‘This is a special book – CHRISTMAS 2025 OUR FAMILY’
‘Old photos, who wants to look at old photos?’
‘I do, they must have lived in this house.’
‘Ha ha, look at what they are wearing.’
‘The garden has changed a lot since then, rather cute, flowers all different colours.’
‘Boring, turn over…. Yuk, what is that?’
‘A baby, what some people used to have instead of cats.’
‘Why?’
‘Not sure, maybe all will be revealed if we keep turning the pages.’
‘Why are they sitting on the ground looking at water?’
‘I’ll do a historic data check…. Sea side, that’s what a beach looks like…’
‘Boring, turn to the next page. That baby thingy seems to be getting bigger.’
‘I’ll data check… it’s growing.’
‘Why?’
‘It doesn’t say, just that they grow quickly.’
‘Keep going, oh it’s standing up, I wouldn’t want one of those things clinging to my leg.’
‘Look, here’s the front of our house, more flowers, lots more people, wonder how many lived here?’
‘Strange clothes, next page… they have put those baby things in boxes with wheels, our cats wouldn’t put up with that. Last page, what on earth is that great big green thing? I’ll data check… a Christmas tree, a tree chopped down and put indoors, no wonder there aren’t any trees left outside.’
‘Right, it’s time we went to check if the cats have finished playing with the humans.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own Mum with Dad in the Antarctic?’
‘Everest base camp.’
‘Wherever, I know it’s somewhere cold and far away.’
I was of course looking forward to the peace and quiet. Naturally I had the normal worries about Amy going off to Australia for her gap year, but I was sure she had inherited her father’s adventurous but capable spirit. She was going with Lizzy her sensible best friend, inseparable since nursery.
The first week it was strange, but friends at work suggested a few outings, glad to have a break from their own husbands who showed no inclination to leave Ealing, let alone go on adventures broad.
I had always had Amy and Ben keeping me busy when Kit was away. Now Ben was grown up, in theory at least and teaching English as a foreign language somewhere nearer to Everest than Ealing.
The new girl at work was very quiet, but apparently she was highly regarded down in packing, where I used to work as a part timer when the children were in primary school. She was dexterous and quick and could pack anything. The company specialised in delivering high quality food in designer biodegradable boxes. We would source and deliver any request from romantic ready dinners to Tower Bridge birthday cakes.
I had progressed to tasting and testing and then upwards to the busy office, where we would source unlikely ingredients and make sure no delivery was ever late. I don’t think Kit or the children ever appreciated what a high powered and stressful job I did, especially in the last half a dozen years with all the world’s troubles affecting supplies.
Our boss likes to look after his staff, it’s why I have stayed so long. I was the first to agree we should hang on to Flinty, the new girl. What I didn’t expect was to become a foster mother.
When the boss said ‘You have a spare room now you’re an empty nester?’
I replied ‘…sort of.’
Flinty had never revealed much about her life and everyone in packing seemed to have heard a different version. Her family lived up north, her mother had gone off to Spain to find herself, her father had just gone off. She was house sharing with uni students, she was house sharing with drug addicts, she was living with her boyfriend’s parents, an aunt had taken her in.
Whatever the truth, it now seemed she was not living anywhere and there was no longer a boyfriend. All she needed was somewhere to sleep for a few nights and HR were going to look into finding her somewhere. She came home with me that evening.
I wasn’t sure how to be a landlady, was I in loco parentis or was she just a lodger? I made us both dinner, thinking of the cosy TV meal I had planned for myself. While it was in the oven I rushed up to Amy’s room and grabbed her personal things and some of the clothes in her wardrobe and stashed everything in Kit’s office that had one been Ben’s bedroom.
Flinty was happy with the room and approved of Amy’s décor. I was thankful I had persuaded Kit last year we should absorb the box room into our bedroom and create an en-suite shower room. Flint was very happy to have exclusive use of the family bathroom.
The next morning we established she would help herself to breakfast, especially as she started work earlier than me. She also assured me that she did not expect me to cook for her and she would ‘sort herself out’.
Over the next few days I realised this meant endless ready meals, mainly eaten in her/Amy’s room. She really wasn’t too much trouble, except for the bin filling up with the ready meal packaging and the washing machine being on when I was in bed. It wasn’t for long, I consoled myself and I only had to call the police once.
