A Christmas charm

Ripping paper off gifts is the highlight of my Christmas. Hearing Betsy squeal in delight as she opened her new Barbie doll my heart filled.  I’m happy and I can see that Paul’s happy too.  Just the three of us this year, no hassle from family and friends, we can spend the day relaxing.

Watching Paul unwrap his new sweatshirt and art books, he nodded and proceeded to check the pictures. Passing me a small square box I was prepared to hear the words I had wanted to hear for so long, but this didn’t happen. He stared at me smiling as I opened the box, looking at the charm, a silver cat with diamonds for eyes, looking back at me, my stomach sank and I held back my tears.

“Em, it’s for your bracelet, it’s a charm, I got it from that strange shop that you love.”

“From Mrs Zintalis?”

“Yes, her, what’s wrong.”

“I’m intrigued by it, but haven’t you heard the rumours? Putting the charm on the table, I picked up Betsy and held her close.

“Why what’s wrong?”

“Paul, people say she’s a witch, is that charm safe?”

“Em, don’t be daft.  The charm might have a history as I thought her goods were usually second-hand so more character and possibly more valuable.”

“I’m sure its valuable but I’m scared of it turning me a funny colour or cursing me”.

Grabbing my tablet, I asked Google for Mrs Zintalis, whilst Paul watched me anxiously.  Just a normal little back street shop.

“Maybe Em, you shouldn’t be worrying over daft chatter”.

Two weeks later

The day that the Christmas tree comes down I always feel a little sad.  Removing the tinsel and baubles and placing them with the tree back up in the loft, it really is the end of the festive season.  I was in the loft when a jolting pain when through my wrist. Yelping I dropped the tree, and looked at my wrist. What did this mean? The silver on the charm bracelet was warm and the cat had turned a strange tinge of green.

It was then that the loft disappeared from around me and I saw a busy street.  Paul was walking towards his office, I guess walking back from the cafe where he often has his dinner.  As I watched I heard a screech of brakes as Paul stepped into the road. As if playing in slow motion, I saw his body hurled into the air and then crash down on the bonnet of a blue Land Rover. Pulling my phone from my trouser pocket I dialled Paul’s number, as he answered my heart lurched

“Hi, where are you?”

“Bucks Cafe, why? “

“Stay where you are, Betsy is with my mum, I’ll be fifteen minutes, please go nowhere.”

“I need to get back to the office.”

“Not today you don’t.  Order more tea, I’ll be there soon”.

Hanging up on him, the bracelet remained warm. Surely, I wasn’t going mad here. Climbing down from the loft, I questioned what I’d seen.  I’m just a normal person with romance in my heart wanting to be with the man I love.  Why would I have seen this message? For a long time, I have been wary of Mrs Zintalis and her curious shop.

A rescue

Running out of the house, I climb into my old battered Citroen, all the way looking out for a blue Land-Rover. Approaching North Street where I saw the incident I slowed down.  Seeing the family on the pavement I observed the girl with a pink shining ribbon in her blonde hair.

Thinking again about the cat charm I finally reached the cafe and parked the car.  As I walked in, Paul looked up at me and waved. Relief washed over me, there he was safe and well.  I ordered myself a mug of tea before sitting down opposite him.

Reaching out for my hand he asked,

“What’s happened?  Why can’t I leave?

“It’s the cat charm, I think I had a premonition.  You were hit by someone in a blue Land Rover.  I think you died”.

“Don’t be ridiculous, “ he grabbed my hand and smiled.

“I’m not, the bracelet was warm and the cat turned a green tinge.”

Bad news

I jumped as my mobile rang loudly. Reaching for it I saw mum flash across the screen. Answering it I was not prepared for what she had to say and I could hear her crying.

“Em, there’s been an accident.“   I could feel myself going cold, this was my fault. “It’s Libby Reynolds, Em, Joan phoned, she was run over today and killed.”

“Mum, do you happen to know what the vehicle was?”

“Land Rover, why?”

I then had a thought, feeling sick I asked,

“Did she have her family with her?” I thought of her daughter Tess and the girl I had seen this morning with the hair ribbon.

“Yes, she did, they were all at the scene.  Oh Em, little Tess is so distressed, Joan was with them, she says that she’s winding her pink ribbon round and around her arm.”

“Mum I’m just with Paul, I’ll be back soon”.

A blessing or a curse?

So, what was this charm? Was it a blessing or a curse? Thanks to me Paul was alive but a woman was dead and a child had lost her mum.

“I think we need to talk to Mrs Zintalis. We need to know more about this charm and the premonitions.  I can’t keep saving people and killing others.”

“Okay, work can wait, we need to check out that shop.”

“What about mum and Betsy?”

“They are okay, upset but okay, come on we need to know more about what we are involved in here.  I’m glad to be alive but we need to know why this is happening  to you”.

Finishing my tea, I put down my mug.

“Come on then, let’s go.”

Written for Blog Battle – Charm

For more see, Miniature dancing men and a mystery

Miniature men

As my daughter Betty sat watching the other children playing, my thoughts were on the night before.  My strange but true story had made me question my sanity. The words of the dancing men will haunt me. Could a miniature figure really influence so much? Was it just superstition?

