The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

he’s deaf?” he suggested.
    Meli gaped at him. Of course, that would explain it. Her lips peeled back in a grin. “Hadn’t thought of that. I’ll have to get him checked out.” How typical, Meli was thinking, that Elsa would give her a deaf dog as a present. Elsa must have been laughing for weeks.
    “You do that,” the man nodded. Folding his arms, he leant casually on the fence, and turning his head glanced down the lane. “If you’re looking for your boys, they passed here about fifteen minutes ago, heading in that direction.”
    “How did you know?” Meli asked puzzled.
    He was looking at her again with his lazy grey eyes. “I’ve seen you all pass here together several times. And you had a look of urgency about you. Like you were looking for wayward children.”
    Very astute of you, she thought, but she was grateful to know that she was heading in the right direction. What were the twins up to? She glanced at her watch. Cal would be getting impatient by now. Either they had gone to the Post Office, although that was unlikely when they were going into town, or they were at the church. Reaching the Post Office, she stood on tip-toe and glanced through the window, just in case. No sign of them there. She carried on passed and crossing the road entered the graveyard.
    “David. George,” she called. Rounding the side of the church, she spied them. Well, rather she spied the lanky frame of Tim looming over the tops of gravestones, and guessed that the boys wouldn’t be far away. She was right, as she neared she saw the smaller figures of her sons kneeling on the ground.
    “There you are,” she called, slowing her pace. “What are you up to? We’re waiting to go.” Her fingers tightened on the lead as Quassi tried to drag her forward, tail lashing against her calves in his impatience to join the boys and snuffle around, checking out what they were up to.
    Three heads twisted to look her way. “Oh, hi mum,” David said in mild surprise, scrambling to his feet. Meli watched with some horror as he wiped soiled hands down his previously clean shorts. If they were delayed any longer by the boys having to get changed, well, Cal’s patience would no doubt fester like a month old cheese.
    “Stop that,” she cried, before more damage was done. The boys had been helping Tim weed, evidenced by the wheelbarrow to their side, a dozen or so uprooted carcasses festooned in its base, or rather, Meli got the impression, that they were weeding, and Tim was supervising.
    “Sorry,” Tim lowered his neck so he could look down at her. “I didn’t realise they were going out.”
    “Oh, that’s okay Tim, not you’re fault, but they should have known better.” Reaching the boys she took their hands and inspected the soil that was sticking to their sweaty palms and lodged beneath their nails. “Wipe that off on the grass over there.” When they’d finished, she checked them out. Apart from the streak of dirt on David’s shorts, they looked reasonably clean.
    “Come on, before your dad has a coronary,” she said, leading them away. “What were you both playing at?” she questioned, as soon as they were out of Tim’s earshot. “Disappearing, when you knew we were going out.”
    “But we’d promised to help the Grim Reaper this morning, hadn’t we Dave the Grave?” replied an amused looking George, obviously still enamoured by their new titles. When Dave nodded, he added. “We didn’t think a few minutes would matter.”
    Meli nodded to the vicar as they hurried passed him along the path, hoping he hadn’t caught the unholy names. As the road came into view, Meli was only half surprised to find that Cal was parked outside the church, and as they all bundled into the Fortura, she was not surprised at all, to notice that Cal’s fingers were drumming on the steering wheel impatiently, his baggy eyes glued ahead.
    “We’ll have to go back home first,” Meli ventured to remind her husband. “Need to drop Quassi off.” Cal was visibly biting his lip as he turned the vehicle and they set back for the lodge. Parking at the top of the lane, rather than squeeze passed the wrecks, Meli rushed Quassi indoors, trying to avoid either of them from stepping in cow poo. Cassie came thumping down the stairs.
    “Have you seen my hairbrush?” she demanded.
    Meli shook her head.
    “I bet those boys have hidden it,” she headed for the door.
    “Not now, Cassie. We’re late. Use mine, it’s on my