Smile - Episode Two

The journey to Huxley and Finch’s cottage was a slow and quiet one. Initially it wasn’t too bad for Christopher’s car; but once they reached the country roads of High Hurst wood it began to get much trickier. 

The thick falling snow had covered most of the scenery and signposts; and patches of road that were uncovered had become slides of black ice. Christopher thought it was going to take them all day to get there; so it came as a huge surprise when; almost certainly by accident; they came across the gates to Huxley and Finch’s cottage.

 

The huge iron gates were almost hidden amongst a thick line of trees; gold letters ran along the top spelling the name of the place they had been looking for.

Rose Cottage

“You don’t think they’ll be a bit; you know; creepy?” Peter asked.

 

“Too late now Pete; we’re here”

The gates were heavy; it took both the boys considerable effort to push them back enough to allow the car to fit through. The road beyond twisted through a forest; the trees either side hung over; creating a tunnel where only cracks of light could penetrate here and there. It was so dark in there it was like night had fallen.

After following the midnight trial for some time they finally saw light coming from round the next bend. As the car turned into the light; it took a second for Peter and Christopher to readjust and take in the view that now rolled out before them.

The forest had opened out onto an impossible world. It was a massive clearing; an area too big surely to be hidden within the army of trees that circled it. At the furthest edge of the clearing stood a thatched cottage that appeared to have been ripped straight out of a fairy tale; painted white; with quaint little windows and thick black wooden beams. Even smoke was lazily chugging from the chimney that stuck haphazardly out from the side of the roof.

Between the Boys and the Cottage lay a maze of hedged off garden areas and archways. They weren’t entirely sure how to get the car closer to the cottage so they climbed out and decided to make the rest of the way on foot.

“I feel like I’m in a dream” said Christopher as they began their path through the hedged areas.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Haven’t you noticed it yet” replied Christopher. “Where’s the snow?”

Peter couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed. There was not a drop of snow anywhere in sight. In fact it wasn’t even that cold. The leaves were still on the trees, they hadn’t even had the decency to turn brown and crisp and fall off. The flowers in all their colours and beauty where still out in bloom, the sun still shone down from a perfect blue sky, even the birds and bees hadn’t shut up shop.

Had no one told this garden summer had ended a long time ago, did it not know it was almost Christmas?

Each of the small gardens held a new surprise for the boys to stumble on. In one were half a dozen trees overburdened with ripe apples. Peter was just in time to grab one as it fell from the tree and was about to take a bite when Christopher gave him the look. Peter promptly dropped the apple.

In another; row after row of roses greeted them. In another still were other flowers of every type imaginable; Some were segregated into groups; whilst the rest were knitted together in a tapestry of scent and colour.

“No holding hands in the gardens” Peter chuckled reading aloud from a sign sticking out the side of a patch of grass.

“It’s gorgeous here” Christopher said as he inhaled deeply, taking in all the smells around him. As he closed his eyes, he noticed lines of colours dancing past his closed lids. And then images; frozen like photos; of his past drifted in and out of view; following the dancing lines of reds; blues and golds. Christopher saw a fire engine; his favourite toy as a child, then an image of Guinness his old black and white cat who he hadn’t thought about in years.

The images from Christopher’s past were vivid and had a clarity he thought his brain had long since given up trying to produce. Normally used to VHS style murk, this HD reworking blazed into the back of his eyes like they had been burnt there to stay.  

“That was weird” said Christopher shaking his head. “Pete; you’re not getting any; I don’t know; strange feelings or images are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously not. It must be just me, over tired or something I guess.”

Peter just laughed and continued to explore the seemingly magical garden.

The garden areas continued on. There was a large pond, upon which giant lily pads circling around each other; enticing anyone to try and cross to the other side. Christopher gave Peter the look before he even thought about attempting a go; so he didn’t bother.

Beyond the pond they saw giant slightly phallic looking toadstools growing out the side of a hollow tree. The two guys couldn’t stop giggling until they were completely out of view.

Peter stopped in his tracks; he was staring at something but Christopher couldn’t see what it was.

“I can’t believe it” said Peter suddenly. “That looks just like-”

“Sorry?” asked Christopher.

“She’s exactly the same; one ear bent down; faded patch down one side of her face.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Old girl?” said Peter as he ran off down a side path. 

“Where are you going?”

Old girl; Christopher thought; Peter’s talking about his old dog. He must be seeing images as well, though his seem to be moving.

