The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

distraction might settle her. “Come on then. I’ll treat us to lunch in the pub.” She was acting extravagantly, especially as they had only dined there yesterday, but she felt the need to get away for a while. Whooping loudly, the boys rushed off to get ready. Guiltily, Meli glanced at the wooden face, gazing up at the ceiling from the work bench, just begging to be worked on. Its eyes were dark and blank. She stepped away with a shiver. I really do need a break, she told herself.
    Ordering their food and drinks they settled at a bench outside the pub to wait. The food was always delicious, and the lunch menu was very reasonable. Meli had only ordered a crab sandwich for herself, while the boys had ham, egg and chips. Meli had been tempted to have the same, but knew if she ate too much it would make her drowsy all afternoon, and there was no time for such luxuries. By the time they had finished it was getting on for three. A brisk walk home with a comfortably full stomach, and Meli was feeling refreshed and ready to get stuck in.
    Turning onto the drive Meli’s fingers clenched. The door was open. The boys didn’t seem to notice as they were dawdling some way behind her, arguing about something. Had Cass come home early? She hurried in ahead of them, her eyes flicking everywhere. Downstairs was empty. No sign of Cass nor Quassi when she called.
    “Why don’t you go and get a drink?” she called down to the boys from the top of the stairs. Checking the first room, she found it empty. Reaching Cassie’s door Meli listened. Beyond the wood she could hear something. Tiny thuds against the panels. She glanced down the passageway. The boys were on their way up. She opened the door. Instantly she was dive bombed by a dozen obese flies. Stepping sharply backwards, she yanked the door closed.
    “Yuck,” cried David, as he ducked to avoid the frantic buzz of the released beasts.
    “Just go to your own room, and close the door,” she told them. “And tidy up in there, it’s a disgrace,” she tossed the comment behind them. Fly spray or the newspaper and open window treatment? The memory of the last mass extermination and the resulting clean-up was still vivid in her mind. Stepping inside again she hurried over to the windows. Opening them all wide she happened to notice movement below. Surely not Elsa again? But when she looked to double check, there was nothing there.
    Leaving the flies for a moment, hoping that the infestation would make a bolt for freedom before she returned with a newspaper, lured away by the aroma of the fresh cow pats if nothing else, she moved on to the boys room. Opening the door, she was struck by that musky odour again. It wasn’t quite the smell of old socks soaked in vinegar, but not far off it. “What is that stink?” she demanded. She noticed that George at least had made an effort to tidy up; he’d managed to pick up his pillow so he could stuff it under his head and lie back in comfort to read a magazine. Resisting the inclination to stamp her feet and rage at them, she decided that if they wanted to live in a pigsty, then that was down to them, but she wouldn’t lay a finger on their room. She’d see how long they held out.
    Without glancing away from the page he was reading, George gave a shrug. “Can’t smell anything.”
    “Well open the window for a while, and let in some fresh air.” Leaving them to it she finished her search. Again she turned up nothing. But where were the flies coming from? Was there some secret tunnel that linked the farmhouse to their lodge? She shuddered at the thought. What else might come creeping in?

    “Hi,” came the cheerful greeting from Cassie as she sauntered in at nine o’clock. “How was everyones day?”
    Hooking his arm over the back of the sofa, Cal swung round and blinked at his daughter for a moment, as if trying to recognise that this was the same stroppy monster who he’d seen last night.
    “You look like the cat who got the cream,” Meli smiled. “What’s made you so happy?” Cassie’s make-up was still intact, her hair undamaged by sea water, and her skin had a soft sun-kissed tinge. She gave herself ten out of ten for her prediction that morning.
    “Oh, nothing much. Just had a rather nice day,” she sighed, throwing herself down onto a chair and sinking back into it. Her bright smile could have lit up Wembley stadium at 1 a.m. on a winters morning.
    “I think she’s got a fella,” Meli commented,