The Adventures of Huxley & Finch

Barbara parked the ancient Land Rover across the road from the Funeral Parlour.  Christopher was surprised at how normal it looked. He’d half expected the building to be bright blue and covered with clouds, but it looked the same as any of the other buildings that stood either side and across from it. Did he feel slightly disappointed? As soon as the car stopped Barbara was out; across the road; and up the path to the entrance. As she opened the door a tiny bell jingled, warning all inside that Huxley was coming. By the time Christopher had caught up with Barbara she was already sitting patiently in the waiting area. Christopher sat down next to her. “Now then” Barbara whispered, “Jacob will be out in a minute. Remember, just play along with whatever I say or do.” “Okay. But can I ask, what’s the reason you had to bring the Knitting? You simply refused to leave without it.” “Ah, I’m glad you asked. You see there are many reasons for bringing Knitting into a s...

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. T he road beyond ...

Peter looked into the mirror at his reflection. His eyes looked wired, and his skin seemed so pale. Had he slept? He wasn't even sure. So much had happened in the last couple of days. From the tragic news of his brother to the weirdness that came after. It was hard to keep it all in his head. From the moment Peter's brother died everything had become a blur; the seconds; the minutes; the hours. The world continued rolling on; night to day and day to night; but at break neck speed.  Only a few crucial moments stood out in all the haze.  Peter remembered sitting on the sofa with Christopher’s arm round his shoulder. Christopher was talking to him; kind loving words Peter was sure; but he hadn't heard a single one. It was as if the world was on mute and Peter didn’t care. Peter remembered trying to sort out funeral arrangements; money was tight and it was so close to Christmas. It should have been an impossible task but it took Christopher only minutes of searchin...