herself when she wasn’t wearing any concealer and foundation. She wished she was brave enough to accept it as part of her but after nineteen years of putting up with her disfigurement, even though she hid it as best as she could, she’d had enough.
Megan hated being defined by a stain on her face, and envied the people who made YouTube videos about how they coped with their birthmarks – all the staring and the laughing and the gawping. People didn’t realise how hurtful it was. How hard it was to be different.
For the past eighteen months, she had been saving every penny she could towards treatment. Their family GP, Doctor Sanders, had told her on numerous occasions that laser surgery wouldn’t make a difference, that her scarring was too deep and that it might worsen the condition; that it would raise the surface of the skin so that it would look like acne underneath her make-up. But Megan didn’t believe him – wouldn’t believe him. There were new things coming on the market all the time.
If she couldn’t have the surgery, she hoped one day to be able to wake up with someone who would roll over and cuddle up to her, not at all bothered by the discolouration of her skin. Seeing beyond it. Seeing past the birthmark and seeing only her.
In all honesty, she didn’t think this would happen, but that’s why the surgery was so important to her, despite her knowing it was probably not going to be successful. If she did have the surgery, Megan would be the same as everyone else. Until she was rid of the birthmark, she wasn’t free to live her life as she wanted.
So even if Sam did fancy her, she was off-limits to him. She was off-limits to anyone until she’d had her surgery. Then she would give her heart gladly – no matter how much she was drawn to Sam Harvey and his smile.
Donna shielded her eyes from the sun as she walked across to Owen’s car. She slid into the leather seat of his BMW and buckled up the seatbelt.
‘I’m not sure there is anywhere you can take me for lunch around here,’ she said, ‘unless you want to suffer from food poisoning.’
‘Don’t worry about that.’ He smiled. ‘I have the perfect place.’
A few minutes later, they pulled up in a nearby country park, Raven’s Mount. It was one of the nicer places in Stockleigh, but somewhere she hardly ever came to, despite it being practically on her doorstep. Twenty-five acres of fields and hills, a haven for dog walkers and hikers.
Donna turned to Owen with a puzzled expression.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you my favourite spot.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ Donna got out of the car and was pleasantly surprised to see Owen grab a large blue cooler box from out of the boot.
‘A picnic!’ she grinned with delight as he handed her a tartan blanket.
‘With the weather as it is, why not?’
He took her hand and they walked a few minutes to a spot under the shade of a large oak tree. It was far enough away from a group of children playing football, and the other couples looking for privacy, just like they were.
Donna shook out the blanket and sat down on it. Owen sat beside her and took out item after item from the box. Then he produced a bottle of wine.
‘I can’t have much because I’m driving and you can’t have much because you have to go back to work,’ he said. ‘But we can have a glass each and you can take the rest home with you.’
Donna grinned. It seemed like he’d thought of everything. She looked inside the box and spotted a tub of coleslaw.
‘You won’t find any,’ he said, removing the wrapping from a sandwich and popping it onto a paper plate.
‘Sorry?’
‘Cutlery. I didn’t bring any.’
‘Oh.’
‘I didn’t forget it. I just thought it wasn’t necessary. We can use our hands to feed each other.’
Donna couldn’t help but laugh. It all sounded a bit 50 Shades of Grey to her but still, what would she know? She couldn’t remember ever being taken out for a picnic.
She
Megan hated being defined by a stain on her face, and envied the people who made YouTube videos about how they coped with their birthmarks – all the staring and the laughing and the gawping. People didn’t realise how hurtful it was. How hard it was to be different.
For the past eighteen months, she had been saving every penny she could towards treatment. Their family GP, Doctor Sanders, had told her on numerous occasions that laser surgery wouldn’t make a difference, that her scarring was too deep and that it might worsen the condition; that it would raise the surface of the skin so that it would look like acne underneath her make-up. But Megan didn’t believe him – wouldn’t believe him. There were new things coming on the market all the time.
If she couldn’t have the surgery, she hoped one day to be able to wake up with someone who would roll over and cuddle up to her, not at all bothered by the discolouration of her skin. Seeing beyond it. Seeing past the birthmark and seeing only her.
In all honesty, she didn’t think this would happen, but that’s why the surgery was so important to her, despite her knowing it was probably not going to be successful. If she did have the surgery, Megan would be the same as everyone else. Until she was rid of the birthmark, she wasn’t free to live her life as she wanted.
So even if Sam did fancy her, she was off-limits to him. She was off-limits to anyone until she’d had her surgery. Then she would give her heart gladly – no matter how much she was drawn to Sam Harvey and his smile.
Donna shielded her eyes from the sun as she walked across to Owen’s car. She slid into the leather seat of his BMW and buckled up the seatbelt.
‘I’m not sure there is anywhere you can take me for lunch around here,’ she said, ‘unless you want to suffer from food poisoning.’
‘Don’t worry about that.’ He smiled. ‘I have the perfect place.’
A few minutes later, they pulled up in a nearby country park, Raven’s Mount. It was one of the nicer places in Stockleigh, but somewhere she hardly ever came to, despite it being practically on her doorstep. Twenty-five acres of fields and hills, a haven for dog walkers and hikers.
Donna turned to Owen with a puzzled expression.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you my favourite spot.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ Donna got out of the car and was pleasantly surprised to see Owen grab a large blue cooler box from out of the boot.
‘A picnic!’ she grinned with delight as he handed her a tartan blanket.
‘With the weather as it is, why not?’
He took her hand and they walked a few minutes to a spot under the shade of a large oak tree. It was far enough away from a group of children playing football, and the other couples looking for privacy, just like they were.
Donna shook out the blanket and sat down on it. Owen sat beside her and took out item after item from the box. Then he produced a bottle of wine.
‘I can’t have much because I’m driving and you can’t have much because you have to go back to work,’ he said. ‘But we can have a glass each and you can take the rest home with you.’
Donna grinned. It seemed like he’d thought of everything. She looked inside the box and spotted a tub of coleslaw.
‘You won’t find any,’ he said, removing the wrapping from a sandwich and popping it onto a paper plate.
‘Sorry?’
‘Cutlery. I didn’t bring any.’
‘Oh.’
‘I didn’t forget it. I just thought it wasn’t necessary. We can use our hands to feed each other.’
Donna couldn’t help but laugh. It all sounded a bit 50 Shades of Grey to her but still, what would she know? She couldn’t remember ever being taken out for a picnic.
She
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