The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

flopped open like a kipper. “Bill and Marigold are married. Everyone knows that.”
    Cal had to catch Meli, who flew to her feet in shock, and nearly fell over as her feet were still crossed.
    “But. But. That can’t be. They can’t be,” she stuttered.
    “They are,” came several voices from nearby. Was everyone listening to their conversation?
    Meli swept her glass from the table and tipped the remains of her drink down her throat without letting it touch the sides. If it had, she would have realised that it was in fact Tim’s brandy. She missed his pained look. This desperate act really did not help one iota. All it did was paralyse any remaining brain cells that had been capable of functioning, so she was incapable of coherent thought. It was soon after this that Cal decided they should go home. Ken and Dean stayed the night, sleeping in the boys room, while the boys slept on the pull out bed in the living room.
    Meli’s world began to spin the second her head fell back against the pillow. She felt like one of the flies she’d seen dying on Elsa’s window sill, flapping around on its back, legs flailing in the air; only she was spinning at a thousand times their speed, and she was being sucked backwards into a gaping black vortex at the same time. Somehow she managed not to throw up. Eventually she zonked out.
    At two twenty-two precisely, her mind switched itself back on. From a drunken stupor, she was suddenly wide awake and sober. Lying there, with her eyes open she stared at the dark ceiling, while her mind replayed the events of yesterday. Slipping out of bed, she trotted downstairs, found a pen and note pad and began to make notes.

    The post mortem confirmed that the cause of death was indeed due to a head injury. This seemed to confirm the theory that Elsa had had a fall, and fatally struck herself on the head, dispelling Meli’s presumption that she had a thick skull. Death would have been instant; Elsa wouldn’t have known anything about it. This was of great comfort to Meli, who was still suffering pangs of guilt over her pathetic handling of the situation when she found the body, which was most vexing, as she knew that Elsa would have found this highly amusing. Even in death, Elsa still had some power over her. Several times, Meli found herself wandering down to the farmhouse, when she knew no one would be there. She would sit on a wall, often joined by Tabby, and together they would stare at the building, both lost in their own thoughts.
    The farmhouse had become the epicentre of a hive of activity as Ken had it totally gutted of what could only be regarded as garbage and junk, not even really fit for the scrap yard. Everything went, even the paint off the walls and ceilings, there wasn’t anything worth saving. Skip after skip came and went. Fumigators came and went. As the curtains were torn down, the farmhouse regained its sight, a bit like having cataracts removed after years of enforced blindness. Ken hadn’t dilly-dallied elsewhere either. Within two days of Else’s death he had had the dumped wrecks removed from outside their property, and in less than a week the farmer with the cows was offered, and had accepted, an alternative field, one that was nowhere near the lodge, much to their relief. Life was on the up.
    “It’s the end of an era,” she had commented to Tabby more than once, who, judging by the peculiar squint of her eyes when she’d looked up at her, had either been in total agreement, or had something irritating the inside of her eyelid. Life here just wouldn’t be the same any more. Meli couldn’t understand the way she felt. In a sense she was grieving, which was nonsensical, because any normal person would have been elated that it was over. Perhaps it was because there was still so much that was unresolved, and would remain that way. With Elsa gone, and Quassi restricted to the lodge, there wouldn’t be any more mysteries, but also, no answers. Like, who killed SS? What about the flies? Who was Finn? The mind was a curiously complex Petri-dish, where all kinds of contagions festered.
    Meli and Cal attended the funeral, in fact everyone in the village who was capable of walking or crawling attended, gathering together to pay their last respects. Observing all the dry eyes, Meli was intrigued by their motives. She didn’t believe for one moment that anyone, apart from possibly Ken and Dean, had any reason to grieve her passing. Maybe, like her, they too