The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

such a scare,” she gulped, glancing around the side of the unwavering envelop and giving the old woman a nervous smile.
    Elsa ’s beady black eyes bore into her own with the intensity of lasers, causing a cold sweat to trickle over her body. Did Elsa take some satisfaction from having frightened her?
    “ It’s your birthday.” Meli nodded her agreement slowly. Somehow her neighbour made it sound like an accusation of some heinous crime. “This is for you.”
    Meli shifted her gaze back to the envelop that was still stretched out towards her, but was now swishing through the air, just beneath the tip of her nostrils. Automatically she found herself reaching up and accepting it, if only to ensure that Elsa didn ’t slice her nose off with it. Now she had an uninterrupted view of Elsa’s face, she was trying desperately hard not to stare rudely at the large glutinous red stain that seeped from the left of her thin lips and widened out to cover the nub of her knobbly chin, congealing around the roots of the coarse covering of hairs. Tomato ketchup maybe? Ox blood? She shuddered.
    “ They’ll be a present later.” The words generated several impromptu and unsavoury thoughts. A present. What would someone like Elsa consider an appropriate present? A necklace made from a string of fat juicy earthworms, threaded together from mouth to derriere on a length of cotton, or worse still maggots? Or maybe a stuffed rat’s head mounted on a plaque to hang over the fireplace; or maybe even a hedgehog pie, topped with a large dollop of butter (if the word in the village was to be believed, Elsa used butter and margarine like other people would use cream - as a topping on everything; in fact she was rumoured to eat it straight from the tub with a spoon). The Chelsea Bun she’d enjoyed earlier began to clamber up the sides of her gullet, racing the muesli she’d eaten for breakfast. Hastily she swallowed.
    “ That’s very nice of you,” Meli was struggling to find some way to decline the mind churning offer without causing offence.
    “ You’ve been crying.”
    Meli stood back, affronted, not only that Elsa had noticed she had been crying, particularly as she had thought a layer of carefully applied make-up had concealed this pretty well, but also that she so blatantly commented on it.
    “I, I had something in my eye earlier,” she stammered unconvincingly, cringing as she heard the words emerge from her lips. Not the most original statement.
    “ Hey?” Elsa squinted as she cocked her left ear in Meli’s direction, and lifting a clump of matted hair fibres, she treated Meli to the dubious pleasure of staring at the badly fitting hearing aid, which was plugged into the opening of her lughole and held fast by a watertight sealant of brownish/black earwax. Meli averted her gaze.
    “ I said that was very kind of you, for the card,” she replied in a raised voice, gesturing meaningfully with the envelop. Meli saw no point in repeating the pathetic excuse, and having chosen to ignore the personal statement, she decided to wind-up the conversation as speedily as possible. She inhaled so sharply that the sudden influx of oxygen into her brain made her light-headed, as with some relief, she watched the curious woman pigeon-step in a half circle and lumber away, leaving behind her a strange fusty aroma in the air.
    From her right, Tabby appeared, leaping out from behind a potted tub of marigolds. Bouncing lightly over the cobbled driveway, she quickly traced her mistresses’ steps. Meli heard Elsa’s cursed greeting as soon as she saw her and lifting up her stick, she took a hefty swipe at her with its blunt tip. Unperturbed, the matchstick cat evaded injury by diving over the pendulum as it gathered speed towards her, and alighted on the top of the stone wall that ran alongside. Perching on the convex coping stones, she turned a pair of bright amber eyes over her shoulder and regarded Meli with her cold gaze for a moment before dropping down out of sight on the far side. Meli was glad she wasn’t a black cat as thoughts of witches and their familiars sneaked into her mind. Or could witches have cats of any colour? An icy shiver ran through her body. What was it about their neighbour that gave her the creeps? She gave a final glance after the departing figure. After all, it was quite normal to be standing on someone’s doorstep, face welded to the paintwork of the door, a knitted red bobble hat perched elf-like on