Hopefully, you haven't given up on me with the delay. I actually wrote a lot of this a few weeks ago but haven't had the chance to upload it. Reviewer thank yous at the bottom :) Enjoy.


Chapter Two – Unexpected Findings

It was raining. Tears streamed down the windows and left glittering trails behind them. The air was chilly and Clemmy hugged herself to keep warm. Weren't lawyers supposed to be rich? Couldn't they afford simple things like heating?

She'd been waiting for one hour, and eleven minutes. One hour and eleven minutes she'd never get back. One hour and eleven minutes that she'd spent getting number and number from the cold and one hour and eleven minutes she'd spent wondering just how many more minutes it was going to take before she could walk out the door and never come back.

"Miss Phillips?"

Clementine looked up and found herself staring at a small chubby man, who wasn't overly attractive but had a very pleasant face. He looked far too pleasant to be a lawyer. She'd expected someone who sported a frown, had neat grey hair, wore glasses and was very tall and lanky.

"Yes." She said immediately feeling thrown off, "I'm here."

She cringed inwardly, mentally reminding herself that lawyers didn't usually take a roll call.

"I can see that." He said with a small smile. He had a shiny black brief case in his hand that seemed to be ripping at the seams with papers and forms. Clemmy stared at it half expecting her mother's will to jump out on its own accord.

Following her gaze he said, "Up here."

She looked up; he already had it in his hand.

One hour and eleven minutes of sitting in a boring lawyer's office had made her feel extremely agitated. Frustrated with her stupidity and really feeling like she was ready to smash her head against the safety glass windows; she sighed.

"Can we get on with it already?"

Mr. Wellen needed no further encouragement. He was pleasant enough but he was also strictly a business man. He was there to go through her mother's affairs only, not stand around awkwardly, trying to be insufferably polite.

Clementine liked the way he used words coldly. For one week and four days precisely all she'd been presented with were niceties. She was so sick of them. She was sick of people looking after her like she'd fall to pieces if they didn't supply her with enough tea and hold 'share your feelings' forums every five minutes.

She needed some time to think things through herself. That's how it had always been. Clemmy wasn't a quiet type but when it came to serious matters she preferred to deal with them on her own.

He was soft spoken Mr Wellen, but his voice was very clear. He was the type, Clemmy mused, that had taken debating and public speaking at school.

He never used adjectives. Clemmy liked that too. He didn't need to dress things up. He just said things, and if they sounded terrible, then so be it, they sounded terrible.

"So, everything is in order." He glanced at her pleasantly, but then frowned. He leaned down and took something out of his suffocating brief case.

"Except this."

Clemmy looked at the piece of paper in his hand her eyebrows furrowed. It looked simple enough. It wasn't the size of the constitution, and there wasn't an excessive amount of writing written on it.

She took it and looked it over. Her eyebrows inching higher and higher as her eyes traveled down the page.

"This is…" She started.

"Strange?" Mr. Wellen supplied for her. "Yes that's why I looked into it."

"But surely it's just an account set up by my mother." Clemmy said confused.

"Well that was what I thought too." He stood up and began to pace, finally resting on his book case moments later a frown etched into his pleasant face, "But what struck me as strange, is that it's not in your mother's name."

"Well whose name is it in?" Clemmy asked still not following.

"Yours." He replied.

"Well, we were always short of money." Clemmy said slowly, "She learnt to think ahead. She probably just set it up so that if something ever happened I'd have a security blanket."

"Well, yes, but there was no evidence of this account in your mother's statements or…" He stopped suddenly and said; "Did she ever say anything about it?"

"About setting up a mysterious bank account in my name?" Clemmy said now feeling a little irritated. "No she didn't."

"Well then…"

"Mr. Wellen, I really do appreciate all of this, but I'd really rather just go."

She wasn't even mildly interested in his investigation. She knew… Had known her mother well. Setting up accounts so that they always had money of some kind was just the sort of thing she'd do.

Mr. Wellen looked up as if he'd just come out of a trance. "Of course. If you have no other queries you can leave."

Without another word Clemmy left. She looked over the piece of paper one more time and finally her eyes rested on the balance.

"Fifteen thousand dollars???"


"My mother did not have fifteen thousand dollars."

