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WRITERS EYES / ASCRIBER Uniting Writers Around The World Online Writing Group
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by
Bootie
Marjorie Turned Down the Radio
Marjorie turned down the radio. Yes there it was again: a faint knock on the front door. Who could it be at this time of night, and in such foul weather?
Marjorie's husband was away on business and she was alone in the isolated farmhouse. She was not a nervous person but she hesitated. The knock came again, so she climbed out of her chair and went to the door.
Peering through the small window, hampered by the rivulets of rain running down it, she could see nothing. She called out but there was no reply. Again she called. “Who is there?” This time she heard a tiny voice saying> “Please help us, we are wet and hungry.” Hoping she was doing the right thing, she opened the door, and was amazed to see a small girl in a summer dress, clutching a little dog in her thin arms. Marjorie stared at the dress in wonder. It was just like one she'd sold in the local charity shop where she worked. A woman had bought it for her daughter to attend the 40's night in the village hall.
“Oh dear!” Marjorie cried. “You are soaking.” She beckoned them to enter, and closed the door quickly to keep the heavy rain out. She was wet too from the wind blown rain.
Marjorie coaxed the girl and her dog into the living room saying. “Come over to the fire and warm yourself.” She draped a cardigan over the girl's tiny shoulders and soon both the girl and the dog were gratefully lapping up the warmth that the fire was giving out.
“I'll fetch some towels and a robe so that you can dry off properly.” Marjorie looked down at the girl who gazed at her gratefully. A small smile lit up her face, which was now beginning to regain some of its colour.
“What's your name?” Marjorie asked, as she gently towelled her dry.
“Pamela.” The girl replied “And my dog's called Monty.” Pamela was now dry and dressed in the robe, which was much too big for her. They turned their attention to the dog, which was soon showing it's gratitude by snuggling up to Marjorie, and licking her hands and face.
“What brought you out on a night like this?” Marjorie looked at the girl as she spoke, and saw her face cloud over.
“I'm scared. I got lost and fell in the river. Monty and I were swimming for ages. I've been sleeping in fields and eating berries and carrots that I pulled up myself.” She burst into tears, and Marjorie hugged her, and gently stroked her hair.
Pamela snuggled closer and Marjorie thought she was dozing, but soon she sat up and started talking again. “My Mom and Dad have gone; I can't find them.” She started to cry again. “Nobody is here ant more!” She paused, still sobbing, then slid down and picked up Monty. “My Granny's house is empty and its falling down, and all the cows have gone, and I only left home to go for a walk.”
Marjorie started to feel light-headed. He mind began to whirl. What was Pamela talking about? There were no other houses around here for miles, and she'd heard of no disasters. Perhaps Pamela had walked from another village and had been lost for several days? She would get her husband to the police station when he returned in the morning.
In a little while Pamela perked up and asked if she could have something to eat. “Of course you can my love.” Marjorie felt guilty that she hadn't thought of that herself; she went into the kitchen to prepare some food and drink for them both, not forgetting to provide for Monty as well. Soon she was humming to herself slicing thick chunks of fresh bread, only baked that morning, spreading butter liberally then covering each slice with juicy slices of ham. The kettle boiled, and she brewed the tea. She had a sudden thought; perhaps Pamela would prefer a soft drink? A glass of lemonade was soon poured and put on the tray just in case. Monty's dish was filled with offcuts of the ham together with some chicken in gravy left over from her own evening meal.
Meanwhile Pamela wandered around the room looking at the photographs, which were everywhere> She gazed intently at the family groups, smiling at some, and staring quizzically at others. She picked up her dress, its twin was in one of the photos, or it seemed so. The sepia photo didn't show the vibrant colours of the one Pamela held in her hands. The dress was now virtually dry, so she folded it carefully and placed her worn leather shoes on top of it.
Suddenly there was a loud crash as lightening struck the chimney. Soot started to fall down and bricks dropped on to the fire, clanging against the fender as they knocked red-hot coals into the room. The carpet and the nearby settee started to smoulder. There were rumbles and groans as the chimney began to disintegrate, Pamela and Marjorie could hear the bricks rattling down the roof tiles, loosening some of them and adding to the din. Monty had tucked in his tail and dived for cover under the coffee table as soon as the noise started.
Marjorie rushed in to see what had happened, and quickly assessing the situation hurried Pamela and the dog into the front room, then dashed back and beat out the smouldering carpet and settee. Luckily the flames hadn't really caught hold.
Another loud bang heralded the arrival of yet more soot and bricks. This latest fall scattered even more coals causing the carpet to once again ignite. She was covered in soot, and was beginning to panic when she saw Pamela burst into the room carrying a bucket partly filled with water. The girl threw this on the flames, which had begun to take hold, dousing them, and finally the danger from fire was over.
