The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

towards them, forgetting about the net. “Who are Dave the Grave and George the Morgue?”
    “You weren’t supposed to be eavesdropping,” David retorted, taking childish delight in getting his own back.
    “They’re our new names,” George told her, scrunched down, hammering a pin into one of the posts.
    “And where did you get those names from?” Meli was frowning now. Not exactly your common or garden nicknames; bit morbid.
    “The Grim Reaper,” they chorused together.
    “The Grim Reaper?” Meli repeated. She had a suspicion that she was not going to like this conversation.
    David nodded. “Neat, eh?”
    “Hmm,” Meli replied non committally, she was not amused. “Who is this person?”
    “He lives in the graveyard,” George supplied, swivelling his neck to gaze up at her. “That’s where we met him.”
    Not wanting them to clam up, Meli kept her expression void of the concern that was rising up her spine like mercury in a heat wave. “He sounds really interesting. What does he do in the graveyard?” She had visions of some flea infested tramp who lurked in graveyards and molested young boys.
    “We told you, he lives there. He’s always there, that’s when he’s not in the pub,” David chortled.
    The pub. So he was an old sop as well? “Do you see much of him?”
    “He’s always in the graveyard, every time we go.” David was unrolling a ball of string. “We haven’t seen him in the pub of course, cos you and dad hardly let us go there.”
    “No, you’re too young yet,” Meli commented absently, her mind racing. They had a nutty neighbour, armed with a rifle and pitchfork, and who talked to herself; now they had this creepy, alcoholic, child molester, who lurked in the graveyard. Maybe they had been better off in Reading. She resolved that this latest information would require some research.
    “So how is your Super Squirrel getting on?” she changed the subject before they became sensitive to her concern.
    David shot to his feet to address her, his button blue eyes shining. “He’s brill, he’s met every challenge so far, that’s why we’re adding this extension.”
    “So what’s the latest plan then?”
    Eager to share this, the boys became totally animated, like a pair of magicians assistants as they moved along the apparatus, motioning at the specified sections with flamboyant gestures of their hands. “From this point, he’s got to scale this mesh, leap onto this post,” David was still spokesperson. “Then clamber along the washing line to the next post and run along that branch.”
    “Then,” George broke in. “He has to leap six foot onto this frame, then clamber down to the food.” Although the corner of the garden looked like something from Scrap Heap Challenge, Meli couldn’t help but be impressed. She’d heard that squirrels were clever, but this looked quite impressive.
    “Next time you see him here you’ll have to call me, I’d like to watch.”
    Absenting herself, Meli returned to the living room and stood staring down at her still sleeping husband. His mouth had flopped open and his lips vibrated with every snore that rumbled up from his throat. She needed to speak to him about this latest development. She tried slamming a door. When that had no effect, she threw herself down next to him, almost catapulting him from his seat. Apart from a pig like grunt, there was no other reaction after his crumpled body settled back into place. Rising to her feet, she went into the kitchen for a handful of cutlery. Dropping it from a height it crashed onto the quarry tiles. That did the trick.
    Cal’s eyes flew open and he jerked forward in his chair, hands tightly gripping the armrest. “What, what,” he garbled, staring around in confusion.
    “Oh, you’re awake then,” Meli told him innocently as she stooped down to pick up the knives and forks scattered around her feet. “You looked well away then.”
    Cal blinked several times, and cleared his dry throat. “Get me a glass of water will you?” he asked.
    Pouring a pint of water she took it through to him. “Have you heard of the Grim Reaper?” she asked.
    “Yea, scary guy in a black cloak, face hidden behind a cowl, carries a scythe,” he took a long draw of water. “Collects the dead.”
    Meli pouted at him. “I mean, have you heard of anyone locally by that name?”
    Lifting his head he stared at her, his face screwed into a frown. “What are you on about? Who in their right mind would