The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

evening at home in front of the TV with a bottle of red wine.
    Not only was the mutt still in residence, but when he had gone to the cupboard, and regardless of how hard he searched the shelves, there wasn’t a bottle of wine to be found. It hadn’t improved his mood when Meli had coyly informed him that she had been so wrapped up in buying things for the dog that she had clean forgot about his wine, and also about her assurance that she would sort her stock today and actually buckle down and get on with her work. This told him two things. One that Meli wasn’t really ready to get on, and the other that he had been firmly relegated to number five in his wife’s top ten list of priorities, beaten by two sons, a moody daughter and now a bloody dog. Even then he suspected that he was only just ahead of the remaining five, which included, in no particular order: cleaning the loo and doing the weekly shop. Feeling sorry for himself he made do with a glass of whisky. He made sure it was a large one to compensate.
    Glancing at her husband as he sat on the sofa, his miserable eyes firmly glued to some DIY channel, Meli did feel a pique of remorse. How could she have forgotten his request to stock up on wine? But she had been so distracted by the dog; firstly trying to get rid of it, then accepting defeat, making sure his stay with them was as comfortable as possible. She would have to make up for it somehow.
    “Snoopy,” George’s voice bawled down the stairs.
    “No, Darth Vader,” came David’s. They were still arguing about the name of the new family member. Knowing that if the boys disturbed their dad, especially by mentioning the ‘best not spoken of’ subject of the dog, he would probably blow his stack, she raced across the room and up the stairs.
    “Will you two keep it down?” she blazed into their room. “Just write down some suggestions and I’ll pull one out of a hat.” There, that should keep them quiet.
    “But that’s not fair,” shrieked David, “Darth Vader or Skywalker would be cool.”
    “But mum, we haven’t got a hat,” pointed out George annoyingly.
    “I mean it, if I hear either of you shout out one more name I’ll call him Blackie,” she warned, wagging her finger at them. The threat seemed to work, as both boys scrabbled around the room hunting for pen and paper. Emerging onto the landing, she bumped into Cassie. Mother and daughter traded looks. I told you it would be nothing but trouble, was firmly encrusted on Cassie’s thrusted chin, while Meli’s whole expression just looked exasperated. Dog, who had followed Meli upstairs, stood to one side when Cassie passed him, undecided who to honour with his company. When the bathroom door was slammed in his face, he turned and trotted after Meli.
    “I’m sorry,” Meli told Cal as she sat beside him, the bottle of Bell’s in one hand and a spare glass in the other. The whisky had obviously mellowed his mood as he twisted in his seat and pecked her on the lips. The blast of neat alcohol on his breath made one of her eyes water.
    “Just try to remember tomorrow.”
    “There’s no way I’ll forget,” she assured him, topping up his glass and pouring herself a small one. “You’re my number one.” She squeezed his thigh, giving added meaning to her words. Behind them they both heard Cassie’s theatrical groan. Having been forgiven, and taking the opportunity to grab his attention while the ads were on, Meli went on to relay the details of her visit to see Elsa, and her unnerving experience in the yard.
    “So what are you saying?” Cal pressed as he struggled to suppress the grin tugging at his lips, and only succeeding in making them twitch foolishly. “That there is something spooooky out there?” His tone was mocking, especially after her previous revelation about Amy’s visitation.
    Meli shook her head as she swept her own glass off the table and knocked back the contents, trying not to give in to the mounting anger that was swirling fuzzily around the inside of her head, provoked by his mickey taking, and possibly the effects of the Bell’s. Loosing herself in the bottom of the glass for a moment, she magnanimously put his appalling display in judgement down to the vast amount of alcohol he’d imbibed. “Of course not silly. You had to be there to understand.” She eventually responded. After all, even Dog had felt it, and dogs were very sensitive to these things. Meli refrained from saying this out loud,