I don’t know how the angry ex boyfriend found out where she lived, but she was not pleased to see him, hysterical in fact. The poor neighbours wondered what all the shouting and breaking glass was about and also called the police. We were quite impressed how quickly they turned up. I think old Audrey next door had mentioned guns. The main thing was they took him away and I made coffee for the three of us as the nice woman police officer stayed for a good while. Strangely she had apparently met Flinty before and was surprised I did not know ‘what was going on.’
Flinty retreated to bed as soon as the officer had left. The next morning she sat eating her cereal as if nothing had happened and was soon out the door and off to work.
I checked my phone, not expecting any messages yet from Kit. It was long agreed that I would only hear if there was an emergency when communication was so difficult, so I got a fright when I saw a text message home tonight, broken ankle, don’t worry.
Kit had a charmed life, no harm ever seemed to come to him. At least he wasn’t in hospital and an ankle was hardly the end of the world, but what a time for it to happen. I messaged back to get some idea what time he might arrive, then I had to get myself off to work.
No mention was made of last night’s adventure, if Flinty had told them down in packing, the gossip had not made it upstairs. I got one text from Kit and decided I could just get home before he arrived back.
As I walked up my garden path the front door was flung open, it was not Kit, but Amy.
‘Mum, we’ve had burglars, my room!’
Before I could explain I saw a police car come round the corner followed by a taxi. It was the police woman from last night.
‘Nothing to worry about, this is just a welfare visit.’
Kit was hobbling up the garden path behind her.
Flinty disappeared, she did not return to our house and was never seen at work again. Somehow that made it harder to explain to Kit and Amy what had been going on, when it was as if she had never existed.
The police officer questioned me as if I was hiding her and questioned Amy and Kit as to whether they were involved in ‘all this business.’
Kit questioned Amy as to why on earth she was back so soon. It transpired that she had realised she didn’t like travelling, especially when Lizzie met a chap in the first week and decided to cross the Nullabor Plain with him in his camper van.
The other kids called him The Sponge because of the effortless way he soaked up information. His parents had thought he might meet his match at the large senior school, no longer top dog as he was at primary school, but he was soon a legend. Far from being an awkward genius his quick wit and sense of humour attracted friends and the fact he did their homework for them ensured a loyal following.
Mr and Mrs Nardo had followed family tradition of naming first born sons Leo. By the time he was four they had realised he was far cleverer than them and his younger siblings just took it for granted that Leo knew everything. They were not quite as clever as Leo, but their parents continued producing babies, considering it was their duty to contribute to the gene pool.
At school the teachers played down his abilities. As he appeared to have no syndromes, nor be on any spectrum they were not eligible for extra funding to get university professors in to keep Leo challenged. Instead, an afterschool club was started, for children with ‘extra interests’, it was not to be suggested that the little group were clever or cleverer than all the other pupils.
Leo was soon running the group and showing off his party tricks such as writing normally with his left hand and writing back to front on the other side of the paper with his right hand at the same time. He said it was easy, but nobody else in the group could do it. Parents were persuaded to contribute so the group could buy Lego and chemistry sets and all sorts of items that inventors would need. A teacher was present merely for health and safety reasons.
Dinner time at home was always lively and Mr and Mrs Nardo tried to make sure all the children got a chance to talk about their day, but somehow by the time they were eating pudding Leo had an intellectual conversation underway.
‘I was thinking it would be impossible to work out who the cleverest person in the world is, because nobody else would be clever or knowledgeable enough to understand how much that person knew or understood.’
‘Or she’ butted in his sister’ why can’t the cleverest person be a woman?’
‘They could be’ said Leo ‘but I was thinking it would be me, but how would I know?’
His parents sighed.
‘I don’t think it matters,’ said his father ‘all you have to do is use your talents for good, not for power or money.’
‘Yes I’ve already considered that. I will need a good deal of money for all my inventions, but I could get investors for that. I thought I could save the whole planet.’
‘Rather ambitious, but an excellent idea’ said his mother. ‘Will that be after university?’
‘No, soon, I’ve already written a book about how to do it. I just need to publish it. You can read it if you like.’
After dinner his parents sat at the state of the art computer they had given Leo for Christmas and started reading the word document of 300, 000 words. There were only about thirty words they understood.
‘The first few chapters are about metaphysics’ said Leo airily ‘I want readers to keep an open mind about the universe.’
