Viette #1: A girl heading home

Viette took one last look out her window as the noisy airplane engines coughed to life. They hadn't been in Greece for very long -- only about eight months -- but she was certainly going to miss it. Out of all the homes she'd had in the past few years, their cliff-side dwelling had had the best view of any she'd seen so far. If Viette's memory served her correctly, her mother's old manor house in Brighton was surrounded by a gloomy landscape which didn't even compare to the exciting, stormy Aegean Sea.

Great. Another item to add to her list of things to look forward to back in England.

Viette didn't hate going "home" to England. She'd been lucky enough to not have to return for a visit in three whole years, so she shouldn't be complaining now, honestly. And anyway, her father couldn't help that his sister had died so suddenly, and the funeral was so soon. But Viette enjoyed her life of travel, of visiting thrilling new locales, and meeting new characters in foreign lands. Returning to England meant monotony and bored-to-tears conversation with the same old people she'd been forced to share company with since she was born. What a tiresome thought -- and she wasn't even there yet!

Viette's father, Henry Dawes, stumbled aboard the tiny plane. He'd been distracted and gloomy ever since recieving word about his sister's mysterious death. Henry had made the arrangements for them to fly out in time for the funeral, but the packing had been left up to Viette. Luckily, they were used to traveling light, and constant movement from one country to another -- wherever Henry's line of work brought him -- prepared Viette for knowing just how to pack their belongings to make sure the whole operation wasn't a confusing mess when they arrived at their destination. Normally, they didn't have to leave in such a rush, but these were special circumstances.

As Henry took his seat beside his daughter, she reached over and patted his hand. She did feel very sorry for him, and was trying to understand how lost he must be feeling with the news that his younger sister had died so suddenly. Viette knew she would miss her Aunt Carlotta very much, but the past few days in Greece had been such a blur that she hadn't paused long enough to feel grief. That would probably all hit, though, as soon as they landed in dismal, melancholy England, with its low-hanging clouds and oppressing hills, all conducive to fostering anguish.

Viette leaned back in her seat as the airplane engines choked again, signaling takeoff time. Hopefully they could return to Greece -- or somewhere similarly exotic -- as soon as all this funeral business was over. Hopefully.