Mistake - Episode Five

1

Mr Herring awoke to find himself tied to a chair in an unknown kitchen. He didn't even try to move, he knew there was no point.

"Where am I?" He asked.

“Ah, you’re finally awake” replied Christopher who was sitting opposite.

“What do you want from me? I won’t tell you any more.”

“Oh I believe you. But madam here tells me we don’t need you to speak any more.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means” butted in Barbara as she joined them at the table with a deliciously sweet smelling tea. “That if you won’t speak, then you’re hardly much use to us.”

Barbara lifted the hot mug up to her mouth as though about to sip it.

“What do you mean no use, are you going to let me go?”

“Don’t be silly, we couldn’t possibly do that” She turned to Christopher. “Could we?”

“He knows our names.” added Christopher.

“I don’t, I swear. I never heard them.”

“Do you hear that Barbara, he doesn’t know our names, maybe we can let him go after all?”

“I guess you're right Chris” Barbara replied sadly. “Oh wait, damn aren’t we silly.”

“We are, aren’t we.”

Both Barbara and Christopher turned to look at the man and spoke in unison.

“We told him our names.”

“Oh God” the man cried. His body was visibly shaking.

“You’ve got a last request you know.” said Christopher.

Barbara said nothing. She still held the mug inches from her lips but still hadn’t sipped. Instead she inhaled the aroma that engulfed the air around it and let out a moan of pleasure.

“My god I love this tea, I love to savour every moment.”

Mr Herring was watching Barbara’s little ritual. Christopher could see the poor man hadn’t had a decent cup of tea in years. His eyes couldn’t hide that his mind was even now mentally drinking it.

“Please” the man finally spoke.

“Yes?” Barbara asked.

“If you must end me I understand.” He said. “What that family have done to you, I wouldn’t blame you. But please, I may be bad and I may be crazy, but I’m still English. Let me go out with some kind of dignity. ”

The man was literally drooling like one of Pavlov’s dogs.

“What... you mean this?” Barbara said looking down at mug. “Is that all you want for your last request?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, but I’m not untying you, Christopher can hold it.” Barbara passed the mug to Christopher who helped the man with his final drink.

After the first mouthful Mr Herring couldn’t help but smile.

“This really is the most beautiful tea I’ve ever tasted.”

“It is that.”

“Almost worth dying for” he said before gulping the rest of the drink down.

“You’re supposed to drink it slowly, enjoy it. You’ll never taste it again.” said Barbara almost rather crossly.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll remember that forever.”

“You won’t.”

“Well at least until I die.”

“I’m afraid you won’t even remember drinking it in about 3 minutes.”

“Poison?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. But yes you’re right, there’s something in the tea.” Barbara told him almost gleefully. “First the drink will make you drop off asleep. The second thing it will do is erase any mention of it from your mind and anything associated with it. So you’ll never remember anything that has happened.”

“What?”

“Now, this is the beautiful bit. If I whisper into your sleeping ear at exactly the right moment, I can, on a simple level, get you to do things I want you to do.” Barbara obviously loved explaining to people who drunk the tea, exactly was going to happen to them.

Now Christopher’s ears plucked up.

“You can hypnotise and control people?” he asked.

“Nothing so sinister. I can nudge people in the direction I want them to go in, that’s all.” Barbara explained. “In this case all I have to do is say three words into this man’s ears.”

“Three words?”

“Go to Victor” Barbara smiled. “Then when he awakens he’ll have what he feels is a completely natural urge to go to Victor’s house.”

“Genius” said Christopher.

“Witch” said Mr Herring.

“Thank you both, but Betty will have to take the credit for that. She blends the leaves, I just whisper the words.”

Mr Herring’s eyelids were starting to get heavy, but it was obvious he was trying to fight it.

“Not long now Mr.” said Barbara softly, and in that moment Mr Herring was asleep.

“Quick Christopher, get everything ready I have to time this just so.”

“What are we going to do?”

“After I’ve prepared him we need to quickly drop him back at the old house, then wait. As soon as he wakes up, he should hopefully head straight to Victor’s house.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Stop being so negative boy, anyway there’s only one way to find out.”

