The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

a fishing village and they fish for cod. Beside, the man in the church told me.”
    Meli clamped her teeth tightly onto her lips now. There was a bit of logic there. She placed an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, concealing her grinning face by burying it in his golden hair. “Yes, I can see why you might think that. But I think you’ll find it does say God. The G is just a little worn.”
    Lifting her head slightly, her eyes fell on David. She squinted at him, daring him to say another word on the subject.
    “My turn for Quassi.” David reached out and took the lead from his brother’s unresisting hand. Meli wondered what man George had been referring to. Somehow, she didn’t think it would be the Vicar.

    Meli had cheated. Although she had made the main course: two huge dishes of beef lasagne - her speciality -, everything else was shop brought, from the prawn cocktail starters to the vegetarian meal for Cassie, and the lemon meringue and cheesecakes for desserts. A costly way to do things, but she just didn’t seem to have the time to devote to cooking, nor the inclination if she was truthful. Given a choice between cooking or walking bare foot and naked over hot coals, well, the latter came a close second. That was probably why she only had one speciality.
    Glancing at the clock she saw that it was three thirty. Cal would be home soon, Cassie hadn’t emerged from her room, except for the occasional cup of tea - and certainly not to offer any help -, and the boys? They had been extremely quiet for some time now, and come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Quassi. Washing the last dish, Meli wandered round the house. Quassi was curled up asleep outside Cassie’s room, and he didn’t stir when Meli approached him. Listening at her daughters door she heard the muffled sound of her voice. She must be on her mobile, Meli decided. The boys room was empty.
    Collecting a supply of clean tea towels from the airing cupboard she took them downstairs with her and left them on the drainer. Moving to the door, she stared out into the garden. She stiffened. Two posts, about two foot high, had been erected into Cal’s lawn about six feet apart, and the boys were at that moment running a length of washing line between them. Throwing back the door she called out. “What are you two doing?”
    Without looking up David called back. “We’re making the assault course.”
    “What assault course?” Meli stepped towards them.
    “Oh mum,” David swivelled his head to look at her disparagingly. “For Super Squirrel and his nuts. We did tell you.” His look was daring her to deny it.
    Meli couldn’t deny it. She had some vague and distant recollection that something might have been mentioned, although where and when and what had been agreed, if anything, was a blank. “But dad won’t like you sticking stakes in his lawn,” Meli protested. “You’ll have to move them.” Both boys looked at her aghast.
    “No way, it took hours to do this,” gasped George. For the first time Meli noticed indents in the grass, which on closer inspection turned out to be the smashed up remains of pallets and crates, and a selection of tools, including a mammoth sledge hammer. She wondered where everything had come from, and more baffling, why she hadn’t heard them.
    “But this is all a hazard, someone could easily trip over. Besides why would the squirrel try and run along that?” she pointed at the washing line. “When it can reach the nuts from the trees?”
    David’s eyes gleamed. “Because we’re going to move them. We’ve going to erect that.” It was David’s turn to point. Following his straight arm, Meli saw something her initial gaze had somehow missed.
    Moving for a closer inspection, Meli’s heart sank. “What’s it supposed to be?”
    George had rushed ahead of her. “It’s a platform. We made it ourselves. It’ll stand five foot high, and we’ll put the nuts on it.” His blue eyes flashed like sapphires, his voice brimming excitedly.
    Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, Meli stood shaking her head. “Dad’s not going to like this,” she predicted with great astuteness as she eyed the monstrous wooden contraption, with nails protruding from it. “Not one bit.” Noticing the disappointment clouding their eager faces she relented slightly. “Look, stop work for now, and wait until dad comes home. I’m sure he’ll help.” She knew he would because she would tell him too. The