The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

apology, if only to try to maintain neighbourly relations. But how could they do that, when the more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that Elsa had been responsible?
    After all their guests had left, and some normality had been restored to the lodge, Meli broached the subject with Cal. “Do you think we should go and speak to Elsa? Explain about our visitors? Ask her about the car?” Accuse her of damaging one of them? She kept this notion to herself.
    Cal, who was feeling more human now, rejuvenated by a couple of hairy dogs, nodded. “S’pose so,” he replied, although by his maudlin expression he was not too keen. Meli was pleased he didn’t suggest she went by herself. A joint approach was definitely preferable to venturing down to the farmhouse on her own. Meli decided that she was fast developing some kind of phobia: an avoid-Elsa-phobia, she called it. Leaving the twins to argue over who filled the dishwasher, they set off.
    The front door to the farmhouse was ajar. Meli stood to one side and let Cal do the knocking. There was no reply to her husband’s bludgeoning of the knocker, not even one hunch-backed spider shimmied down its silvery thread like a sentinel to challenge those who dared approach the doorway to …? Standing back Meli ran her gaze over the front of the building. Although it was a hot day, all the windows were shut, and apart from one ground floor window (where half a dozen bluebottles were hurling themselves against the glass pane in a desperate bid to escape), the rest were rendered sightless by tattered dark curtains shuttered against the light.
    Stepping forward Cal pushed the door open wider and called out, “Hello.” The gloomy interior sucked in a huge lungful of air. They listened as it rattled away and in the distance they heard a door slam. Then, before Cal could take evasive action, the house exhaled, a huge lungful of warm, vermin infested, fusty breath that walloped him full in the face.
    “Uh, that’s disgusting…” Cal staggered back, and with much coughing and spluttering he jettisoned the foul taste from his body in a gungy ball of sputum that landed in a slathering blob between a pair of huge, off-white furry rabbits.
    Meli inhaled so sharply that the action made her light-headed. She had never in her life seen such a gigantic pair of fluffy rabbit slippers. Meeting the glare of the brattish ruby red eyes, their mud encrusted ears dragging indolently in the dirt, they could only belong to one person. Sure enough, lifting her gaze she found that the rabbits were indeed attached to the ends of Elsa’s legs. Once again the old woman had somehow managed to sneak up on her. She must have heard Cal’s comment; she certainly saw his action! So much for enhancing neighbourly relations! How embarrassing.
    “What are you doing here?” Elsa demanded tartly, her right eyelid twitching angrily as she somehow managed to point each eye in a different direction so she could glare at them both individually.
    “We wanted to explain, about the cars up the lane,” Meli said, finding herself totally intrigued by this never before witnessed feat. Could she really observe them both at the same time?
    “Cars, what cars?” Elsa grumbled. As she spoke she disentangled both eyes so they were parallel, and then she directed them towards the doorway to her home as if suddenly loosing interest in the trespassers “Don’t know nutting about any cars.” The rabbits lifted her up and began to bear her forward.
    “The one’s that you put a note on last night,” elaborated Cal, exchanging a frustrated look with his wife.
    Elsa cast her eyes, both of them this time, and glittered up at him darkly and with open malice. “You’ll have to speak up,” she snapped, twisting her left ear towards him, making his head jerk back to maintain a healthy distance.
    “We had some friends come to stay for the night, and we meant to ask your permission for them to park outside, but when Cal came down you weren’t in.” Meli gabbled quickly as she took over, trying to get through to her. She felt her skin crawl as if a platoon of miniature hairy black spiders were running all over her, as she found herself the subject of intense scrutiny.
    “Don’t mind your friends parking,” Elsa told her, focusing her attention on the door again as if drawn to the darkness “But I ain’t seen no cars there.” Before they could ask about the damage, and without another word, Elsa was