Ellie raised her hand in farewell, having said all that was needed, and turned back to the Manor with her arms wrapped tightly around her body, not so much from rain and cold as from a (stupid, pointless) desire to be held. Blessed angels, she thought, trying futilely to transform her sorrow into the bitter anger that was so much easier to bear, always leaving just when you've got used to having them around.

Once inside, she shook the water out of her long hair and watched through the rain-blurred glass of the door as the angel vanished into the downpour, his departure punctuated by a final glimpse of unexpectedly cheerful red tartan scarf.