They were both blackened by now, and when Marjorie felt it was safe she called to Pamela. “Come with me, let's get cleaned up. We'll leave the fireplace as it is for the moment.” They both showered, Pamela seemed fascinated by the streams of water coming from the wall. Marjorie noticed this, and said. “Not had a shower before? They're much quicker that a bath.”
Monty had dived in with them, scattering soapsuds everywhere, and he had to be dried off as well.
When they were freshened up Marjorie led the back into the front room, where she set out the food she'd prepared before all the excitement started. She laid out pickled onions and beetroot plus a liberal helping of cheese to compliment the delicious ham. As Pamela tucked in, eating ravenously, Marjorie glanced into the living room to make sure it was now safe. Apart from the settling soot, everything seemed under control.
After the food was eaten, Marjorie made Pamela comfortable on the large sofa. wrapping her in a blanket. “I'll just clear away these plates and things, and then give the living room a bit of wash and brush up.” She went into the kitchen and washed the plates and cups. This done she gathered together her cleaning equipment and returned to the living room. Gingerly opening the door so as not to disturb the soot any more that necessary, she stepped inside. She was startled to see that the furniture gleamed, the carpet looked as good a new, and the fire was roaring away in the hearth. All in all, a restful rural farmhouse scene.
Outside the storm had abated, and as the cloud cover moved away, the moon bathed the farmhouse and surrounding fields with its pale light.
Pamela was standing in the centre of the room bathed in the moonlight which was streaming in through the window. It seemed to Marjorie though that it was more than just moonlight, it was brighter than the beam shining through the window, and was almost a halo surrounding the child.
Amazement changed to fear. Marjorie couldn't understand what was happening to her. The feeling of light-headedness was now overwhelming, and she just managed to sit down before she fainted.
Pamela was staring at her, smiling slightly, when she came round. She noticed that the dog was nestling in the girl's arms and it stared back at Marjorie, the look in its eyes echoing Pamela's smile.
Marjorie sat upright, gazed around at the shining room and whispered. “How could all that soot and dirt have been cleaned away?”
Pamela continued to stare at her as she replied. “We did it, Monty and I.”
Marjorie's eyes widened, and she began to be frightened. She was unable to ask how they had done it, and strange thoughts whirled around in her head, a gasp of disbelief tinged with fear broke from her lips.
Pamela continued. “Monty and I are very clever, we can do lots of things!” She laughed and Monty barked as if in agreement with her.
Marjorie gathered her wits together, and forced a smile to her lips as she said. “Yes my dear I'm sure you can, but I think it's time we went to bed now.”
She tucked Pamela into the spare bed wondering to herself what manner of girl she was. Monty jumped onto the bed and snuggled down with her. They were both soon fast asleep.
Marjorie went to her own room, confused thoughts running around in her head long after she had pulled the bedclothes around her, but eventually she fell asleep.
Marjorie sleepily rubbed her eyes, and looked across at the window. The curtains were still drawn but by the sunlight that was pouring into the room, she knew the morning was well advanced.
A low insistent drone filtered into her consciousness, and the memories of the previous evening came flooding back. She began to feel frightened again, but she climbed out of bed and stealthily crept to the top of the stairs. The sounds became louder, but were still indistinct. As she crept down the stairs she noticed that the living room door was half open, and soon she could look right into the room.
The girl and her dog were there, but also sitting with them was a small by, a man and a woman. They were all talking animatedly, and Marjorie realised it was the sound of their voices that she had been able to hear whilst upstairs.
Realisation of what she was seeing suddenly dawned on her, and she sat down on the bottom step with a thump. This was unbelievable, these people in her house were mostly dead, only the boy still lived, and with a start she recognised hi as her husband. The girl, her husband's sister, had died in a tragic accident along with her pet dog, and their parents had long since passed away. They had all been part of this house in their time.
Before Marjorie could take any action, or faint again, the front door clicked and her husband walked in. She ran sobbing with relief into his arms, feeling his strength and confidence flowing into her. On opening her eyes she could see that the images in the living room were no longer there.
Comments
Opening: 8
Character(s): 8
Dialogue: 8
Setting: 8
Plot: 9
Suspense: 8
Ending: 6
Enjoyment: 7
comments: The ending of this charming tale comes along a little abruptly. The reader is left wondering why Marjorie had had this experience - was it an anniversary of the tragedy, a full moon, Hallowe'en?
Andy Bee
Opening: 5
Character(s): 7
Dialogue: 6
Setting: 6
Plot: 6
Suspense: 7
Ending: 7
Enjoyment: 8
comments: Each time I read the story I enjoyed it more. Marjorie`s
character comes over well as being "motherly".
A good ghostly tale
Dollybird