Christopher followed but it wasn’t long before Peter stopped and turned back with an excitable look on his face.

“Did you see her. Well, obviously it wasn’t her. But she looked so alike.”

“I keep seeing things too. It’s weird but I think you did actually see her, or a memory of her at least.”

Peter seemed to catch a scent of something; Christopher was sure he saw a bit of nose flare action before Peter was off again through an another arch. 

Christopher was trailing slightly behind so he did not see whatever it was that suddenly made Peter say wow. Though, as he stepped through the archway the unmistakable pungent odour hitting his nostrils soon told him what would greet him.

That smell instantly took Christopher back in time to the college party where they first met, where he had seen Peter for the first time through a haze of giggling Jocks and thick smoke.

It’s funny, Christopher used to think Peter looked so cool back then; sitting at the head of the table with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face; surrounded by hordes of stoned zombies munching on chocolate and bags of crisps; all looking up at him with the kind of adoration and loyalty normally only reserved between a dog and its owner. He never understood at the time why one of the cool kids would notice; let alone like; a nerdy bookworm like him.

But now; when Christopher looked at Peter he realised that though he himself had changed much in the intervening years; Peter had not. He was still the same cool kid sitting at that table; even now. But was that still cool? Was that even the right word now? Peter had always told him he never intended to grow up and get serious. He always wanted to be the eternal child. But the problem was Christopher had grown up.

Christopher found Peter bent over a large patch of dark green weed. He had brought up one of the leaves to his nose and was taking a good long sniff. The grin on his face was unmistakable.

“Ah Chris, how many years has it been?”

“Hands off Pete, you promised.”

“I know, I know. But it doesn’t hurt to have a whiff does it?”

Peter inhaled another nostril full of the potent green plant; his smile faded for a second; and did Christopher see a tear? He wandered what Peter was thinking and placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder for comfort. All of a sudden new images flashed in front of his eyes; but this time they were moving.

It was though Christopher was in bed, but not a bed he remembered. He could see his own hands and they were tiny; they were poking out the end of a Postman Pat pyjama sleeve that Christopher had never owned. A woman walked in the room that Christopher recognised straight away even though he had never met her before. Her face was from a photo Peter always treasured, it was of his mother. This was Peter's memory.

Peter’s mother leaned over the side of the bed and kissed Christopher’s tiny cheek. A fragrant smell wafted under his nose; Christopher recognised it immediately; Peter’s beloved weed.

How could it feel like Christopher’s memory? He remembered the feeling of unquestioning love; but how could this be? Peter’s mother disappeared as quickly as she appeared only to be replaced by another, stranger scene. Christopher was back at the college party. Standing in the haze in front of him was a man he didn’t think he knew. But then he realised it was himself; much younger and through the eyes of another. And it wasn’t just an image; there was a thought as well.

Hello there.

Christopher opened his eyes not even realising he had closed them again. Peter was looking back at him, smiling once more.

“You’re not being soppy again are you?”

Christopher composed himself again then wiped his eyes. He looked around at the garden one more time then at the big patch of weed before returning his gaze to Peter.

“I’m not sure these are the kind of people we want helping us, do we?” Christopher finally spoke. “Not only do they grow illegal herbs in the garden. But just look at this place, it is impossible”

“Nonsense, they are exactly what we are looking for. The best people to sort out something strange are strange people themselves.”

They found a bench and sat down momentarily, Peter looked out at the garden.

“It’s strange” said Peter.

“What is?” said Christopher.

“You and me, sitting here, never saw it coming” said Peter.

“I know what you mean, this place is unbelievable.”

“That’s not what I meant, but you’re right it is amazing. I think I could stay here forever.” Peter turned and looked into Christopher’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of the view.”

“Forever is a long time you know, I couldn’t do it. Don’t you think you’d get bored?”

Peter looked back to the garden and laughed.

“Ah you’ll stay with me for a bit, then come back and visit whenever you want. We could sit in this very spot and simply enjoy the view. Or go out there exploring.”

Christopher chuckled then got to his feet.

“Right, we’re almost there Pete” he said, “Just through an arch over there.”

“Yeah, we kind of went the long way round. Glad we did though.”

It was as Christopher said, they passed through one more arch and finally had their feet back on gravel. Now all that was between them and the cottage was a vehicle; an ancient Land Rover standing like a guard; menacing in the now slowly dwindling light.