The event happened two nights ago, we were settling in for the night.  Mike had made steaming hot chocolate and was going through his usual routine of stirring it five times to the right and then two to the left.  He had many strange quirks and this one fascinated me.  As I sat at the high kitchen bar watching him, I noticed the miniature dancing men on a nearby shelf.  As Mike talked, another voice raised above it, one I had never heard before.

“Amy, save the blonde girl, save her,” I jumped.

“Mike did you hear that? The miniature men talked”.

“Amy the only voice I heard was my own, here love, your hot chocolate”.

I bought the wooden men from a small charity shop on Brighton High Street.  As I picked them up the sales assistant said,

“You don’t want them, their previous owner appeared terrified when she dropped them off.”

I should have left them but I was curious, the miniature men looked harmless; just happy dancing figures.

“I’ll buy them, how much?”

“Ten pounds fifty pence.”

Reaching into my purse I paid her and watched as she put them in a carrier bag.  How could inanimate figures cause such distress?

I was fine with my purchase until today.

The missing girl

Tonight watching the news I was shocked by the headline of a missing girl –  blonde Caroline, nine years old. Am I supposed to save her? How?  Looking at the miniature men they stare back at me smiling.  This is too much of a coincidence, I need to find her. Where do you start looking for a missing child? Mike doesn’t believe my supposed destiny here. After all, why would an inanimate figure talk to me?

As a housewife a mission like this is extraordinary. I know I heard them but how could I?  I guess its not for me to question, I just need to find her. Reading through Google there is nothing obvious as to what might have happened. I needed to talk to the miniature men again, if they will talk again.

A Visitor

Interrupted by the ringing door bell, my thoughts were distracted.  Pushing myself out of my comfortable arm chair I wondered who it was this late in the evening.  Opening the door I was shocked to see someone I hadn’t seen in years.  Since my parents divorce many years ago I hadn’t seen or spoken to my sister.  Here on my doorstep was an older version of me.

“Hello Amy, we have a problem.” Haven’t seen her in years and she arrives with trouble.

“Oh, what problem?”

“Can I come in?”  motioning her in, I stepped back as she walked past me. Not waiting to be offered a seat, she sat in my chair, her eyes were flittering around the room.

“Where are they?”

“Where are what?”

“The miniature dancing men, I gave them to the charity shop as I couldn’t burn them.  You were then stupid enough to buy them, they’re a curse.”

“How do you mean?” I thought of my quest.

“Amy, they give impossible tasks.  Weeks ago they told me to look for a small boy”.

I thought of a recent newspaper article of a small child found dead.

“Jane, where did you buy them from?”

Rosemary

“I didn’t buy them, I inherited them. My step mother died and they were in her house.  Her death was not suspicious, heart attack, but having heard those men talk I am wondering if she was supposed to be following their instructions too.  Oh, Amy a small boy is dead because I didn’t believe I needed to do as those men said.”

“Have you seen the news report about the missing girl, Caroline?”

Shaking, Jane said, “Have they spoken again? There’s a serial killer isn’t there?

“They told me to find the blonde girl.  Caroline is blonde and I don’t know where to start looking. By the sounds of it those men are going to continue sending us to find children until their captors are found. So, why our family?”

“My stepmother Rosemary dabbled in the occult.  The men are somehow connected to her, maybe there’s some foresight happening, but they are made of wood.  I know nothing of the occult but do know the curse of causing pain to someone by putting pins in a doll.”

“This is serious,”  feeling scared, we had to do something here.  How it’s all connected we might never know, but it appeared our family had been given an awesome task.

“Jane, I haven’t seen you in years and obviously never knew Rosemary, but thanks for finding me.  Till now I had questioned whether I did hear them speak and was alone.  Now we have each other, there must be some sort of destiny at play here.”

A week later

Following different leads and asking questions we had been unsuccessful, till last night.  A dream that spoke to me of a long tunnel with a dark room with the dancing miniature men. Then a scream and one word, Victoria. Waking with a jolt I knew where to look.  Grabbing my phone I dialled Jane, waiting impatiently as it rang.

“Amy its 3am, what do you want?”

“We need to get to Victoria Tube Station now, trust me the girl is there.”

“I’ll pick you up, see you soon.”

The traffic was clear from Brighton to London and we made good time.  Running into the station I shouted to the first worker I saw.

“Do you have meeting rooms unused underground?”

“Not meeting rooms mam but there are rooms, not open to the public.”

“Please send someone to check them out urgently.”

“Why?” he was suspicious. “I can’t send someone down.”

“You will, and I’m phoning the police, this is urgent.”

I watched him talk on his radio as I dialled 999.  Not sure if I would be believed, I reported it as an emergency at Victoria Tube station.

An hour later

As we sat yawning and struggling to stay awake, drinking tea, we watched with relief as railway workers and the police appeared with a small dirty child and a man in handcuffs.  I couldn’t see blonde hair but this had to be her. I wondered who the miniature men would send me to find next.

“Madam, you were right, this is the missing child that the police couldn’t find, how did you know she was here?”

