easy to operate as well as easy to maintain. All she had to do was recharge the batteries after her day's outings, a simple job that Angelica now did without thinking. In fact, she could not remember recharging the batteries last night, but she must have - she always did.

Angelica set off down the road, peering into various neighbours' gardens along the way, eager to see which flowers had come into bloom, delighting in the freshly planted flowers in their tubs and borders. Woodbridge was truly beautiful in summer, she thought. She rounded the last corner and began climbing the slight incline towards the park. Patch was getting excited now, knowing that his much loved playground was nearby. His tail wagged and he began making low yipping noises in anticipation. Then the black scooter slowed and shuddered, refusing to climb the incline any further. Angelica took her hands off the controls and the machine came to an instant halt. She peered at the controls suspiciously. This had never happened before. Once again she pressed the lever to start the scooter - nothing happened. Angelica felt a tremor of anxiety pass through her. She had charged the battery last night hadn't she? She tried to remember carrying out the operation as she did every evening, but it was impossible. Memories of her evenings were jumbled one into the other - supper, television, scooter and bed, each night identical to the one before.

Patch started whimpering, no doubt wondering why Angelica had not completed the journey and put him down in the park to chase pigeons and sniff his familiar bushes. Angelica climbed off the scooter, patting Patch on the head while peering at the controls and cables - though having no idea what she might be expecting to find. Everything looked in order. She knew there was a dial that showed the state of the batteries but she had never quite understood which direction the needle should be to indicate 'fully charged'. Angelica's lip quivered, and tears filled her tired blue eyes as she wondered what on earth she was going to do. The scooter was heavy. Pushing it home would be beyond her physical abilities. The street was silent and empty, the park still one hundred yards away. She sat on the scooter seat and sobbed. She sobbed with frustration at being trapped in her pain ridden body when her mind still felt so young. She sobbed at having to use a scooter in order to go out, never again having the luxury of using her own two legs to carry her. And she sobbed because never again would she be able to dance or have the opportunity to kiss the soft lips of a man who loved her.

As she sobbed she became aware of someone standing beside her and of a hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up to see a young man; tall - maybe six feet two - wearing black jeans and a black sleeveless T Shirt bearing some strange emblem. His brown, muscular forearms were covered with tattoos. He had dark hair cut short to his head and three gold earrings in his left ear. He was the sort of young man that Angelica would normally be nervous of.

"Hello. Are you in trouble? Can I help in some way?"

Angelica looked at his face, his eyes were soft and brown - sensitive eyes, she thought - and within seconds she was pouring out her troubles to this total stranger. She sobbed anew into her handkerchief as she explained that she thought the scooter battery might be flat and she simply did not know what to do. The young man's eyes turned to the indicator and he nodded.

"You're right, it is flat. So, firstly we will push your scooter into the front garden. Then we will put your dog into the back garden, and then we will have a nice cup of tea," he said while helping her from the seat of the scooter.

Angelica watched as he guided the scooter to the front door of a reasonably large and well kept Edwardian house. Surely he is not old enough to own a house like this she thought as she trotted docilely behind him up the path. He lifted Patch from the wire basket and carried him through the front door. Patch wagged his tail and licked the stranger's face. He was even happier when set free in the spacious back garden.

"Right, now I'll put the kettle on." He pulled out a chair for Angelica and invited her to sit down. "My name is Kevin, Kevin Donnelly, and this is my parents' house. My father is working in Dubai on a two year contract - something to do with oil. I am house sitting for them. I cut the grass, take care of the place, that sort of thing. I'm looking for a job in design - without much success so far - so I paint pictures. You might have seen me in town trying to sell them. Painting is an obsession. I get up really early and paint in the front bedroom which I have turned into a studio. That's how I noticed you."

Angelica could remember seeing a young man in town - often sitting on the pavement - always surrounded by paintings for sale. She had considered him to be a down-and-out, and scuttled past in a hurry. She sighed; she should not make snap judgements.

"What is your name?" Kevin asked as he poured boiling water into a teapot and prepared too rather large mugs with milk.

"Angelica Umbertini. I live further along the road on the estate for disabled people."

"Angelica Umbertini. Wow, that's a mouthful. Sounds foreign too."

