Are you felling better?" she added, concern in her voice."Yes, fine," Mandy replied, softening. "Thanks." She headed for the door."Got to go. Bye." Wait, who are you ..." Mandy heard Emma calling after her as the frontdoor closed behind her.Mandy ran down the street towards Sloane Square. She caught the tube toEmbankment Station, walking briskly up towards Trafalgar Square. The daywas warm but cloudy, and it began to sprinkle. She opened her folding pinkumbrella and held it aloft as she made her way through the throng (despitethe rain) of tourists and sightseers, past Nelson's Column (giving alittle wave to the nearest of the four enormous bronze lions at its base),straight towards the unmistakable portico of the National Gallery at thetop of the vast open square.Once inside, she headed down the entire length of the gallery to thefurthest room, as arranged.She saw James immediately, sitting side-on to her on one of the benches,looking straight ahead at some painting. It's funny to. When her cellphone rang, I 'unfortunately' thanked God for small favors, as she stopped talking about that event. As I pulled out the blackberry topping from the fridge, I turned and saw her turn nearly white as a ghost."No, no, don't tell me that! That can't be right ... Oh God, not again. God, not again," I heard her say into her phone. When I saw the tears start to form in her eyes, the cheesecake topping in my hands became the last thing on my mind. She collapsed down into a tight ball on the couch as she folded up her cell, and start to sob.By the time I covered the short distance to her and wrapped her small frame up in my arms, she was downright whaling. I just felt absolutely miserable for my earlier 'answered prayer'. I wasn't sure of what to say or ask, but after a minute or so of rocking her in my arms, her head pressed up against my chest. I eased off my bear-hug to allow her to get situated against me.With her head now resting on my shoulder, and her body glued tightly.
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