"It's called interest Clemmy."

"It's called 'Interest doesn't accumulate that fast' John."

"How do you know she didn't set it up when she was sixteen or something?"

"Because it was in my name."

He had been very patient since the funeral. He'd put flowers in vases, collected school work and even fed the cat (He hated cats) but he wasn't going to sit through hours and hours of ranting and raving about a mysterious bank account.

"Clemmy." He said calmly. "You're a wonderful person, but you just don't know when to drop things."

"You think I'm supposed to drop the fact that fifteen thousand dollars has mysteriously landed in my lap?" Clemmy asked incredulously.

"YES!" John exclaimed dramatically. "For the love of God yes! Most people would love fifteen thousand dollars! Don't question it!"

"You're an idiot." Clemmy muttered coughing a little on her cigarette. Oh yes, she was going to forget all about it. Mysterious bank accounts with fifteen thousand dollars in them turned up everyday. In fact it was a normality of life.

"You should give those things up." John noted successfully changing the subject as he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Did your mother just die?" Clemmy snapped irritably.

"No." John said softly.

"Then keep your 'Lung cancer will kill you' ploy for someone else."

John turned away awkwardly. He wasn't very good at the comforting thing. Changing the subject? Sure, he could do that. Feed someone's cat? Well he could do that too, even if it was horrible. But comforting was hard.

"I'm sorry about your Mom Clemmy." He said finally, making sure not to cringe when a waft of smoke came his way.

She turned to him, almost thoughtfully and replied. "I know you are." She dropped the cigarette on the ground and stood on it. "But you don't get it."


She tossed and turned that night. She could hear her Aunt snoring from the next room, a tap dripping from the bathroom and the idea of fifteen thousand dollars screaming at her incessantly.

It was an idea that struck her suddenly. Immediately after she wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. She sat up so fast that she almost hit her head on the low hanging lamp.

She jumped out of bed and raced into her mother's room. She hadn't been in there for a week. She'd wanted to preserve the memory of her mother for as long as she could.

But now she ripped open the wardrobe and pulled out boxes, not caring if her Aunt heard – she wasn't going to cover the truth.

She went through everything. Photos, books, quotes, presents, cards… But there wasn't a trace of him anywhere. No name, no photo, no number.

She flicked the last pile of photos across the room defeated. Slumping onto the ground she felt a tear slide down her cheek. She hadn't cried since her mother had died. The shock of it all, the funeral, the will… It had overwhelmed her. But failing to find something she'd wanted to find since birth was the last straw.

She cried all night. Sobbing uncontrollably. Nobody seemed to be listening. Not even her Aunt who was in the next room. She shook with grief and anger and frustration and injustice.

Because she knew where that bank account had come from. And where the fifteen thousand dollars had come from.

But she had no way of proving it.

She looked up from her pathetic position on the floor and saw something she hadn't noticed before. It was a small book on the top of the wardrobe. Wiping away her tears with impatience she stood up…


speckled girl - Thanks, here's more! (Even if it has been a long time...) Yep there's still an island. I'm going to sound like a TV channel here or something but stay tuned!

SassyLostie - Mmm, yep thought about the age thing. Sawyer is going to be older. But I don't know about the whole 'Clemmy' thing yet. She probably wouldn't like being called Clemmy too much in her teens but at this stage I'll probably stick with it. I love long reviews! Thanks so much! (And if there are any other picky things tell me!)

backdrifter - I'm glad I've drawn you in! I won't give away much, except that at this point, Sawyer is still on the island. For the rest you'll just have to keep reading! Sorry:)

bonboni - Yep, hope you like this installment! Glad I got the emotion across, thanks!

Malice - Thanks! Just added one :)

Alexis K - Yeah that's kind of why I wrote it. I thought 'What the hell man? There's no stories about Clementine yet?' So then I had to write one. Thank you so much for your review!

Lady Tourniquet - Yes you were, and for this, I applaud you :)

Like-The-Walls-Of-Jericho - Well I've updated (Not exactly soon but...) and I love you forever for your awesome comments! Hope you like this one.

Ivy3 - Glad you;re curious. Hope this answers some questions :)

Please review!!! (Also tell me if I missed any pesky spelling/punctuation problems) :)