The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

the narrow opening. Meli seriously thought that she might need a crowbar to force them all through.
    “If you’d like to move forward a bit, I can come through and give you the grand tour,” she encouraged them from the rear. When she placed her hand on Mrs. Rushmore’s razor sharp spine she leaped forward as if Meli had struck her on the backside with a cattle prod. Squeezing through the gap left by Mrs. Rushmore, Meli slipped inside. Turning to face her guests she beamed at them.
    “Well, this is where it all happens.” She swept her hand around her, indicating the light and airy room. There wasn’t even so much as a spider web hanging from the ceiling, let alone a bat. That morning, Meli had set aside some time to prepare. Now the photos of masks on the walls had been dusted, the windows polished, a selection of her favourite photos pinned to a large cork board and her masks, all at various stages of development, were gazing at them from where they were propped on a bench. On a table in the corner, was a tray with scones, a pot of jam and some local clotted cream which were set out beside the kettle and Meli’s best china, or rather, Amy’s best china, which hadn’t seen the light of day since being packed away when they moved here.
    It was Mrs. Barber who stepped forward first, her eyes closing on a 12 x 14 sized print of a mask. It was a photo of a cast of Cassie’s face when she was about six. “Is this your daughter?”
    Meli moved to her side. “Yes, do you like it?” Somehow it was important that she did, that they all did. This was her opportunity to make her mark on the village. If these three ambassadors approved she knew she had made it. If they didn’t? Well, she might as well pack up and leave today.
    “It is rather good.” Lowering her tall, top heavy frame until her face was level with the picture, she squinted intensely at it. “And those teeth?”
    In Meli’s opinion, Mrs. Barber was still showing an unhealthy interest in teeth, as her eyes narrowed on her daughters gum line and the two tiny teeth impregnated there, studying them with microscopic intensity. Meli’s tongue went gummy for a second. Drat. Despite her assurance to Mrs. Barber the other day, that she made all the teeth, she had forgotten this one exception. The only one in the whole place where she had used human teeth. These were Cassie’s baby teeth. Meli felt the delicate balance of acceptance weighing heavily at one end. “I made them,” she said boldly, managing to peel her tongue from the sticky base of her mouth. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Meli felt as if Mrs. Barber’s gaze was sucking every thought out of her brain as she searched out the tiny, in fact miniscule, white lie. When Mrs. Barber released Meli, Meli had to clasp the edge of the bench to hold herself upright. If she had discovered the lie, Mrs. Barber kept it hidden.
    “Come and have a look,” Mrs. Barber ordered her two friends, waving them forward. They were still standing like two frightened chickens, arms clutching each other, unable to even look around them. As one, they shuffled forward.
    “The teeth are man-made. Aren’t they realistic?” Meli didn’t miss the slightly sarcastic edge to her tone.
    “Oh, but that it so sweet,” Mrs. Rushmore twittered nasally, her handbag/suitcase almost tripping up Mrs. Swindon as she tried to muzzle between her friends. Cass’ good deed for the day was to break the ice. One look at her angelic face was enough to dispel any images of cauldrons or black magic. With the three women visibly at ease, Meli slowly worked them around the room, giving them a running commentary, ending up by the sink, where a variety of pots, powders, herbs and lichens resided.
    “This is where I make up my own dyes, in much the same way as they would have been made originally,” she explained, “I try to make everything as authentic as possible.”
    Leaving the three women to chat among themselves for a moment, Meli poured the tea and then invited them to join her. The atmosphere had certainly warmed a couple of degrees as the women had lost their chill exteriors. Meli smiled to herself as her guests helped themselves to scones and cream. It was very cosy and relaxed.
    Meli found her gaze settling on Mrs. Rushmore, who was acting a little strangely. She had broken her scone into tiny pieces, and then covertly, she began dropping them under the table cloth onto her recently swept floor. The woman must be