Peter climbed the four steps up to the front door of the cottage and knocked. There was no sound from the other side of the door. Peter knocked again.

After a substantial length of time, the front door finally opened to reveal a large mass of grey hair with two huge eyes protruding out the front. Peter looked down and realised the strange creature was in fact connected to a body.

“Peter and Christopher?” the voice came from within the hair. Peter assumed there was a mouth in there somewhere, and hopefully a nose and a pair of ears too. “Yes of course you are, you wouldn’t have found us otherwise.”

Peter and Christopher just stood there smiling.  

“Do come in” The hair continued, standing back to give them room. “I’m Betty Finch by the way, please to meet you. Barbara’s in her Library at the minute hopefully won’t be long; looking for a book for me. Well I say won’t be long; one time we lost her for a whole week. But she knows you’re coming so it should be fine.”

“Got lost? How big is the library?” Christopher asked as he and Peter wondered into the strange little cottage.  

“I have no idea. I’ve never been in there. Not allowed see; no one’s allowed. Any and every book you can imagine she has in that room. In my head it goes on for miles; with huge staircases zigzagging all over the place and stuffed shelves going as far up as the eye can see.”

Peter was convinced Betty was smiling. He was beginning to believe he could read hair. Wow; he thought; I'm the hair whisperer. 

Christopher, not knowing what else to say, asked her what book Barbara was looking for. 

 

"I’m not sure but I think it might have something to do with Mr Dan Dare. You know, the pilot of the future?” Peter and Christopher both shook their head. 

Betty fell silent, which turned a little uncomfortable until finally Barbara made an appearance.

Barbara Huxley, a slightly dumpy lady with skin that belies her age and a marvellously grand bottom. Only her clothes gave her away; a yellow and blue dress with signs of a petticoat sticking out from beneath. Under her left arm she carried a large red book with a golden Eagle on the front; which she immediately offered to a now remarkably animated Betty.

“My Goodness” Betty exclaimed “the first ever Annual and in mint condition.” 

“Happy birthday Betty.”

“Thank you. You are naughty, it’s not until tomorrow”.

“I know but I have a funny feeling we are going to have our hands full for the next few days. Isn’t that right boys?” Barbara said turning to Peter and Christopher for the first time.

Barbara led Peter and Christopher through a low doorway into a fairly large sitting room. The thick beams from outside were present everywhere inside as well, bordering all the walls, doorways and windows. The unmistakable woody smell filled the boy’s nostrils, bringing with it a sense of homeliness and calmness. They instantly felt safe here, like they were with friends.

They sat on a raggedy old sofa covered by a multi-coloured throw. It was one of those sofas that you sort of sunk into, it seemed to mould around Peter and Christopher’s bodies like it was a part of them. And though it was incredibly easy to sit on, the boy’s were under no illusion how much harder it would be when they had to eventually climb out.     

In front of the sofa, a grand fireplace opened out in the wall. It was so huge you could almost class it as a separate room.

“Betty, be a dear and make a pot of tea” Barbara thought for a moment before continuing. “Wait, what was I thinking? I’ll go make the tea, Betty you stay with the boys.”

“Does Betty make bad tea then?” questioned Peter.

“On the contrary I make magnificent tea” Betty asserted “the best tea you’ve ever tasted. But the problem is..”

“It wipes people’s minds.” Barbara laughed.

“It’s not fair really, an unforgettable taste you will never remember” said Betty with a mock sad face.

All Peter and Christopher could do was chuckle. The world was seemingly stranger by the day and for whatever reason they believed the two old dears, it just looked like it never occurred to the two ladies to lie.

Once the tea was made and distributed, the four of them got down to business.

“Right then dears tell me all about it” said Barbara, her tone and demeanour much like a grandparent you always knew you could confide in. It didn’t take Peter and Christopher long to tell them all they knew and after much discussion Barbara devised a plan of action.  

“Our first attack will be frontal” Barbara began “and depending how far that takes us we may follow up with a bit of night time sneaking and snooping."

“Oh I do love a bit of cloak and dagger” added Betty.

“Hopefully they’ll be neither” said Barbara. “And Betty can’t you do something with that hair of yours, I can hardly see your face these days. I wouldn’t complain but as it seems to have no effect in keeping you quieter you might as well do something about it.” 