2

Back in the bowels of the house, Betty finally left Peter and began her exploration of the unknown building. She followed the stone stairway which worked its way up the left hand wall of the basement. The door at the top was not locked, which seemed a little strange. Slowly, ever so slowly and ever so quietly, Betty turned the latch and pushed against the door. She held her breath, dreading the squeak the hinges might produce. Her heart beat loud in her ear. Even if the door made no noise, they’d certainly hear that drum beat.

To begin with the sturdy door glided in silence, Betty was thankful they must have kept up with their maintenance. Strange thing to be thankful for but you have to take what you can get when you’ve just spent the last goodness knows how many hours or days locked in a box.

However in maybe one of Bettys more over confident moments she pushed the door quicker and harder. A world of complete silence was than shattered by the loudest and deepest and longest squeak Betty had thought had ever existed. The feeling Betty felt was surprisingly close to the reaction of hearing a spade scrapping particles of sand at the bottom of a sand pit or biting into the side of a polystyrene cup, It made her clench her teeth and close her eyes tightly.

Maybe I’ll be getting back into a coffin sooner than I had hoped, she thought.

She stayed perfectly still for quite a while, trying to listen out for any signs of life. Maybe footsteps running towards the loud noise she had made. or voices of the captures, shouting to each other to get the escaping culprit. But she could hear no one, except maybe even now an echo of that awful sound she had created. Or was that just in her head?

The hallway she now stood in was extremely well furnished and quite expensive looking. The walls were connected panels of deep coloured woods, the same woods that most of what she saw was made out of. Everything else was red including the curtains and the carpet beneath Betty’s feet.

A grand staircase unwound at the end of the hallway, Wide at the bottom then narrowing and gracefully twirling up to the floor above. It seemed very inviting to Betty, as though it were opening out its arms, beckoning her towards it, promising her secrets and exploration high above.

Betty could never give in to such promises and so headed straight for the foot of the staircase. However when she was about to place her foot on the first step she finally heard something. It was music.

It wasn’t very loud and it wasn’t coming from upstairs. It seemed to becoming from a door to the side of the staircase, not that far away from her.

The music sounded old fashioned, whimsical. It reminded Betty of the seaside, of children watching Punch and Judy and people with painted faces. Of fairground rides, balloon sellers and most importantly ice cream.

Betty hadn’t thought about those sorts of things for a long time, it inadvertently took all the fear out of her and plastered a huge grin where a wibbly bottom lip had previously been.

It turned out not to be another room, but frustratingly another hallway. Though the music was definitely coming from here, she could see no musical devices. Betty assumed then that the music was coming from speakers hidden in the wall, what other explanation could there be. But then that begged the question, why would anyone have that kind of music playing only in a hallway. Who was it for, was it for her? That idea made Betty shudder a bit.

Betty looked further up the corridor and then froze. She was sure there was someone sitting in a chair near the other end. Had they been there all along?

3

The unmistakable blue and white hearse pulled away from the dilapidated building with a sense of urgency. Where ever the driver wanted to go it must have been of some significance.

This was the sign the two observers from afar were hoping for. It not only meant that Betty’s beautiful tea leaves had done their job but also that Barbara’s timing and choice of words were as impeccable as always.

The Land Rover followed slowly from afar, the sense of déjà vu was not lost on the driver or her passenger. However this time was different, this time Mr Red Herring had turned into Mr Red Handed and instead of leading them up the garden path, this time he would lead them straight to the house, Victor’s house.

The hearse as it transpired didn’t actually drive that far in the end, literally no more than two turnings and he stopped at a huge gateway. Beyond the gateway and huge wall it separated, Barbara could just make the roof of a colossal building.

“My goodness it’s a manor.” Barbara observed out loud.

“More like a mansion” corrected Christopher.

“So that’s Victor’s house then?”

“He must have a lot of money.”

“Or somebody else does.”

Suddenly Barbara thought she heard a strange noise, at first she couldn’t work out what it was, then realised, it was something vibrating. She’d heard that before somewhere, but couldn’t remember where. She looked towards Christopher and noticed in the corner of her eye, a red light was flashing on and off in his trouser pocket.

“Chris something’s flashing in your pocket.”

“Oh erm... it’s my mobile, probably just a message.”

“But I thought you didn’t have a phone.” Barbara thought back to when he had pinched hers to phone the police.

