Sheila Evans checked her watch as she hurried along Rodderswych Road. 8:05am. The traffic was a lot busier than usual, she noticed, but at least the road was open to traffic again. All of the roads were. She reached the familiar sight of the bus stop, and opened the gate to the garden just behind it. She checked her watch again, this time showing 8:06.

She stepped up onto the step and rang the doorbell, hearing the musical notes which echoed just inside, including the last one which was both considerably off key and a lot shorter than the rest. She chuckled to herself as she pressed the button again, and waited.

Through the frosted glass she could see someone inside walk slowly up to the door, and she heard them either remove or place the chain before opening the door. As the door opened just a little before catching on the chain, she knew which way it had gone.

“Sheila, love, what’s wrong?” Mabel peered through the tiny space between the door and frame. She closed the door again, removed the chain, and then reopened it fully. “Come in, love. I’m just makin’ us all a cuppa.”

Sheila followed Mabel into the hallway, removing her coat as she did. “Are you alright, May?” she asked, with a very concerned tone.

“Ooh, yes, love.” Mabel said cheerily. “Just the knee playin’ up again!”

“I tried phoning you last night, May. Got no answer. I thought I’d come around early this morning to check up on you all.” Sheila followed Mabel into the living room. George was fast asleep in his chair, as usual. Sheila sat on the sofa.

“I’ll just be a tick, love.” Mabel said, pointing to the kitchen.

George opened his eyes upon hearing Sheila’s voice, and sat himself properly in his chair. “Morning, Sheila. I was just finishing off last night’s sleep there. We’re all shattered after yesterday.”

“I can imagine, George.” Sheila smiled, noticing Mabel’s ornaments on the shelves and mantel over the fire. “Ooh, good to see you got them fixed.” She nodded.

“Fixed love?” Mabel returned to the living room carrying a tray with the teapot, milk jug and four cups and saucers.

“Yes. Your ornaments. Some of them were quite badly cracked yesterday.” Sheila noticed a confused glance between Mabel and George. She pointed to the cups on the tray. “So Dawnstar’s still here then?” Another glance.

“Dawn Star, love?” Mabel queried, handing her sister a cup of hot tea.

“You know, the girl with the wings from yesterday?” Sheila started to feel concerned.

“Girl with wings? Sheila, ‘ave you ‘ad another of your dreams again?” Mabel chuckled, handing another cup to George. She looked back at Sheila and nodded towards her cup. “Drink up love, you’ll be wide awake on that in no time!”

“No. Yesterday, Mabel. You had a visitor with wings. She was lay on this sofa.” With her left hand, Sheila padded the centre cushion. “She woke up, and flapped ‘er wings, sending all your ornaments flying. She broke some of them, but we caught a few. She fell through George’s shed the night before. I didn’t dream any of that. I saw the hole in the roof!”

“It’s a bit far fetched that, love,” Mabel smiled. “A winged woman in Yorkshire? In our shed?”

“It was on the news!” Sheila started to feel very flustered. Perhaps she had dreamt it. “Our Ryan came here to see you. About it. About her. I phoned him.”

“He did come yesterday, She, and took us to the seaside. He picked us up about ten o’clock.”

“But the roads were closed, Mabel. He couldn’t have done. That was on the news too!”

“Well, we didn’t see anything, love.” Mabel smiled. “We ‘ad a lovely day.”

Sheila heard footsteps clamber down the stairs.

“So she is here! You’re just teasing me!” Sheila let out a short sigh of relief, but stopped when she saw the glance again.

Ryan walked into the living room, pulling on a clean white shirt. “Hi Auntie She!” he said cheerily, not at all like Ryan first thing in the morning.

“Ryan, where’s Dawnstar?” Sheila asked.

“Who?” Ryan looked at Mabel and George who both shrugged.

“Oh, this is ridiculous! Ryan come with me!” Sheila put her cup onto the saucer on the table at the side of the sofa, and walked out of the living room, grabbing Ryan’s sleeve as she did so. They walked into the kitchen where she pointed out of the conservatory towards George’s shed.

She stopped, and stood open mouthed.

A brand new shed now stood in the place of the battered old one.

George and Mabel followed into the kitchen. “Isn’t that a beauty?” George said, very proud. Both he and Mabel wore huge smiles on their faces, “Our Ryan surprised us with this yesterday. He took us off to the seaside, and had this delivered while we were out. He’s got us new tools and everything.”

“I don’t understand…” Sheila bit her bottom lip. “You didn’t say you were going to the seaside, May. You normally do when you go out for the day.”

“Didn’t I, love?” Mabel looked up to the conservatory ceiling in thought. “Ooh, sorry. I must’ve forgotten. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

“Which beach did you go?” Sheila asked. All three looked at each other with blank expressions on their faces.

“I don’t know the name,” Ryan finally said. “It was over on the far north coast. Rocky cliffs surrounded the bay. The tide was out when we got there, so we had a picnic on the sands.”

“Them butties were lovely!” Mabel said, with a quick swallow. “The whole day was just lovely. The weather was gorgeous; nice breeze. We spent a good few hours there. The only thing that let it down was the gnats before we left. All three of us were bit in the same place.” She pointed to her temple.


This is the sixteenth instalment of my fan fiction tale based on the DC Comics character Dawnstar.

The first part can be found here.
The second part is here.
The third part here.
Part four is here.
Part five is here.
Part six is here.
The seventh part is here.
Part eight is here.
Part nine is here.
Part ten is here.
Part eleven is here.
Part twelve is here.
Part thirteen is here.
Part fourteen is here.
Part fifteen is here.

Dawnstar was created by Paul Levitz and Mike Grell, with Starhaven being a planet from the DC Universe. All other characters are of my own creation.

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