The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

upwards as if launched from a catapult. “Oh, but everyone knows that,” she replied, swishing one plump hand dismissively through the air as though swatting a passing fly.
    Grinding her teeth together, Meli paid for her paper, while counting to ten. Everyone knew, apart from her and her family. “Do you know what happened to her husband and son?”
    “Why?”
    Meli flicked her eyes at the Post Mistress in amazement. She’d never heard Mrs. Barber question a question before. Skirt it, ignore it even, but never question it.
    “Just interested,” Meli replied after a slight pause, trying to give a neutral smile, playing cagey, trying not to show that her future well being, and that of her family, was depended on Mrs. Barber giving her an answer. The question was innocent enough.
    The two women exchanged looks for a moment.
    “They moved away, live somewhere in Exmouth now.”
    Meli could have leaped over the counter and kissed Mrs. Barber on her trout lips. So, they hadn’t moved far. All of this was so interesting. Quitting while ahead, Meli decided not to pump Mrs. Barber any further today, and was soon striding home, her legs so used to the mountainous incline now that they carried her with ease.
    Quassi began to bark and lurch at his collar as soon as they turned off the lane. The cause was soon evident. Tabby was crouched on the roof of the milk float, watching them approached with cold, unblinking, amber eyes. In a leisurely manner she rose to her feet and then dropped off the far side, out of sight. Meli found her eyes scanning ahead of them, checking for signs of Elsa. She couldn’t find any, but there were plenty of places she could have concealed herself. As they passed the milk float, Quassi stood on his hind legs, trying to see where Tabby had gone, his nostrils flared as they sampled the air for clues.
    Letting them both in, Meli listened at the bottom of the stairs for any sounds from the boys. All was quiet. Entering the kitchen she was left in no doubt that they had been up, as the remains of their breakfasts were scattered everywhere. Why did they have to use every surface? Why couldn’t they restrict themselves to the table? Or at least to one worktop? Glancing into the sink, she could have spat blood. Sugar Puffs, milk and what looked like half a bowl of sugar, tainted brown by an old tea bag, were idling on the bottom of the stainless steel sink. Trotting up the stairs, she called their names. There was no reply, and when she opened their door the room was empty, quilts and pillows hanging precariously from the beds, pyjamas and what she took to be dirty clothing, although of course, they could all be clean, but the boys just hadn’t bothered to hang them up, scattered all over the floor.
    If anyone enquired whether or not she had a family she would say, yes she did, she had a husband, a daughter, and twin sons. She knew she did, as she constantly cleaned up after them. Bile rose up into her throat. Everyone just came and went as they pleased, apparently under the impression that a little elf came in every day to clean and tidy. Well, if they weren’t careful, this little elf would go on strike. Firmly closing the door on the bomb site, and that still unidentified smell that had taken up residence, she resolved that the family, particularly the boys, would have to stop taking her for granted.
    It was still a mystery what the boys were doing with themselves each day. It wasn’t so long ago that she was bemoaning the fact that the boys were constantly disturbing her, now she hardly saw them. Deciding that they had probably gone to see Tim, she relented enough to tidy the kitchen, and then withdrew to her studio. Deep in concentration, the tip of her tongue protruding from her taut lips, she didn’t hear any sound of footsteps. It was the sensation of hairs standing up in a ridge along her spine that made her head snap round. Elsa’s distorted face was flattened against the pane. Despite herself, Meli squealed with horror.
    Launching herself from her stool, she hurried across to the door. When she peered out, Elsa was already out the gate. What was she doing? Gaping at her like she was a goldfish in a bowl. The image of those dark, blank eyes, haunted Meli for the rest of the day. The only diversion was when the boys came back.
    “What’s for lunch?” they demanded to know.
    Meli glanced at the clock. It was one fifteen. Her stomach rumbled. Lunch sounded a good idea. A small