“Oh no I do, I left it in the car.” He said. “I picked it up when we went back to the cottage.”

Christopher pulled the mobile out his pocket and checked the message.

“Anything interesting” Barbara asked.

Christopher was quiet for a moment, while he read whatever the message said. Then he tapped a few buttons at quite a considerable speed, before returning the handset back to his pocket.

“Oh sorry. I’m a man, can’t multitask” Christopher finally said. “You were saying?”

“Just being nosey. But is it really the time and the place to be texting?”

“Sorry, it’s just some friends asking how Peter and I are. Obviously I haven’t told them he’s been kidnapped. It’s nearly over now. I doubt anyone will need to know.”

“Crikey that’s a positive attitude for you, are you finally learning boy?”

Barbara turned back to the hearse that was still waiting patiently outside the gate. There was a strange mechanical noise coming from the gates, which meant the wait was obviously now over. They watched as the huge motorised gates slowly opened. The hearse entered through before they were even fully opened which said a lot for the ridiculous width of the entrance.

“You know if we’re quick enough we can probably make it.” Barbara said as she hurriedly unfastened her belt, grabbed her bag, slung open the door and jumped out.

“But it’s right across the other side of the street, we’ll never make it.”

“You won’t if you don’t hurry up.” Barbara called out behind her as she hurried across the road.

In Christopher’s haste to catch up, he couldn’t even manage the simple thing of undoing his belt. Either there was something wrong with the seatbelt or his hands had gone silly. When he calmed down for a minute, he realised it was his hands, or at least his mind. He calmly unfastened it then climbed down out the car. Barbara was almost at the gates, they were already on their return journey to meet in the middle once more.

“Come on” shouted Barbara.

“What about the Land Rover?”

“It’ll be fine, no one will notice it.”

Christopher ran as fast as he could, Barbara was already on the other side, standing with her hands on her hips. He just had to push himself a little harder, had to go that little bit faster.

The gates were almost shut, if Christopher was going to pull anything out of the bag, now would be the time. In the final second he thought maybe if he jumped forward he could slip through the gap like an action hero?

So that’s what Christopher decided to do, he bent his knees and leaped forward trying to make himself as skinny as possible, if that was possible. He felt skinnier in his head anyway.

To Christopher his forward flight felt like he was charging through water. It seemed like time, though not exactly slowing down, stretched itself out much longer than it should. It seemed to take an age before Christopher’s head had safely passed beyond the archway, but then it kept going. Christopher couldn’t believe it, he did a stupid last second move and might actually come through unscathed and with dignity intact. He might have even looked a little cool, again if such a term was even allowed nowadays.

Now finally and safely on the floor, Christopher allowed himself a second to catch his breath. Which was when he realised Barbara had been screaming at him. What was she saying?

“For goodness sake Chris, your legs.”

Christopher pulled his legs towards his body. His left thankfully made it through, his right on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. In the second he had to pull his leg free, he managed to get past his knee and shin, all except his foot. There was a crunch as each side of the gate ignored said foot and continued its path to unison.

That’s the dignity gone then, thought Christopher. And I guess more importantly, my foot.

4

“Hello?” Betty called out, well there was no point hiding now, they would definitely have seen her. Whoever the person was they didn’t answer. Betty found this annoying so she strode right up to the ignoring sitting man to confront him.

“I said hello.” She said crossly.

The man still didn’t reply and now Betty could see why. He was smiling, but apart from that he was dead, and that wasn’t even the strangest bit. His skin seemed odd, it sparkled slightly in the light like it was partially glass or something. Betty touched his face, no it wasn’t glass it was something else. Some kind of preservative maybe to stop the body rotting, she wasn’t sure without examining it properly, but this was hardly the time or the place.

Next to the corpse sitting in the chair was a closed door and directly opposite was another. Betty chose the one next to the body, though she feared that maybe he was a hint of what was to come on the other side of the door.

Betty hated being right. The body being an omen did not surprise Betty, but the magnitude of what that omen hinted at, well that just knocked her socks off.

The room she entered was a lounge of sorts and there was nothing wrong with that, it’s what was in the lounge that freaked her out. There wasn’t just one or two bodies slumped in chairs like in the hallway, there were at least six of them. And they were far from slumped.

