The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

lunch; but none of this was even remotely funny. Bravely, he stepped inside, quickly followed by the two ambulance men. Meli couldn’t help but think that they should all count themselves lucky that the door had stayed propped open, allowing some of the stagnant air to seep out. Through the mist of condensation collecting over the windscreen, Meli saw the curtains in the living room pulled back and then the windows were thrown wide. A black raven took flight, instantly breaking into fragments as the swarm of flies swept to freedom and quickly dispersed. She wondered how many years it had been since the room had seen daylight.
    PC Holster came out a few minutes later. Opening the door he leaned in, his hair glistening with a light coating of rain, his complexion a little green. “She is dead,” he broke the news to her. “For a few days by the looks of it.”
    Meli listened, but didn’t listen. It was like his lips were moving, but the words were evaporating in the air.
    The next thing Meli remembered, she was sitting in her own kitchen. She had a mug of tea in one hand, and Cal was holding the other, kneading it rather clumsily like it was a lump of dough. PC Holster was there. There was no sign of the children.
    “How are you feeling now?” Cal’s expression was one of intense concern, his full fleshy cheeks tinged a shade of lobster pink as he studied her.
    “Okay,” she replied. Why were they staring at her so oddly? “Why are you staring at me so oddly?” She blinked, suddenly realising that her eyes felt gritty and sore.
    “Do you remember what happened?”
    The mug of tea was burning her fingers, so she put it on the table as she thought about it for a moment, then it all came flooding back. Her fright in the barn, Elsa’s body, being told that Elsa was dead, her hysterical tears. She nodded, feeling embarrassed. “What happened to Elsa?” She asked PC Holster, lifting a hand to peel strands of hair from where they clung to her face. They were still slightly damp.
    “We won’t know until after the post mortem, but it looks like an accident. It would appear Elsa fell and hit her head.”
    “Oh,” was all Meli could comment as Cal picked up her drink and placing it in her hand, guided it towards her lips. Obediently she took a sip, grimacing as the steaming whisky vapours stung her eyes before burning her throat. It was strangely soothing. Closing her eyes, she finished the tonic. Placing the empty mug on the table, she caught sight of her jeans, and the dark stains on the knees. Blood? Puzzled she studied the brown patches. How had she got them? She must have got them in Elsa’s home. Horrified, in case any of the blood had soaked through and contaminated her skin, she excused herself and dashed away to get changed. Tearing off all her clothing, she took a shower. Standing beneath the hot water she scrubbed at her body until the skin was blotchy and red, desperate to wash away every tiny trace of the farmhouse and Elsa from her skin.

Chapter 22

    When Meli came downstairs again, the policeman had gone. Everyone was home now, all perched around the table, backs hunched like miserable Reading supporters in the rain. Meli could tell that something had happened; something else she meant.
    “How are you feeling?” Cal was instantly on his feet, and taking her by the arm escorted her to her chair at the table like an old crone. She could have objected, but his touch was so comforting.
    “I’m fine,” she told everyone with a wan smile. “What’s wrong? Has something else happened?”
    Her eyes followed Cal as he returned to his seat. This is probably the first time in months that we’ve all sat at the table together she thought, and there isn’t even a sandwich between us.
    “Cassie has something to tell you.” The crows feet around Cal’s eyes etched themselves into albatross’ feet.
    Meli flicked her gaze to her daughter, who was sitting pale faced, her fingers playing with a Cornflake that must have been left on the table from breakfast.
    “Do you want me to tell mum?” Cal offered softly when she hesitated.
    Lifting her face from the table, Cassie shook her head. There was a tiny cracking sound as she snapped the cornflake between her fingers. “Dean’s surname is Mountford.”
    Meli cocked her head slightly, puzzled. Should that mean something to her? There was something familiar about it.
    “He’s Elsa’s son,” Cass supplied.
    Meli was ejected from her seat as though a