The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

on her who the man was. It was Bill. She was stunned by how different he was. Mrs. Barber was much the same, although at least three stone lighter, but she had the same smile, same eyes, she even had the exact same haircut! Mrs. Barber looked as though she was stuck in a time warp, only affected by the ravages of advancing years and Cornettos.
    But Bill? In comparison, he looked as though his life had been through a grinder and spat out on the far side. His face was fuller, which suited him. His mean, black brows were sleek and arched, denoting intelligence with a hint of humour, rather than a mean disposition, and his lips were plumper and curling upwards at the corners, making him look, well, actually look like he was capable of smiling. But it was his eyes that were so different. Picking up the picture, she gazed into them. Meli had heard it said that the eyes were windows to the soul. If that was the case then the eyes she was looking at were the eyes of a dreamer, filled with aspirations, whereas the eyes in the here and now were windows to his own tortured dungeon where his dreams were nailed bleeding to the wall, his heart pinned alongside. His photo depicted a cheeky natured young man, more Leonardo Di Caprio, than Dick Dastardly. Life must have been devastatingly cruel over the years to create such a monster.
    Hearing footsteps, Meli quickly replaced the photo, and dived into the nearest seat, which was on the armchair, just as Mrs. Barber returned with a tray, which she slid onto the table. “You can be mum,” she told her, her eyes flicking across to the photo. Guiltily, Meli’s eyes followed, wondering if Mrs. Barber knew she had been prying? “It’s nice to put my feet up and be waited on for a change.” So saying, she swung her plate sized feet up onto the coffee table and wriggled her stockinged toes in the air like ten fat chipolatas, which gave off a faint odour reminiscent of raw pork, which had just been unwrapped.
    Obligingly, Meli poured them both cups of tea, and politely offered Mrs. Barber the plate of digestive biscuits. Taking three, Mrs. Barber balanced them on her mountainous lap with the cup and saucer. “I do like Wednesdays,” she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “How are things up at the lodge now? You must notice quite a difference?” Snapping a digestive in half, she gave it a good dunking in her hot drink, then with practiced ease, launched it into her mouth just before it disintegrated.
    Meli nodded as she added some sugar to her own tea and gave it a stir. “Definitely. I hadn’t realised what an impact Elsa had on my life, and it is amazing how different it all seems now.” She grinned. “Rather ordinary in fact.”
    Mrs. Barber nodded understandingly, waving the other half biscuit in front of her mouth, trying to hold off shoving it in until she’d finished what she wanted to say. “It’s strange, but even the bad things can leave their mark when they’ve gone. You sort of adjust your life around them, and then off they go, leaving a huge gaping hole. No respect.” She gave Meli a commiserating smile. Seeing an opening, the biscuit dived in.
    Meli nodded this time, trying not to stare as the Post Mistresses jaws rotated and chomped, producing enough energy to light up the whole of the village for an hour. She picked up her cup and took a sip. “Ken and Dean seem very nice.”
    Mrs. Barber swallowed, and then ran her cow sized tongue around her lips, in what Meli construed to be a rather nervous manner. “Yes, they are. It was a shame how things turned out for them.” Her words almost ground to a halt, before she added. “Things were never the same after Finn died, and they certainly didn’t improve none after Ken left.”
    “In what way?”
    Mrs. Barber gaped at her for a moment, as if wondering whether she had actually spoken the last sentence out loud, or whether Meli had somehow sucked it straight from the inside of her head. “Elsa didn’t seem to like being on her own,” she began. “Took it into her head to find other male companionship, if you know what I mean. Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Mrs. Barber’s voice deepened as though scraping gravel off the ground. “She wasn’t so bad looking in those days, and she knew how to dress to please the men. She caused a lot of unrest in the village with her unsavoury ways.” Her tone was clearly disapproving, as though she thought Elsa deserved to be stoned for this.
    A couple of images