A dead couple sat huddled up on the sofa, a boyfriends arm around his girl, his adoring blank eyes staring down at her. A dead man stood leaning against a wall with an un-light cigarette hanging out his mouth and two children sat cross legged glued to a television that probably never worked.

The final corpse had his back to Betty. He was leaning forward staring out the huge window at the world of the living. Who were probably even now meandering around, none the wiser to the atrocities this house contained. It reminded Betty of a wax works, without the wax. But the way they were positioned it was like they were still alive.

Suddenly it dawned on Betty that maybe not all of these fellows were dead. What if some were just pretending, what if that man at the window suddenly turned his head? What if it was Jacob or someone worse? Well it definitely couldn’t be his huge brother she’d be able to spot that bulk a mile off.

At the other end of the room was another doorway, beyond it, she could make out white walls so guessed it could be a toilet or bath room. Betty wondered if she should even look in there, she would have to walk straight past the window man. And she wasn’t sure she was up to it. Also the prospect of seeing a dead person on the toilet or taking a shower was a step to far for even her eyes, so she left her curiosity at the door and returned to the hallway.

Now there was only the door opposite to try and Betty didn’t want to hang around in this house any longer then need be so she didn’t falter, she opened the door and went straight in.

The room beyond was in complete darkness. Betty could see nothing at all. She felt first to her right and then to her left to see if she could feel for a light switch. But no matter how much she felt around, there seemed to be nothing. Though she knew that it didn’t mean it wasn’t there, just that she was a little bit rubbish.

What Betty did notice however was that it was not a room at all, but rather a narrow corridor, much narrower in fact than the previous one. And the walls themselves felt strange, not flat at all. The wallpaper was like bumpy fabric, Betty slid her hand up the fabric until she reached head height where the texture changed. Her hand remembered the feeling straight away, the preserved skin of a corpse. Betty let go and rubbed her hands on her leg. Disgusting stuff. She didn’t want to think what this meant, that she was in fact in a corridor lined with bodies. Damn she thought about it. Quick as a flash, Betty walked with speed straight ahead and with one hand firmly out in front of her. And she didn’t stop until her hand felt door, solid wooden door. And even quicker, she was through the door into the saving light beyond.

Out of the darkness and into the light, and what a light it was. Betty had stepped into a huge magnificent hall. At its centre was a long rectangular dining table and circling that were various smaller round ones. All complete with frilly white table clothes, napkins and the correct order and number of cutlery.

It came to be no surprise to Betty when she saw that all around the tables, in every single chair, sat more bodies then she could even count. All positioned like they were enjoying a meal, two were even pulling a cracker, for eternity no doubt. It was at this point that Betty thought that not even Ed Gein had anything on these guys.

At the head of the huge dining table, on a much bigger chair, sat the only corpse that had not been ‘done up’ by the All smiles services. Its skin was like leather in places but maybe a little bit mushy in others. Its eyes looked like they had been replaced by two shiny blue marbles and the clothes were little more than mouldy rags. But the most notable difference was the mouth, it was the polar opposite compared to everyone else around the table. It was the saddest Corpse Betty had ever seen. And it wasn’t just how it looked. It was the smell.

And the smell was disgusting.

Betty had not smelt something that bad since her birthday in 1967, when in desperation she tried to score off an incredibly smelly, hash dealing tramp. Unfortunately the substance in the bag did not end up being exactly what Betty thought. In fact later, under professional analyses it did not end up being anything any one had ever known. It was a completely new substance.

Betty donated the item to science. They still don’t know to this day what it is. She never saw the tramp again. Not because he mysteriously disappeared but because she had no intention of ever returning.

When Betty stopped reminiscing and remembered she was in a room full of smiling corpses, her thoughts turned again quickly to why this one was different to all the others. Dare she take a closer look?

One of the corpses arms rest on the table, its hand clenched into a fist. Then Betty noticed something, a glimmer from a gap between two leathery fingers. Could it be the key she had been hunting for? It looked like it. Unfortunately that meant she’d have to open each finger on the corpse’s hand to retrieve it.

“Bugger” she thought.

5

Barbara walked up the few steps to the front door of the great house.

