Poppy Stockwell had had many surprises and shocks in her life. This time, however, it was different: wanting the meeting, yet dreading it, her heart pounding as her stomach knotted with fear. Filled with anticipation, she steered her sports car down the motorway towards her fate. If only she was not too late, things could at last change, she encouraged herself. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she tried to concentrate on the road ahead instead of her tremulous thoughts. Flicking her blonde locks behind her ears, her vision was blurred through her tears. Arriving at the hospital, she swung into the car park, swiftly taking the last space. She turned to look at Richard who, bless him, had not said a word about her speed. 'Richard, do I look presentable?' He could only imagine what she felt. The thought made him feel sick. 'Poppy, I'm with you, darling. It will be all right, I am sure. You look beautiful, you always do.' He squeezed her arm - just to assure her that this time she did...

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