If Mabel had a choice in the matter, then she would not reside in Whitby at all. But fate played terrible tricks on people and here she was stuck with a weird grandfather and his goats. But at least she was still able to sing. It had taken her a couple of weeks to pull together the little show, but being up on the stage again was well worth it. As was the praise that came with it.

Once the people started to leave, Mabel had tried to sneak out unnoticed, not to much lack. "I'm sorry Monsieur, no interviews" she replied with a heavy French accent, mistaking him for a reporter of some kind.