“Come on hobbler” She called out behind her.

Christopher was leaning against the empty hearse, with only one shoe on his left foot. The right shoe was still where Christopher had left it, getting crushed between the gates that even now were still trying to meet.

“Christopher please, the doors unlocked. Peter and Betty are in here somewhere. Move that bottom.”

Hearing Peter’s name was enough for Christopher to put his foot down albeit tentatively. He hobbled his way up the steps in some discomfort but Barbara gave him no sympathy.

“So you ended up being more blunder woman then wonder woman” Barbara sniggered. “It happens to the best of us.”

Without wasting any more time, Barbara grabbed Christopher by the arm, kicked open the front door and waltzed straight in pulling him along for the ride.

“Typical” She said looking around. “You can tell this is a bachelor pad, everything’s red.”

“So what are we looking for?” asked Christopher

“I guess you’re looking for me” replied a familiar voice.

Barbara and Christopher both turned a hundred and eighty degrees to see Jacob and a rotund man with an amazingly blank expression on his face, blocking the entrance they had previously come in.

“Hello again Jacob.”

“It’s been awhile Barbara, though scarcely a moment has passed without my mind wondering back to you.”

“Where are Peter and Betty?” demanded Christopher.

“Yes they are both here.” Jacob replied, always with that same sickening smile. “And don’t worry we’ve taken good care of them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“Exactly that. You can go and see them if you like, I won’t stop you.”

“First I want an explanation.” now it was Barbara’s turn to demand. 

“Why all this, why preserve the bodies and place them out the way you do.”

“It’s for him” smiled Jacob. “It’s always been all for him.”

Barbara and Christopher both turned their attention from Jacob to the rotund guy. His blank face never changed. So they turned back to Jacob.

“Victor?” said Christopher. “Why, what’s so important about him.”

“All we ever wanted to do was make my brother happy, I owe him that much.” Jacob’s voice sounded so sad, which made the grin even more terrifying. “But after he died, I thought I’d never get the chance to make him smile again.”

“Victor died?” Christopher couldn’t keep his confusion quiet. 

“You’re telling me he’s the other one who died.”

“But you see God it seems was smiling on us that day, my brother was returned to me, but at a price.”

“You mean it affected his mind?” Christopher looked again at the blank face. “That explains a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Jacob sounded angry.

“Well, look at him... he's slow isn't he?”

“Christopher, please don’t use terms like that” said Barbara.

“Sorry.”

Jacob turned to look where Christopher was looking then started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Barbara asked.

“He’s not Victor. I’ll admit I sometimes call him brother because Victor and I kind of adopted him, what with his amazing skills.”

“Now I’m really confused.” admitted Christopher. “If Mr Herring isn’t your brother, and silent Bob here isn’t your brother. Then where and who the hell is Victor?” 

6

Betty grabbed hold of the first finger and tried to gently pull it away from the palm. At first it wouldn’t budge so Betty gave it a little extra welly. The finger started to make creaking and cracking noises as she finally managed to slowly move it. She was so sure it would break off if she applied any more pressure.

Finally satisfied with her work on the first finger, Betty quickly moved onto the second. This one was even tougher to dislodge, fighting all the way. The clicks and creaks and cracks seemed to sound even louder than the previous finger. But again she prevailed.

The third finger should be enough for Betty to retrieve her prize. Once she’d got the key, she just had to go back, pick Peter up if she had to, and get out. Just this last finger but Betty knew it would be the toughest one yet. She would probably have to snap the thing right off to get the key. That was always the way her luck worked. Betty took a deep breath and went to work on the final finger, but to her amazement it opened out easiest of all. With a huge sigh of relief Betty clasped her hand round the key.

“Hello Betty” said a voice, it sounded like a child.

Betty knew there was only one place that voice could have come from. She looked up from the key to the face of the corpse.

“You don’t know what an honour it is to finally speak with you” the corpse with the child’s voice said as its leathery fingers snapping around Betty’s hand, trapping her hand and herself in place. Betty screamed and the child giggled.

“Who are you? What are you?” Betty pleaded.

“We’ll isn’t it obvious” the child’s voice sounded annoyed that she didn’t know. “I’m Victor.”

Barbara and Betty will return in...

The Eternal Child

coming soon...