Katie padded around the headstones, careful not to disturb any of the flowers and gifts left behind for loved ones. Her fingers trailed over the cool stones as she headed for the ancient oak at the center of the cemetery, feet kicking up fallen leaves as she followed a winding, random path. The air was crisp and biting with an early threat of winter, the gentle breeze dancing through blond hair as she walked.

A small smile ghosted over her lips as she reached the stone she sought. Her Papa had been there recently, and often, if the the red roses, all in varying states of freshness, were anything to go by.

Not caring much that the thick carpet of grass was still a bit damp from the morning dews, Katie sank to the ground. "Hi Mummy," she whispered softly as a gloved hand reached out to trace the letters engraved in the stone - Claire Kathryn Bell. "I missed you."

She'd never known what it was like to have a mum. She'd had her Papa and Grams, though it was always hard to visit her as the gypsy caravan was constantly moving, changing, never still. Katie had never wanted for anything as her Papa had made sure she felt loved, wanted, her Grams a gentle, yet drifting influence in her life. Grams couldn't be still, couldn't be in one place for too long, always being pulled by something larger than herself, something in her blood that called her to wander. Katie had never faulted her for it, understood it better than not. She felt it also, and she flew to move, to quell it. She feared it too. She wanted stable, love, roots, home.

Breathing out a puff of air, the little white cloud visible in the cold, Katie reached into her pocket. "I've brought you some pretties." She pulled out a heart pendant, red Venetian glass on a leather thong, and held it up, watching it turn from blood, to orange and back in the weak morning sunshine. "This one's from Italy, Mummy. I think you would have liked it there. Shiny things everywhere." A wry smile tugging at her lips, she layed the necklace down with the odd collection of beads and such that still remained from her last visit months ago. "Papa's always said that we had that in common, shiny things."

Reaching back into her pocket, Katie pulled out two more little trinkets. A chill breeze blew across the open grounds and she shivered, reaching up to pull her fuzzy knit hat further down, the end of her nose pink in the cold. "This one's from a new friend, or at least I hope so. I liked him," she said softly after awhile as she stuck a little pink drink umbrella into the grass.

"And this one..." Her words trickled away as she looked at the silver Whirlagig sitting in her gloved palm. "This one's from an old friend. Mummy, a friend who makes me confused and tingly and safe and all kinds of things. A friend I'm not supposed to feel things about," she finished in a whisper. She twirled the trinket in her palm, watching as the light reflected in all directions. It was moments like these that she wished desperately that things had been different. Just moments in time when a mum would have hugged her, talked with her, made everything seem all right somehow.

A little sigh escaped her lips as she set the Whirlagig by to the pink umbrella in the grass next to the stone. The little twirlers oddly fit together, side by side, and it pulled the beginnings of grin out of her. Somehow she knew that her mum liked them too.

Katie'd always felt like a piece of her was missing, but it was in moments like these, moments when she knew for certain that her mum was there with her, that she felt filled up, whole. She let the smile that had begun to tug at her lips out, brilliant with the morning sunshine. Kissing her gloved fingers, she pressed them against the name engraved on the stone. "I love you too, Mummy."