The day it arrived it gave Mike quite a shock.
He hadn't received a letter from them for many years. Why would
they start writing now? As soon as he saw the postmark (Dreadsbury)
he knew whom it was from. It sent a shiver trickling down his
backbone.
"Well, aren't you going to open it?"
Mike startled jumped, then gave a sigh of relief.
"Sal, don't creep up on me like that. I'm a bag of nerves
as it is."
"Why?" Quizzed Sal. She eyed Mike closely. "Has
it got anything to do
with that?" She said, pointing at the
envelope in his hand.
Mike explained that he was too terrified
to open the letter. His Great Aunt Grizzelda had sent it. She
lived in a small village called Dreadsbury along with her sister
called Grimelda. There were lots of tales about things that happened
in that village. Stories of magic, witches, haunted houses and
people vanishing, never to be seen again. The last time Mike
visited, his Aunt told him all these stories. For months afterwards
he couldn't sleep without having nightmares.
"Go on Mike, you've got to open it,"
prompted Sal, "or you'll never know."
"I can't. Here you open it." He forced the letter into
Sal's hands, who
looked closely at it. It was addressed to
Mike written in dark green ink. The writing was very neat and
had lots of loops and flourishes. It looked rather old fashioned.
The envelope felt strange. It didn't feel like any paper Sal
had touched before. It was thick and heavy and was the colour
of sand. A large blob of red wax sealed the back of envelope
shut. In the centre of the seal was the imprint of a cat and
a bat. Sal broke the seal. Mike ducked...
... But, nothing happened. Inside the envelope
was a letter written on the same heavy, sandy paper. It was written
in the same dark green ink. Sal read it out loud.
Dear Mike,
It has been such a long time since your last visit. I thought
of you after I finished drinking my afternoon tea on Friday.
I looked into the bottom of my cup and there you were. There
will be lots of people pleased to see you here in Dreadsbury.
I have booked you some train tickets. They will be at the Ticket
Office of Nearsby Station. Your tickets are for the 4.30pm train
on Friday.
See you
Friday,
Great Aunt Grizzelda
PS. Grimelda
said you can bring your friend too. There is a spare room she
can use and her tickets are already booked. Seeing as you trust
her with opening and reading your letters.
Sal nearly dropped the letter.
"How did she know I was reading..."
"Told you so," said Mike, "she gives me the creeps.
And so does Grimelda.
Between them they know everything. It's those
tealeaves. They read tea leaves. I've no choice now. Don't want
to go," Mike was rambling on, "but she knows we're
coming. She'd have seen it in the leaves."
"What do you mean, WE!" said Sal,
trying desperately to think.
"Well you wanted to read the letter, so they are expecting
you."
Friday came and Mike and Sal stood on the
platform at the railway station. After a great deal of persuasion
Mike had convinced Sal to join him on his weekend in Dreadsbury.
It was nearly 4.30pm and the train to Dreadsbury was due any
second. They watched the brand-new Intercity trains come and
go from the other platforms. It was now 4.29 and a train approached
their platform. It was rather old looking, but it was perfectly
white. Not a single spot of dirt or grime could be seen anywhere.
It seemed to glide towards the platform and hardly made sound.
It was quite an eerie sight. It coasted up to the platform and
then stopped.
Sal looked at Mike. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
She said apprehensively, biting at her lip.
"Sal, as I've said before, I don't want
to go, but what choice do I have?
Great Aunt Grizzelda saw it in her tealeaves
and whatever else happens that sooner or later I'll end up in
Dreadsbury. Even if Aunt Grizzelda drags me there herself."
So, reluctantly they both got on the train.
Aboard the train it looked as old as the
outside, but once again it was spotlessly clean. It was decorated
in very wishy-washy colours and it made walls look almost see
through. It added to the whole ghostly feel of the train. They
walked along the corridor peering through the windows of the
compartments, looking for an empty one. This was difficult as
lots of strange looking people were occupying the seats. In one
compartment there was a man with long black hair and a long black
beard. He was also dressed completely in black. Sitting opposite
him was a lady with dark untamed hair. Her skin had a green tinge
to it and on the seat next to her was a box covered with a drape.
Whatever was moving around in there was as wild as its owner's
hair.
Finally, they found a compartment where they
could be alone. There were no strangely moustached men in top
hats and no women with wild animals or strange clothes or even
stranger stares. When Mike spied through one window, he was met
with a gaze that was so cold it turned his body to ice. As Mike
sat down, after putting his bag on the luggage rack he could
still see her eyes staring at him. They seemed to look right
inside him. It felt as if they could see his very deepest thoughts
and memories. Mike seemed to know that wouldn't be the last time
he'd see that stare.
The train began to roll silently. The two-hour
journey passed very slowly. After ten minutes Mike got out some
sandwiches his mum had made for them. He offered one to Sal.
"What's on them?" she inquired.
"Well there's cheese with onion and
there corned beef with tomato sauce."
"Pass me one of the corned beef." They sat nibbling
at their sandwiches.
Both were starving, but the butterflies in
their stomachs stopped them eating a lot.
They gazed out of the window watching the
towns sail by. They passed children playing on streets, playgrounds
and parks. Adults rushing from workplaces with the weekend firmly
set in their minds. Parties in gardens enjoyed sausages and burgers
still sizzling from the heat of the barbecue grill. Playing Hangman,
noughts and crosses and I-spy helped Mike and Sal pass the time.
Gradually the towns turned to fields. Trees
and hedges flew past the windows as the train increased it speed.
They spied horses galloping carelessly around their enclosures.
Rabbits hoping around each other looking as if they were playing
tag. Lambs were nuzzling sleepily against their mothers and cows
lay lazily waiting for night to fall.
The train glided closer to Dreadsbury. In
the distance Sal could see a village surrounding an unusual clock
tower.
"We're nearly there Mike. I can see
the tower." Mike had described it to
her. It was the village's main feature.
The clock tower stood in the centre of the
village. It was a tall white column with four ornate dials facing
to the north, south, east and west. Above these dials rested
a gold cone with a red stripe spiralling upwards like a ribbon.
On the point of the cone was a weather vane, which was topped
with a huge silver globe. The globe resembled a full moon as
ruled the darkening sky above the village.
At last the train was beginning to slow,
unlike the butterflies in their stomachs, whose wings were fluttering
ten to the dozen. Mike looked at Sal. Sal looked back at Mike.
No words needed to be said; they just read the expressions on
each other's faces. They spelt out fear. Fear of Great Aunt Grizzelda
and her sister Grimelda. Fear of the village and terrifying tales
of past residents and visitors. But most of all, frightened that
they'd got spend a whole weekend there.
The train slide into the station then came to a halt. The station
was no bigger than a small cottage with only one platform. Only
the sign saying 'Dreadsbury', mounted on one of
its walls, gave away the buildings true identity. But where was
great Aunt Grizzelda?