His father hoped they would not be expected to proof read it and suggested as a joke he self published on Amazon first. Leo thought that a good idea and persuaded his father to open an account, then leave him to get on with it.
By Sunday evening he had borrowed his mother’s Kindle and showed the family his new book. By Wednesday a box arrived from Amazon with his weighty tome in paperback. He took a few copies to school.
The head of the science department was surprised and impressed with the cover design and happy and not a little amused to accept a signed copy as a gift, promising to start reading it in his lunch break.
In the afternoon science lesson Leo asked him what he thought of it so far. He responded by asking Leo what his parents thought of it.
‘Well to be honest, I don’t think they understood a word.’
The teacher was relieved as he grappled with the right words of encouragement.
‘Ah, I am managing to understand it so far, well the introduction at least…’
She had heard her mother talking to Aunty Lucy, a throwaway remark. They were in the garden, it was her tenth birthday party.
‘Of course poor Arabella has no imagination whatsoever.’
They were watching her younger sister Anastatia organize Arabella’s friends in some kind of fantasy adventure. Anastasia was playing the bold princess while Arabella was supposed to be a peasant girl hiding from the dragon and destined to be eaten.
‘Anastasia’s just like you were at that age’ said Aunty Lucy to Arabella’s mother. ‘We always knew you would be on the stage or become a writer.’
‘Or both’ twittered her mother.
‘I expect Arabella will take after Justin’ said Lucy unconvincingly.
The girls’ father was an artist, successful in several fields from high class book illustrations and theatre designs to proper paintings that people wanted on the walls of their homes.
‘She’s very good with her hands,’ continued Lucy ‘knitting and that little tapestry she made me.’
‘Well she has a logical mind, just following patterns…’
Thirty year old Arabella closed her eyes on the memory, closed her eyes to the television screen, then opened them long enough to press the off button on the remote control. It was Jack, her husband, who had reminded her that her mother and sister were appearing on yet another intellectual arts programme. Her family were always on television or radio, though not often together.
‘Have I missed it?’ Jack came bowling into the room.
‘No, or rather you haven’t missed much.’
She picked up her comforting knitting.
‘Is the baby asleep?’
‘Yes of course.’ Arabella laughed. ‘Just like me apparently, my mother used to say I slept through the night from two months old, always needed my sleep, then it was a shock when they had Anastasia. Mother reassured herself that the sleepless nights were because Anastasia had an overactive brain, highly intelligent.’
‘I am glad we have our ordinary little chap, heaven forbid he should turn out like your sister. I like our serene life and I am lucky to have you both.’
It was true thought Arabella, they were happy in their own little world and would snuggle up with a nice nature programme tonight, then turn over in time for Big Ben and welcome 2025. No wishes or resolutions, just thankful for what they had. Though as the bells chimed she couldn’t help wishing she had a little bit of imagination, just enough to know what it was like. Perhaps she would invent bedroom scenarios for her and Jack, she had read in magazines that couples did that. Or make up stories to tell the baby later on.
The next day they went to the big park for their traditional New Year’s Day walk, the baby safely strapped to Arabella and cosy inside her coat. A young child on a scooter whizzed by and she suddenly had a picture in her mind of the child hurtling off, hitting the bitumen head first and being attacked by the big dog she had just spotted. No sooner had this thought entered her mind than Jack suddenly bolted ahead, telling her to stay put.
A small crowd hid what was happening from Arabella’s view. Then Jack emerged with a firm grip on the dog’s collar. Several worried adults were rushing over, it was hard to tell who belonged to the child and who to the dog, until Jack handed the dog to someone waving a lead. He trotted back to his own family.
‘The poor grandparents couldn’t keep up with her…’
‘.. and she ran into the dog and fell off and seeing the creature lying on the ground revived the dog’s ancient hunting instincts and he went for her throat? And you’re a hero.’ Arabella concluded.
‘Not exactly, the dog was licking her face and she was crying because she hurt her knee.’
On the way home they passed the New Year fairground at the other end of the park. They looked up at the big rides.
‘Be a while before we take our chap on those rides’ said Jack.
‘Thank goodness, imagine if the big wheel got stuck when we were at the top’ said Arabella.
‘I’m sure the council makes sure all the rides are safe.’
‘I still wouldn’t take the chance.’
When they watched the local news that evening the fairground appeared on the screen.
