• After a hectic morning, I sat in the black limosine. Deathly silence enveloped myself and my family. I stared throught the windscreen, at the hearse crawling along in front of us. Through the back window of the car, I could see the coffin carrying my grandmother. I shivered. The snotty cow was getting a proper send off - bouquets of flowers worth £300, a velvet lined coffin, a wake at a five star hotel - the lot. Even in death, she was still more important than us.

    My mother had not said a word in the limo to the church. Even now, at the doors, with relatives crowding her, offering tissues and hugs, she remained quiet. We took the front pew as Gran was carried into the church to the sound of a heavenly choir. The vicar opened his mouth and began to speak. I began to think we'd wandered into the wrong funeral. He wasn't talking about my grandmother. He was talking about a sweet, kind lady who cared about her family. None of that was like my gran. None of it at all.

    The tears, the vicar's misleaded words, the glossy coffin taking centre stage. It was all. Too. Much. I had to get out of there, or I'd suffocate. "I'm gonna get some fresh air," I whispered to Mum. She nodded, but she hadn't really heard me. She was too busy sobbing. I got up and slid out of the church.

    My long black skirts rustled along the ground as I walked home in the breezy autumn sunshine. As I fumbled for my keys when I reached the front door, I heard an unmistakable voice. "Hey sweetheart," it said. I whirled round. Could Jake really be saying that to me? No. He wasn't. He was talking to a beautiful red-haired girl walking towards him. He slid his arm round her waist and they walked away. As I let myself in, my eyes burned with tears for the first time that day. I hurried upstairs, changed out of my dress and into my jeans, then headed to the kitchen. Trying to gather my thoughts, I put some Pop Tarts in the toaster.

    Just then, the doorbell rang. "Now what?" I grumbled, going to open it. A man stood there. He was tall, nervous-looking, and dark haired. I noticed his eyes were strikingly like my own.
    "Are you Lucilla Leeman?" he asked.
    "Um, yes, why?" I replied.
    "Well, I'm Adrian. Adrian Maynard. Your father."
    Oh God, just when things couldn't get any worse....

    PART 6 COMING SOON! (Hopefully...)