"It is, my father was Italian. I never married to change the Umbertini," Angelica added as she raised the large china mug to her lips. She liked this young man with his easy going, open attitude. "I was going to marry a young man long ago, but he was killed in the war. If he had lived I would have been Angelica Potts. He was a wonderful person and I loved him very much. There was never anyone to replace him. He used to call me Angel." Her eyes misted with tears at the memory and then she carried on. "Oh, I had men friends after he died, even lived with a man for a couple of years, but they were never like my Tom."

Disbelief crossed Kevin's face. "Oh yes, us old codgers did some naughty things too. I didn't always look like this you know," she remarked coquettishly. "Anyway Angelica Umbertini sounds an awful lot better than Angelica Potts."

Kevin laughed and patted her hand, pronouncing her to be 'alright.'

When they had drunk their tea and the cups were washed Kevin called Patch and bundled him into his 2CV beside Angelica, then drove them both home. He collected the charger for Angelica's scooter and told her that he would drive it back to her later when the batteries were fully charged.

Filled with relief Angelica wandered into her garden where she greeted her elderly neighbour over the fence. He had seen Angelica and Patch arrive with the young man in the jaunty car and was curious. He knew that Angelica had no grandsons or nephews of her own. She explained what had occurred and about Kevin kindly assisting her.

"Phew, you're brave trusting a type like him," Alf scoffed. "Probably down the second hand shop flogging your scooter right now. You won't see him again."

Angelica turned on her heel and stalked indoors as haughtily as her legs and hip would allow.

Esme arrived from number three, ostensibly for coffee but more likely to be nosey. After hearing Angelica's story she shook her head. "I think you have been a bit hasty dear, I've seen that young man in the town square, and he looks a bit of a drop out to me. I do hope everything will be alright." Which probably meant she would be delighted if it wasn't.

Other neighbours threw in their penny worth during the day until Angelica was beginning to feel concerned. When Kevin had not turned up by seven in the evening she had convinced herself that they were right. She went to bed dejected and disillusioned. Patch was not too happy either as he missed his evening walk. He lay in his basket, head on his paws. If a dog can look depressed Patch did.

Patch was even more dejected when his 6 a.m. walk was not forthcoming. Later, Angelica sat at her table munching a slice of toast and marmalade and feeling like a fool. She sighed as she thought of young Kevin. What a delightful young man he had seemed, caring and solicitous. Oh well.

As she cleared away the breakfast things the doorbell rang. There stood Kevin, face alight with smiles, the scooter beside him and at the back a young girl with pink hair.

"Angel, this scooter is the best thing since sliced bread. I can't wait to get one myself. By the way this is my girlfriend Tab - Tabitha really - she went to art school with me." That explained the pink hair! "Well, it's all charged up and ready to go. Sorry I didn't get it back last night but something came up," he said smiling and throwing a mischievous glance at Tab. She smiled back.

Angelica smiled too, she could remember the time when being with each other was more important than anything else.

"Kevin, I can't thank you enough. I owe you so much - I just hope that I can be of help to you some day."

"Angel, would you mind if I came to see you, maybe bring Tab sometimes. I would really like to get to know you and have a stab at painting your portrait. You've got a really interesting face."

"I would be delighted," Angelica said, and before she knew what was happening Kevin leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips.

"Great, see you at the weekend."

"I'll cook dinner if you like." Angelica tentatively offered, not wanting to be a nuisance.

"Wow, roast pork is my favourite, with plenty of apple sauce. See you then Angel."

With that he was gone, Tab with him. Patch looked at her then at the scooter.

"Alright. It isn't our usual time but I suppose we can make an exception." Angelica glowed all over. The super young man had kissed her, and called her Angel. It wasn't quite what she had been yearning for but his freshness and enthusiasm for life made her feel younger. She felt sure this new friend would be around for a while, so she whizzed off up the road contemplating the merits of roast pork over roast beef.

Comments

Opening = 10
Character(s) = 9
Dialogue = 9
Setting = 9
Plot = 8
Suspense = 9
Ending = 10
Enjoyment = 10

Judith, I would go so far as to say that I think this a very publishable story. I think you should send it to "Peoples`Friend" for instance or some magazine like it. Best wishes.

Dorothy Spry

Opening = 6
Character(s) = 8
Dialogue = 8
Setting = 7
Plot = 6
Suspense = 5
Ending = 9
Enjoyment = 7

Jo Austin

Opening = 6
Character(s) = 7
Dialogue = 5
Setting = 6
Plot = 6
Suspense = 4
Ending = 6
Enjoyment = 5

Some very good characterisation here and a well wrought plot.

Philip Neptune

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