Fire rescue teams were called when the big wheel stopped and could not be started. In view of the below zero temperatures, the difficult decision was taken to bring people down from the top on the fire ladders.
‘Oh I can’ t believe it, just what I imagined happening’ said Arabella.
Arabella was beginning to wonder if she had been granted imagination, was this what it was like, making things happen. She dismissed the thoughts from her mind.
The next day was an outing to the pantomime with Jack’s sister and family. Arabella thought the baby was a bit young, but had been reassured that it was a special calm performance for autistic children like Jack’s nephew or deaf children, or anybody that didn’t like screaming and shouting on stage or off.
‘Sign language, subtitles and miming, the baby will just sleep through it. We’re at the back of the top circle apparently, in case we do have to take the baby out.’
Arabella had not realised just how high up they would be in the top circle.
‘Thank goodness we’re at the back, I wouldn’t like to be in the front row and those steps down are so steep, if you weren’t careful you could go hurtling over.’
As soon as her words were uttered a small child flashed by running and whooping down the steps, ignoring his frantic mother who was yelling at him to stop. There was a collective gasp from others getting settled in their seats. Luckily the child was shorter than the barrier wall and collided with it, but the momentum his mother had picked up propelled her straight over. Any hope of calm had evaporated.
Debby paused with the kettle in her hand. She had seen a flash of red in her smart grey and white kitchen. There it was again, she must hurry up and make that appointment at Specsavers. She took her glasses off, polished the lenses then put them on again, only to see a flash of green and red. Blinking she looked around the kitchen and that was when she saw it, sitting on the mug shelf, one of those ghastly elves that parents moved around the house in December to spy on their children. Now she had her own Elf on the Shelf, but how on earth did it get there, she had taken a bone china mug down seconds ago to make her tea and it wasn’t there then. They had baskets full of them at the garden centre, but she hadn’t bought one. Her grandsons hadn’t been here for a week and it was hardly likely the girls next door had sneaked in when they came to retrieve their netball from the back garden. Well he might as well stay up there till Fergus and Hamish came round tomorrow, she would tell them the elf was watching over to make sure they behaved. Not much hope of that working, but worth a try. She wasn’t allowed to call them naughty boys, according to her daughter they just did naughty things occasionally, especially when she dumped them round at Debby’s. Rather ironic that Debby had been delighted to have a daughter, easier than bringing up boys she assumed and not thinking that a daughter might produce boys she would have to get involved with.
As she sat and relaxed with a cup of tea in the lounge she could not believe what she saw when she looked up from her newspaper. The elf was on top of the curtain rail. Perhaps she needed a brain scan as well as an eye test. Or was she an unknowing participant in a reality television show, her reactions being filmed, but who could have sneaked in here ahead of her. She could not reach the elf to see if it was battery operated. The best thing to do was go in the other room and catch up with her emails and other stuff on the computer, maybe look up elves or practical jokes.
The only practical joke was played by the elf as he suddenly leapt onto the screen from behind. This time Debby could see him all too clearly, not a stuffed toy, or battery operated. His eyes blinked, his lips parted and his cheeks blushed pink as he chuckled in a tiny voice.
‘Hello, what’s your name?’
Now she was really going mad, talking to him, did he say Alf or Elf? Before she could say anything else to him he leapt down and used the desk lamp cable like a zip wire. She soon lost sight of him. This was worse than having a mouse in the house, far creepier with no idea where he might pop up next and who did one report infestations, elfinfestations to?
Debby started looking up myths and history of elves, but could not believe she was seriously considering that elves were as real as any other creature on the planet, but where did any myth originate from, a kernel of truth surely. She imagined herself being on an intelligent Radio 4 programme, the first person to discover a live elf. Debby did not see him again that evening and carried on with her normal routine; perhaps she had imagined it all.
When she woke up in the morning and saw Alf Elf sitting on the pillow she stifled a scream. Too close for comfort. Debby shook herself and recalled she had once imagined being a naturalist; she should observe not frighten the poor little chap away, though he did not look scared at all. How did one get hold of a scientist, that one on her favourite radio programme perhaps. But she had a sinking feeling as reality struck. How on earth would she explain to her daughter, she would think she had early onset dementia.
