The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

some time before she would eat. Cal wouldn’t get home until about seven, then by the time he had washed and changed it would be getting on for eight. Not that this worried her; often she had little or no appetite.
    As it turned out, Cal arrived home early, spurred by his wife ’s unexpected phone call. He surprised Meli when he came bounding through the door with a cardinal-red rose clenched between his teeth; matador style. Only he wasn’t the svelte figure in skin tight trousers and bulging groin. Well, his trousers were tight, very tight in fact, but only where his amply-upholstered belly and flanks strained within the confines of the polyester. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him.
    To add to the comical appearance, he looked as if he ’d had a street brawl with Mike Tyson on the way home; from the heavy black rings under his eyes to his beaten-up suit, rumpled shirt and crooked tie. He’d obviously had a hard day. The only parts to escape this trounced look was the close cropped woolen thatch that passed for hair (and which even a gale force wind couldn’t breach), and his sharp crystal blue eyes, which at that moment were discreetly assessing her.
    Sweeping the rose from his mouth he held it out to her with a low bowing movement, like a gallant rogue. “A rose for my rose,” he greeted with a smile the size and shape of a large curved banana. “Happy birthday.”
    It wasn ’t the most original greeting, but her grin widened as she accepted the proffered gift graciously with one hand, while reaching across with the other and wiping a tiny trickle of blood from the corner of his lip with a finger. “You should have brought a thornless rose,” she mocked gently, “if you intended playing silly buggers.”
    For an instant their eyes locked. Breaking contact, Meli turned away, slipping the rose into the same vase as the one served with her coffee and cards that morning, before moving to the sink and rinsing the blood stain from her finger under the cold tap. Cal had an uncanny ability to lay bare her very soul when he fixed his eyes on her that way, it was like being scanned by some futuristic machine that could bore right into the grey matter inside her head, read her thoughts. What did he find there?
    “Sorry for messing you about by changing my mind, about dinner tonight, but you’ll be pleased to know that I think I’ve finally laid my ghosts to rest.” Meli felt that she owed him an explanation, and it was better to select her own version of why, rather than let him ride rough-shot through the desolate wilderness of her mind. An unwelcoming place which even she avoided. It was a shame that the carefree moment when Cal had arrived home had vanished now. It had been fun while it lasted. Drying her hands, she steeled herself to face him. He was right behind her, and before she could turn, he caught her in his arms and almost totally enveloped her slight frame in his as he wrapped her in a huge bear-hug.
    “ If that’s the case, then I’m really pleased for you,” he whispered in her ear. Tightening his grip, he attacked her neck with his plump lips, nibbling and nuzzling the sensitive skin playfully, instantly reducing Meli to helpless giggles.
    It took her several seconds of squirming and counter foul play: drilling her elbows into his ribs and stamping on his toes, plus the timely arrival of Cass, before Meli managed to escape him. Rearranging her clothing, Meli watched Cal saunter away to change, before she stole a look at her daughter, meeting a pair of clearly disapproving, aquamarine eyes.
    “We were only messing about,” she countered the objectionable look with one of her own. “Your dinners in the microwave.”
    “ You know, you do look different,” Cal told her a little later as he finished stuffing his belly into a pair of navy trousers so he could zip them up. He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. “What happened?”
    “ I feel, I just feel different, somehow,” she replied with disarming sincerity as she met his reflection in the dressing table mirror. Sitting forward she reached out and picked up her hair brush. “I’ve been up in the loft.” She caught the sight of Cal’s eyebrows rising up his forehead, making his eyes widen. They both knew that the only thing up there was The Box. She indicated the top of the wardrobe with her brush, where the tin was now mounted.
    Cal nodded his approval. “That’s good,” he commented. “No, that’s