I looked at Jane and smiled. “Miniature wooden men and a dream.”

He looked at me, “ Sorry you are not making sense.”

“Yes, sir, I know, you’d better sit down.”

Written for Blog Battle – Miniature

For more see An exotic cocktail and a family

Sarah

She sat staring into her exotic cocktail of Pimms, cola and cold tea.  Lighting another calming cigarette, her life was a mess. What next? She had watched James ripped away from her, destined for foster care.  Looking at the pile of white pills in front of her, taking them would solve her problems. Reaching for the roll of toilet roll next to her, she wiped the string of snot from her nose before mopping her soaking wet face with the back of her hand.

Was taking her life, really the answer? James was five, he had his whole life ahead of him, he didn’t need her. 

As her mobile vibrated, she ignored it.  Not wanting to talk to anybody her sisters name flashed across the screen. She was the last person that deserved her time. Picking up a handful of tablets, this was it. Chucking them in her mouth she grabbed her exotic drink and drank.

Debbie

Our family situation had always been dysfunctional.  Both parents had always worked long hours.  We had come home from school and typically let ourselves in the back door.  Cereal for breakfast and dinner, Jam sandwiches for lunch.  My sister and I are very different.  I always thought we were both survivors, now I’m not so sure. Sarah was attending college studying business and then her life took a new direction.

Sinking into debt, Sarah had been responsible for a series of robberies.  Over the last two years, she had been in and out of police station cells.  Social services had decided my nephew James was not safe in her care.  I was asked to act as a guardian for him but I have no desires to ever be a parent.  I work long hours and unlike our parents I’m not raising a child on jam, bread, cereal, milk and loneliness. Sarah had been angry with me, but a loving foster family is surely the best place for him.

As I arrived at my office, my secretary welcomed me.

“Debbie, a Mrs Haynes has been phoning for you.”

“Mrs Haynes?”

“Here’s her number, and your 10.00 appointment is already here.”

The phone call

It was only 9.30, they were early.   Looking at Lorraine’s scribble I wondered who Mrs Haynes was. Picking up my desk phone, I dialled her number.

“Hello Carol Haynes, Social Services”.

“Hi, this is Debbie Griffiths.”

“Hello, we are needing to talk to you about your nephew James Griffith’s.  Could you please come to the office to see us.”

What had happened now? Should I talk to Sarah?

“Err, when should I come in?”

“Please come as soon as you can”.

“I will be there around 1.00 is that okay?”

I sat back in my chair, was James alright?

Picking up the phone again I wanted to hear Sarah’s voice. I could feel my heart sink as it went to voicemail.  Would we ever be friends again?

Sarah

As Henry arrived downstairs, he hadn’t expected to find his lodger slumped over the kitchen table.  Her exotic cocktail mix pooling on the table next to her. Dialling 999, he felt for her pulse.  Swearing out loud, she was already dead.

Grabbing Sarah’s phone, he searched for Debbie.

Debbie

Sitting with a box of tissues in the social services waiting room my head was pounding.  Phoning Henry Lee back that morning, I hadn’t expected such terrible news.  With no chance of Sarah having James back. Our parents were certainly not having him.  How do you juggle a full-time job as a Solicitor and a small boy?  Surely adoption was the best option.

“Miss Griffiths?”

“Yes, that’s me”, I sniffed.

“Thank you for coming in, we have a problem”.

Sat in the office I stared at the blank yellow walls and then watched Mrs Haynes make me a coffee from her machine.  Placing the cup in front of me, she said,

“I’m sorry to hear about your sister and thank you for coming in in such difficult circumstances.”

Her words felt empty. She seemed more bothered in business than happy families.

“So, what’s happened?”

An upset child

“Today James was upset over breakfast and attacked another child with a knife. The kids are okay but his foster parents are refusing to keep him.  It would mean taking him back into the care services again, more upheaval for him.  What would you like to do?  You are his only relative that might be appropriate to have him.”

James obviously wasn’t happy, but how could I raise a child.  I had never been fun Auntie Debbie.

“I don’t know how to look after a child.”

“Neither does any new mother.  You are an intelligent woman and the closest James has to his mum.  You must seriously consider this.  Please think about it, it’s a big decision but this could be one of the best decisions you ever make.  Children are not easy but they are rewarding”.

Attacking a child with a knife, could I really be a good mum to him?

“Mrs Haynes I will give this some thought and get back to you”.

I thought of my next exotic holiday, having James will change my life.  Did I really have a choice?  If I don’t adopt him I could lose him.  I had lost Sarah it was time to rethink my life.

Today

Lying on my exotic Turkish beach, I watched the beautiful little boy laughing building sand castles.  Life had changed dramatically but being a single parent was more fulfilling then I ever imagined. I missed Sarah dearly and I still felt guilty for not being there when she was depressed enough to take her own life.

We don’t know what our futures hold, but some opportunities are too special to pass by.  I was no longer alone, I had my nephew, now son James, and unlike our parents I knew I was doing a good job.

Written for Blog battle – Exotic

.For more see Blog Battle – Conceal