Everything was ready for the grandsons’ visit, breakables put away, the least annoying toys out and she had read the instructions for the junior Christmas decoration creating kit. All that was left was to explain about the elf, would her grandsons be excited, impressed…
‘Bye Mummy’
‘Love you.’
Why did modern parents have to say that every time they went out the door, she was only leaving them for two hours thought Debby.
‘Hamish, Fergus, I have a really big surprise for you today, well not big, very small actually…’
They weren’t listening and had already disappeared to search for the Lego. It wasn’t long before she heard the familiar arguments.
‘I had that piece first.’
’Granny, he pulled my head off.’
Where was the elf, she was suddenly worried for the poor little chap’s safety. She crept along the hall, into the dining room, no sign of Alf, then into her little sun lounge, the only room where Lego was allowed. And there he was, playing Lego with the boys, who were so fascinated they had stopped arguing.
‘Granny, you’ve got a real elf, I’ve never seen a live one’ said Hamish.
‘I told you elves were real’ said Fergus.
‘Be very gentle with him, he’s so small.’
‘Can I take him for Show and Tell?’
‘Oh no, I think school would be far too scary for him, in fact I think we better keep him secret.’
’You don’t have to walk all the way back up, we can get the Noddy Train, but I thought you liked walking?’
John’s parents and his children all looked relieved.
‘We aren’t as young as we were and what with my knee and your father’s hip…’
‘And this bitter wind coming straight off the sea’ added John’s father.
‘Can we still have hot chocolate Daddy?’
‘That’s usually the bribery to get them back up to the café’ said John.
‘I think we all need hot chocolate,’ said his mother ‘I hope that café is still open.’
‘With marshmallows and cream?’ said Johnny Junior.
‘And a cake’ added his sister.
‘We must not spoil your appetites for that delicious dinner your Mummy is cooking for us.’
‘All that lovely sea air has sharpened our appetites’ said their grandfather, wrapping his scarf tighter.
Squeezed in one of the little carriages of the road train everyone brightened up and John’s mother recalled his favourite book.
‘I bought it at a jumble sale, The Runaway Train. I had to read it over and over to your Daddy. The train was meant to take all the office workers up to London on Monday morning, but the train was fed up with the same old journey every day and decided to go to the seaside instead. The passengers didn’t notice what was happening at first, too busy reading their newspapers. That was long before mobile phones were invented and everybody read great big newspapers. Then a few people looked at their watches, glanced out the window and wondered why they were seeing cows in the field instead of Clapham Junction! Soon all the passengers were muttering to each other as the train went faster and faster. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and they passed farms and cottages and hills. Nobody was sure what to do, one man pulled the communication cord with the notice that said emergency use only, but the train did not slow down.
‘Oh that would be fun,’ squealed the children ‘what happened in the end?’
‘Gradually the train slowed down and one of the passengers said Good Heavens, I can see the sea! Soon the train came to a halt in a lovely little station with flower tubs. Everyone got off to see what had happened and a very important and cross looking man marched along the platform to the driver’s cab, but there was no driver. They all stood on the platform scratching their heads and mumbling about getting to the office. Then someone started laughing and pointing to golden sands and the glittering sea… We will never get to work on time so let’s go to the beach instead.
Gradually they all wandered onto the beach and some took off their shoes, rolled up their trousers and started paddling, while others went to buy ice creams and fish and chips.
After a fantastic day, with everyone having fun and agreeing it was much better than going to work, they thought it must be time to go home. At the station the engine had turned itself around on the turntable and was steaming up so they got on board…’
‘Have you still got that book Daddy?’
‘No, that was a long time ago, but maybe that’s why I always wanted to live at the seaside and not work in an office.’
As the road train trundled up towards the café Johnny Junior said ‘Maybe this train is fed up with never going anywhere except back and forth to the beach, maybe it wants to go to London.’
They all laughed as the train drew up by the café and the driver climbed out of his cab to see if anyone needed help getting out. But before John had even opened the door of their carriage, the train started moving again, faster and faster. The last thing the family saw was a surprised look on the driver’s face as he tried to run after the train, but it was going much too fast.
‘Hurrah said,’ Johnny Junior ‘I told you the train was fed up, we’re going on an adventure.’
‘Can’t you do something John.’
‘Don’t worry mother, just a technical hitch, the battery will run down soon and the driver will have called for a mechanic.’
‘When can I have my hot chocolate Daddy?’