Betty’s hair shrugged. “Right as no more can be done this evening I think It’ll be best if the both of you stop here the night. The guest room is up the stairs on the left. You’re welcome to go straight to bed or shave a night cap with me.”

The Boys chose to stay up and have a drink with Barbara. They stood in the back garden; which was as normal as the garden outside your kitchen window would be; all the strangeness it seemed were reserved for the front garden.

“Gorgeous night again Betty” said Barbara looking up and the starry night sky.

“It’s always a gorgeous night here” chuckled Betty as she winked at Peter then skipped off down the path into the darker recesses of the back garden; where the light from the backdoor couldn’t reach. 

“Where’s Betty off too?” asked Peter.

“She’s got a hut at the end of the garden. I don’t allow smoking in the house so she goes down there. I’m not allowed in the Hut. I guess it is revenge for my Library.”

Christopher told Barbara what Betty had previously spoken about. 

“She said she imagined it went on for miles and there were huge staircases everywhere.”

Barbara laughed. “That old girl reads and watches far too much fantasy, that’s her problem.”

Christopher chuckled and turned to Peter. There was a space where Peter used to be.

“Peter?” He called out, than to Barbara “Did he go to bed?”

”While we were talking he disappeared down the garden after Betty.”

“Will Betty mind?”

“That’s the difference with Betty and me. I don’t allow anyone into my Library whereas Betty lets everyone into her Hut but me.”

Christopher laughed then let out a huge yawn.

“Well it’s no good” he said. “I’m hitting the sack. Tell Peter I’ve gone up, will you?”

“Of course Christopher, and don’t worry we’ll sort this all out.”

“I believe you, I don’t know why but I feel like I can trust you.” Christopher started to walk towards the stairs then turned back to Barbara again. “Can I ask a question Barbara?”

“Yes dear?”

“That impossible garden; this cottage and you two; how does it all work? I sound cheesy; but it’s magical?”

Barbara chuckled as if that was a good enough answer.

“No really, how?”

“You know how in the old days the things people didn’t understand they thought must be magic?”

“Yeah?”

“Well it follows that if I told you exactly how everything worked, and you understood, it wouldn’t be magical anymore would it?”

“Oh” said Christopher “Does it still seem magical to you?”

“In a way” Barbara replied. “I can still see it in your eyes.”

It didn’t take long for Christopher to climb the stairs and find the door to the guest room because it said guest room on the door. As soon as he climbed into bed and his head touched the pillow, he was gone. 

***

That morning they were all up early. Christopher bright as a button as always; Peter a little groggily and Betty; well who could tell? Barbara had a full English fry up ready on the table when all three reached the kitchen. 

While they ate the admittedly scrumptious breakfast, Barbara spoke “Meeting started at 700 hours.” This was the first the rest of the group even knew they were having a meeting. “First item on the agenda is Betty’s Birthday. I know we normally make an event of it old bean, but unfortunately we’ll have to hold off a few days.”

Betty agreed and the meeting continued. “Right we need to get a good look at the enemy right in the face. Eyeball to eyeball, it’s the only way I can size them up. We will split into two teams. 

Christopher you’re with me. For one, the Funeral Director has not met you which we will use to our advantage. And two; I quite like you. I see similarities between us and you’re much quieter then Peter; no offence Peter.”

“Were you sizing us up?” asked Peter.

“Of course, weren’t you doing the same? You found a kindred spirit in Betty did you not.” Peter didn’t reply. Christopher looked at him confused. “Christopher and I will go in under the ruse we’re shopping around for coffins.”

“Who for?” added Betty.

“You, if you keep leading guests astray.” Barbara retorted with a tone everyone in the room knew meant business. “Betty, you and Peter will stay at base out of trouble. But be ready to mobilise if we come across a hitch. Christopher, when the Funeral Director came to your home was your car in the driveway?”

“No, I took it.”

“Brilliant, we’ll take Christopher’s car and use the land rover as back up. Now I must find my Knitting. Can’t do any work without that.”

As soon as Barbara and Christopher left, Betty became very animated once more, grabbed Peter and dragged him down the back garden to the hut

“We should carry on where we left off last night” Betty giggled.

“Aren't we meant to be keeping out of trouble?" 

“No one can promise tomorrow Pete, but we do have today. And do you know what today is?" Betty asked as she rummaged through a stack of CDs.

“Your birthday?”

“Exactly, lets stick some music on and get completely smashed."

To Be Continued Tomorrow...