The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

those afghan coats that were so popular in the seventies, but absolutely stank like a dead yak when wet.
    “Come on,” Elsa gestured with her hand, commanding that Meli should follow she turned her back and began doing her shuffle across the yard. Beneath her feet, turbid puddles were growing in density, gradually swallowing the worn tops of the shiny stones. Feet! Meli’s eyes rounded as they noticed the other woman’s footwear. The wellies had gone, replaced by a pair of screaming scarlet sandals that had to be seen to be believed. Not only did they clash terribly with the green of her gown, but they looked as though they were being eaten alive, as the narrow straps were sucked into the bulbous flesh, making her feet look like two stringed loins of pork. Lifting her hand, Meli wiped away a film of rain from her eyes, shivering as she did so. With two long strides she caught up with Elsa.
    Trying to keep outside the pong zone, she fell into step as Elsa led them back through the yard, passed the farmhouse and down a trodden pathway that cut through a plot of overgrown weeds and grasses, heading towards the woods. For a moment, Meli was transported back to a child, and Amy’s frequent warnings rang in her head, warning her not to wander off with a stranger. No one knew where she was, or who she was with. She was breaking all the rules. The trees loomed overhead and swallowed them as they stepped between the tall, sleeping trunks. It was only the sound of distant barking that reassured her.
    “Is this where Quassi came from?” She enquired. Elsa didn’t answer, but tottered on, her walking stick and one inch twiglet heels sinking into the quaggy trail underfoot. An opening appeared ahead. Following Elsa through, Meli found herself in a gloomy glade, where over large raindrops bombarded them, having dripped their way through the vaulted, tree limbed ceiling overhead. The barking, caught within the cathedral effect, was ear shattering, but at least they had reached the source.
    Six kennels were visible through the chain links of the six foot high fence that encircled them, each filled with black dogs that appeared identical to Quassi, at least across the distance. Had Elsa been meddling with cloning? She couldn’t help but wonder. At any other time this might have seemed an odd thing to ponder, but out here, well, it seemed quite at home.
    “You wait here.” Meli just made out the curt order as Elsa let herself through a gate, allowing it to clank shut rather rudely in her face. Wrapping her fingers around the links, she peered through them as Elsa hobbled across to the kennels. As if using some form of sorcery, that was hidden from Meli’s sight, Elsa silenced the hounds. In the dramatic, deathly hush that followed, Meli thought that she could just make out the other woman’s muffled incantations; or was it just the soughing of the wind in the tree tops? Spellbound, the dogs all sank to their haunches.
    Elsa spent some time with each dog, petting and speaking to it in stifled tones that sounded like mumbo-jumbo to her, but obviously entranced her audience, who all sat quietly and attentively listened to her. Was she asking them if they had seen their lost brother? She hoped Elsa would soon get the answer, as she was beginning to feel extremely damp and cold. She glanced at her watch. It would soon be time to leave to pick up the boys.
    “Elsa,” she called. When there was no reply, Meli pressed her fingers to the gate and pushing it open set off across the patchy covering of grass. Up close, the runs were minefields of excrement and by comparison, the accompanying stench made Elsa smell like a coiffured French poodle. Although the animals looked to be in reasonable condition, given their unsavoury habitat, seeing the state of what had probably once been Quassi’s homemade Meli pleased that she had not sent him back, whilst at the same time she was planning to bath and de-flea him the moment he returned. To think that she had left him in the boys room. She’d have to strip the beds now as well.
    “Elsa,” she said again when she was two paces behind her. With all the grace of a vast blubbery tub of lard, the old woman shot into the air, crashing back to the earth so heavily that the aftershock could be felt from Exmouth to Lyme Regis. Spinning round she glared at Meli, her white whiskers twitching furiously. Although Meli hadn’t intentionally set out to startle Elsa, she did feel a brief sense of