They drove down a pleasant avenue with pretty gardens and a few people waved to them. The children waved back. Then the Noddy Train turned right onto a busy road on a steep hill. As the train headed downhill they went faster and faster. Horns were tooting and they heard a siren in the distance. Even little Johnny was beginning to feel scared.
‘And finally tonight police are still searching for a seaside road train, known locally as the Noddy Train and apparently hijacked from a local beauty spot. Our reporter spoke to the shocked driver.’
‘I had just alighted from the train to help a disabled passenger disembark when it started moving. I had left the brakes on, it was on level ground and nobody had got into my cab. I tried to get back to my cab, but it was going much faster than it is capable of. None of this makes sense. Not a single passenger had managed to alight.’
‘Can you reassure family and friends that the passengers will be safe?’
‘No.’
‘Hmm, back to the newsroom to see if there is any update.’
‘The last sighting was junction 67 of the motorway an hour ago. Police are sure there will be drivers who have captured images on their dash cams. In the meantime there is a helpline if you are worried about relatives who may be on board.’
Lottie thought she must have misheard. She was sitting in the strange but cosy flat that was home to Tilly and her new husband, Wesley the young vicar.
Wesley continued ‘Yes, that’s the family story. Callum came home from university for the holidays, or at least it wasn’t his home as his parents had moved, upsized to a cottage with a long garden. Gardening was going to be their retirement project. Various relatives had gathered to see the new home, but it was Callum who was first to venture into the impenetrable overgrowth. It wasn’t called rewilding back then. Aunty Ruth, Callum’s cousin, was there, well she wasn’t an aunty then, a bit of a wild child, called in to say farewell before going off on her travels. She thought Callum a very studious serious chap, that’s why she was so surprised when he returned to the house with lots of scratches and an angry cat in his arms exclaiming ‘There are fairies at the bottom of the garden.’
He claimed he had caught the cat just in time, but the fairies could be in danger and must be protected in the interests of science.
‘Well’ said Lottie ‘he did have a science degree, but he never mentioned fairies. But then he never mentioned his family either.’
Charlotte paused with her fingers above the keyboard, then scrolled back to see if she had given Callum any family. Hmm not many family was different from not any family. Were his parents dead when Lottie met him? When did she meet him? He was the love of her life so they were probably young…. Perhaps this vicar chap could fill in some gaps for Lottie.
‘Wesley, do fill in a few gaps for me’ said Lottie ‘Callum was an only child?’
‘Yes, unusual for our family, they made sure he had a good education and had high hopes for him.’
‘And he is, was very successful in his career, but not arrogant, happy to support my career.’
‘But his parents did not get to share that success?’ mused Tilly ‘or have gran…’ she blushed and stuttered.
‘It’s okay,’ said Lottie ‘neither of us wanted children, we were happy as we were with each other and as his parents were supposedly dead there was no pressure.’
‘Were they dead?’ said Tilly, obviously enjoying this new family mystery.
‘Well they are now’ laughed Wesley ‘think they had him late in life, but I have no idea when they died.’
‘So when do we get to the part of the story that explains why Callum was estranged from his family. Is estranged too strong a word, lots of cousins don’t keep in touch.’
‘He was upset that nobody believed him, I mean if you really saw fairies it would be amazing. Alas no smart phones then, imagine if he had taken photos, put them on Facebook… anyway the first problem was that the cat was his parents’ new rescue cat, a spiteful creature apparently, but they adored him and Callum took it straight back to the rescue centre.’
‘But surely a cat couldn’t cause a family rift?’
‘Worse was to come. Callum found plenty of wood, wire netting etc in an old shed and erected a fence, creating a fairy sanctuary. He pleaded with his parents not to touch the bottom of the garden while he worked out how to set up observation, David Attenborough style and what experts he could find who would believe him.’
‘I can’t imagine that would be easy’ said Tilly. ‘I never thought about fairies seriously before, but how would they survive with all the dangers from foxes and human boots, it doesn’t bear thinking of.’
‘I agree’ said Lottie. ‘Callum did like butterflies and insects, would never kill a spider and it was bees that became his main work before it was fashionable to worry about bees.’
‘Oh how lovely,’ said Tilly ‘perhaps he was always hoping he would see fairies again.’
‘That is a nice thought, but why didn’t he tell me, I would not have laughed.’
