A Tissue On A Chair

Before we start this is a positive post

My solicitor is a very Welsh, bright, compassionate woman.
She took her time with our meeting and pursed her lips in empathy when I went white as she outlined the costs of her representation.
I burst into tears when she asked me about what was eventually going to happen to the dogs, we had already stood up and was in the process of saying our goodbyes .
And then I sort of bolted for the door.
The solicitor works in an impressive set of offices built within the confines of an old Chapel. The Chapel is a stones thrown from the only local cathedral and blotchy faced I took myself up High Street across a small green and into the cathedral proper where I found a quiet dark spot and sat down on a red chair to gather my thoughts.
Places of worship are calm, cool silent places. If I had been in Trelawnyd and had felt the same, I would have taken myself off to St Michaels
I hadn't been sat there that long, perhaps only a few minutes when I sensed a movement to my left. A faceless woman stopped briefly and placed a paper napkin  on the seat next to me
" There's tea and coffee to the right of the door" she half whispered before moving on

And I blew my nose, and felt a bit better.