The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

deciding that adding anything more would be like fanning an already kindled flame.
    It was nearly 8.30 p.m. when the twins reappeared. Hurtling past the sofa they battled against each other to be the first to reach the kitchen. Meli had completely forgotten about them. Listening to the crash of cupboard doors, she knew she should go and check on them, but sprawled out, with her feet stretched across Cal’s lap, she felt too relaxed to be bothered. Whatever mess they made they would have to clear up.
    “Mum, mum,” came two breathless voices, “Come on, pick a name.” Both boys were smirking mischievously as they confronted their mother, gripping a plastic mixing bowl between them like two hyenas about to play tug-of-war with the stolen hind leg of a gazelle.
    “What’s going on?” Cal intervened, resisting the impulse to shoo them away as they blocked his sight of a red faced Tommy Walsh beavering away at an old Victorian door with sandpaper. Removing Meli’s legs, he sat forward to inspect the contents of the bowl. Gazing in, he found the bottom buried under a layer of screwed up pieces of paper.
    “Names for the dog,” Meli explained. Cal’s eyebrows rose slightly.
    “You don’t mean you’ve agreed to them choosing a name?” He was clearly appalled by the very notion.
    “No, of course not, I said I would choose.” As she spoke, Meli realised her mistake. She had no way of knowing what the boys had come up with; she should have stipulated some restrictions. “There’s nothing dodgy in here, is there?” she quizzed them, scrutinising their angelic faces from beneath lowered brows. She caught Dog’s eyes across the room. Rising to his feet he trotted over to her and placing his paws on her knees, glanced at her with big soppy brown eyes, as if he too was worried about his future standing with the rest of the local canine community. Meli wondered what he would think if they named him Fido, or Bozo, or some other naff name.
    Meli’s hand hovered over the opening, her eyes scanning the hopeful scraps of paper with the same care she took each week when selecting the lottery numbers, trying to muster that sixth sense that would ensure she was lucky; although as they were still practically potless, it only went to prove the point that she was severely lacking in this area. Her eyes fixed on one piece. Yes, that was it. As her fingers dived in, Cal’s hand caught hers mid flight.
    “Once mum has picked out a name, I propose that we still have a vote on it.” The boys exchanged glances.
    “But that’s not fair,” they said in unison. “Mum said…”
    A stubby finger, thrashing through the air like a baton, silenced them. “I don’t care; we have to have some decorum. Mum will choose and then we’ll have a family vote.”
    “Promise?” said David. When their father nodded the twins seemed to settle for this.
    When Cal released her hand, Meli took a moment searching for her original choice. There really was no way to be sure which it was, they all looked so alike. She was conscious of the three heads crowding in towards her. Taking a deep breath she plunged her hand in and her fingers grabbed the first piece they came into contact with. Holding it tightly to her chest she unrolled it.
    Quassi; short for Quassimodo? Meli glanced down at the little face. He wasn’t the most handsome dog. Under her critical look Dog cocked an eyebrow, raising his right ear, giving his face a lopsided appeal. Somehow, the name seemed quite cute. Her face broke into a satisfied grin as she passed the paper to Cal. He too studied Dog’s face, and after a moment he shrugged.
    “Could be worse I suppose,” he was rising to his feet. “Poor bloody mutt.”
    “Dad and I are both voting for this one.” She held it out so the twins could read it.
    “But that was George’s suggestion,” blurted David with a stamp of his foot when he saw the name. “You always do what he says.” It was total rubbish of course.
    “Then I’m sure George will also vote for Quassi, so that makes it a majority of three to one in favour.” Meli stated flatly. Nobody mentioned giving Cassie a vote.
    With a whoop of joy George threw himself on a startled Quassi, and gave him a big hug.
    Cal reappeared from the toilet. “And just where is ….. Quassi,” he stumbled over the name, “Going to sleep?”
    Meli shrugged, she had no idea. “We’ll just have to leave him the run of the house. Everyone will just have to keep their