‘I’m not sure I should tell you two ladies the rest of the story, you may find it disturbing as they say on the news.’
‘You have to tell us now’ said Tilly.
‘Callum was due to go off on a uni. expedition to Scotland or wherever, and he left with nobody believing a word he said, thought he was having them on, trying to be clever just because he had made it to university. When he returned a week later his parents had rotovated the whole garden ready for their vegetable beds and fruit trees.’
‘Oh no’ cried Tilly.
‘But then what happened?’ said Lottie.
‘I think he went back to carry on with his studies and no one heard from him again.’
‘He had Cousin Ruth’s address, so surely he had some notion he would get in touch one day.’
‘I’m sure he did’ said Tilly ‘and don’t you worry about what the rest of the family say this afternoon.’
Lottie’s heart sank, she just wanted to stay with Tilly and Wesley in their cosy nook.
‘Oh dear, what’s happening this afternoon?’
‘Round to Aunty Ruth’s to meet the rest of the family.’
‘But I thought I met them at dinner.’
‘Some of them.’
Lottie hoped to delay venturing out.
‘Tell me about this place, why is it called The Transept’.
‘De-consecrated church that was going to be sub divided into flats, but they only got ours in the east transept finished before lockdown and the builders going into liquidation. So we did some reclaiming and hold relaxed services in the nave, unofficially; the bishop is not quite sure what to do with us. You can come to messy church tomorrow, the rest of the family will be there.’
Lottie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, but after having writer’s block when Callum died she began to feel a romantic novel coming on, a novel about a renegade vicar…
‘I should tell you I don’t go to church Wesley.’
‘That’s okay, I don’t read your novels, romance not really my thing. But anyone can come to our services.’
Charlotte paused, that was enough writing for today. How on earth had fairies got into the story, oh yes, she was going to the offbeat writers group down by the river and their topic was fairies at the bottom of the garden.
Florella was bored, very bored. Shopping was not the way to spend a sunny summer day. She was nine, too old to be stuck with her mother in the freezer aisle. Her mother was not even shopping, just gossiping with her friend. They could never go round the supermarket without meeting someone they knew, but suddenly an escape idea presented itself. Her mother would not even notice if she walked out of the shop.
Outside the sun was warm on her face and Florella’s arms began to thaw out after the cold of the freezer aisle. Her feet took on a direction of their own and propelled her down the road, down the lane and towards the park by the river. But as she approached, Florella thought she must have gone the wrong way. This was not the park. Caravans were parked beneath shady trees, there were patches of wonderful bright green grass where the sun reached. It was magical, where was she? The strange place, the adventure of really running away, made her brave enough to explore.
The grass was still wet after yesterday’s rain, but she did not care if she got her feet wet. Florella sauntered amongst the caravans. All the doors were closed except one. She wasn’t quite brave enough to look inside, but didn’t need to as a girl suddenly popped out.
‘Hello, what are you doing here girl, you don’t belong to the circus.’
‘Circus, what circus?’
‘You can’t have missed our big top!’
‘I was looking for the park and I found myself here.’
The girl put her finger to her lip and beckoned Florella to follow. Sure enough, beyond the trees and caravans was an enormous tent. The girl led Florella to a small flap.
‘We’re not allowed in, they’re practising, one tiny peep.’
Florella looked at the jumble of people inside doing acrobatics, rolling over barrels and swinging on ropes. She was entranced, but felt a tight grip on her arm and found herself being dragged away. Her disappointment was brief as she found herself propelled into the girl’s caravan.
‘What’s your name girl and what were you up to sneaking round?’
‘Ella and I’ve run away.’
‘Oh so have me and my Dad, maybe you could join the circus, we’re leaving in three days, on the road again. Will you be my friend, I never have a chance to make friends as we have to keep moving, but it’s a good way to make sure no one finds us.’
‘What is your name and how old are you?’
‘I’m Magdalena, nine years old.’
Magdalena’s life sounded far more exciting than Florella’s, even the other girl’s name was exotic.
‘Same age as me. Actually my full name is Florella because I was adopted after they found me in a flower meadow,’
Florella did not usually tell lies, but then she didn’t usually run away to join a circus. The caravan was full of colourful costumes and all sorts of strange objects, hoops, skittles, trumpets…
‘Do you perform in the circus?’
‘Not yet, I have to learn, Dad’s going to teach me.’
Magdalena started showing Florella all the things that were called props and told her about clowns and girls standing three people high in a pyramid. Florella felt in a dream until voices shouting broke the spell.
‘Ella, Ella are you here, Florella are you here, your mother’s looking for you.’
Florella felt sick, who was looking for her, how had they found her? She stood up in panic, but Magdalena pushed her back down on a pile of costumes and pulled the door shut.
‘Shsh…they must not find us.’
No sooner had she spoken than the door was wrenched open and a man burst in. He had the angriest expression she had ever seen on a grown up’s face as he turned from Florella to Magdalena.
‘What the hell is going on Mags?’
‘Dad, it’s okay, she’s my friend.’
‘What have I told you about strangers, now she’s got the police onto us.’
Florella was really scared now, she hadn’t called the police and why was he so worried. The last she saw of her new friend was her being hauled out of the caravan by a pair of big tattooed arms. Trembling she peered out the door, but Magdalena and her father seemed to have vanished into thin air.
The voices were getting louder, men’s and women’s voices.
‘Florella Fenton are you okay, Ella call out if you’re here. No one’s cross with you. Over here Sarge, caravan.’
Ella tried to shut herself behind the caravan door, but a large hand grabbed it.
‘It’s okay, what’s your name?’
Florella thought she probably should not lie to a policeman, nor did she want to get her new friend in trouble, she must think quickly.
‘Oh that’s a nice dog.’
‘He’s a clever dog, he found you quickly.’
‘I was not lost, I just came to have a look at the circus.’
‘That’s okay then, but you must tell me your name.’
‘Ella… Florella Fenton.’
‘Good girl, now did you meet anyone from the circus?’
‘No, NO.. I’m sorry I looked in someone’s caravan, will they be cross?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain. Your mother will be here in a moment.’
Florella dared to look up and saw a group of annoyed looking people in strange costumes, they obviously were cross. A woman with bright red lipstick and a strange hairstyle stepped forward.
‘We don’t want trouble, we never seen her before, what’s she saying?’
‘Ella, have you met any of these people?’
Florella felt she had a brief chance before her mother arrived and no doubt she would be cross and spoil everything.
‘No, I’m sorry I trespassed, but can I join your circus?’
‘Do you think you might be a bit young to leave home, it’s not an easy life and you would have to help put up the tent.’
Ella got the impression the other circus people were laughing at her and so were the police officers now gathered. Red lipstick woman came closer and stood in front of the policeman.
‘Free tickets for the girl and her family and your officers and you leave us in peace; every year we come and never had trouble.’
Florella thought it might be a good idea to see a circus in action before joining it and as she saw her mother approaching and tried to interpret the expression on her mother’s face, she hoped the free tickets would placate her.
Rory never tired of asking the same questions to delay bed time.
‘The adoption society said to us
Well Mr and Mrs Asimov, you will be pleased to hear you have been selected for the special programme. You should be welcoming a new family member very shortly. We have several potential sons who will thrive in your family. The next step is to visit Future Family Foundation on our open day next week.‘
‘Were you excited Mummy, was Daddy excited?’
‘We certainly were, but nervous as we did not know what the place would be like. But as soon as we walked in the door you came rolling up to us and said ‘Hello Mummy and Daddy’ and our hearts melted.’
‘But hearts can’t melt, if they did you wouldn’t work anymore.’
‘That’s just a saying Darling. We did not bother to meet the others, we just asked if we could have you.’
‘Did you take me home then?’
‘No, we had to have some sessions with your foster parents, getting to know you, do you remember that?’
’No, I just remember being in this house.’
‘Now it really is bed time, it’s getting late.’
‘Are you glad you got me.’
‘Of course, you made our family complete.’
‘Do you love me more than Chloe and Eliza?’
‘We love you all the same. Now, it’s time to say goodnight.’
‘Are you and Daddy going to die one day?’
‘Yes, but not for a long long time.’
‘Are Chloe and Eliza going to die one day?’
‘Yes, but not for an even longer time.’
‘Am I going to die one day?’
‘No Darling, you’re special.’
‘But who will look after me if you die?’
‘Chloe and Eliza and one day their husbands and their children, but you don’t need to think about that for years and years, now its time you were plugged in.’
‘Mummyyy… Chloe said she and Eliza are going to switch me off when you are dead.’
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 