Polly Brown

by Tricia Bennett

  Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Polly continued her walk home from the funeral home, smiling to herself, for she deemed that her little expedition had been more successful than she could ever have hoped for. She had come away knowing everything she needed to know regarding her brother’s funeral, and she had not even had to ask or beg for them. The nice lady had volunteered all the necessary details, such as time and date and where the service was to be held. This all served to make Polly feel very delighted, as well as thoroughly satisfied with her outing.

  She sang to herself as she wandered home, openly declaring, “Thomas will have flowers on Tuesday. Where from? I have no idea, but he will have flowers and lots of them!”

  She continued singing right up to the front door of the castle. Her only problem now was how to make it to the funeral without Uncle Boritz and Aunt Mildred ever finding out!

  She walked inside and was halfway up the stairs when she was greeted by Bertha Banoffee and Tommy Pulleyblank.

  “You’re in trouble again!” stated Bertha, pulling an extremely childish face. “They want you in their study immediately.”

  Polly said nothing. She just shrugged her shoulders with seeming indifference, dropped her schoolbag by the bottom of the stairs, and turned on her heels to make her way toward the study. Having arrived outside the study door, she timidly knocked, expecting to hear a voice from the other side call out for her to enter. But when no such command came, she knocked on the door again, only this time harder. Still she heard nothing. She then slowly pushed open the door and, with great fear and trepidation, cautiously entered the study. She was very surprised to discover that the room was empty. There was no sign of either guardian.

  Polly stood with hands behind her back, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before giving herself permission to look around the room. She scanned the rows of thick, dusty books lining the many shelves of the large oak bookcases. Before long, her eyes hit Uncle Boritz’s untidy desk and then his old fashioned typewriter that still had a sheet of white paper stuck in the machine. At first she ignored it, choosing to turn her attention to the grandfather clock with its large ornate face. Still neither of her guardians appeared. Her eyes went back to the typewriter, and it seemed to be inviting her to move closer. Polly inwardly rebuked herself for even giving thought to reading someone else’s private and most personal mail, for it was not something she had ever done before. Yet, as she stood there alone waiting for her guardians, the piece of paper stuck in the typewriter became more and more irresistible with every minute that ticked by.

  Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and she wandered around the desk and stood before the old typewriter, her eyes glancing down at the letter. It was addressed for the attention of Miss Dogsbody, care of the social services. It was also incorrectly dated. It should have read the seventeenth of May; instead it read the seventeenth of October. The letter was five months ahead of itself! What on earth was going on? Perplexed by the incorrect dating on the letter, Polly allowed her curiosity to run away with her, and she proceeded to read the letter.

  Dear Miss Dogsbody,

  We regret to inform you that Thomas Brown has disappeared, and with him some £20 of our hard-earned money. After much investigation into his whereabouts, it appears that for a long time Thomas had the somewhat daft idea of going to America in search of his real father. All the children were thoroughly interviewed by us, and of those children that Thomas had confided in all told us the exact same story. It appears that Thomas was very determined to go ahead with his plan in spite of their efforts to dissuade him. As the children had no desire to get Thomas into trouble, none of them thought to report their concerns to us, for they just saw this as another of Thomas’s pie-in-the-sky dreams that would, like the rest of his little fantasies, amount to nothing, particularly as he had no way of financing this little adventure. That is, until he stole our money, for which the children are most upset as it will mean serious temporary cutbacks in all their wonderful activities.

  There is therefore no need for you to come and pay us a visit as there is very little more that we can tell you at present, although we assure you that we will not rest until we have exhausted all avenues in our desperate bid to find Thomas and bring him back safely into the bosom of our big and most wonderful family.

  I think you will wish to agree with me that it is the responsibility of your department to reimburse us with £20 to cover our loss. I am certain this is not the sort of scandal the social services would want the general public to get wind of, as it would do much to damage your department’s otherwise faultless record. I am therefore sure you would wish us to stay well away from being investigated about a missing boy and our missing money. I have to point out that this would in fact be quite difficult, as Mellbury Clifftop of the Daily Times is not only a close friend of ours, but has an extraordinary knack of sniffing out newsworthy stories. Therefore I cannot guarantee that one or more of the children will not accidentally let slip that Thomas is to date still missing. Of course we will do all in our power to prevent such a thing from happening.

  We think that until Thomas is found alive and well (probably living it up in America or Canada at our expense), your department should continue with the payments for his board and lodging as he still has a bed here, ready for when he finally returns safely to the nest. Assuring you of our continued care of all the delightful children we are so fortunate to take care of.

  Yours sincerely,

  Mr. Scumberry, Dop. Dop. Dip. Hon. B.C.S.M.E.C.C. (British and Colonial Standards of Most Excellent Child Care)

  Having reached the end of the letter, Polly started to shake from head to toe, feeling instantly very nauseated to the very pit of her stomach. How could Uncle Boritz write such terrible lies?

  As usual, she was completely powerless to do anything. Her heart filled with despair as she tried to comprehend the enormity of the deceit that had just been revealed as a direct result of reading the letter. How on earth could Thomas ever be found, when he had passed from this life and was about to be buried? She was also very distressed that they were ruining her beloved brother’s character by suggesting he had stolen this incredible sum of money. She felt certain that Miss Dogsbody and all her department would fail to make any sort of investigation in an effort to find out the truth. After all was said and done, they too, like everyone else, were completely besotted with both her guardian angels. The letter surely would be read, stamped with an official rubber stamp, then filed away forever in some large, dingy warehouse, never to see the light of day again.

  Polly felt very angry with this group of people who were meant to care for them. She wondered where it would all end. In the case of her guardians, she thought she knew. Their ability to deceive all those around them—the school, the church, even the social services—might not even end when they finally departed this earth. She believed there was the distinct possibility that some bright spark would have the idea of building a memorial in their honor. Or worse, they would be declared by the church to be saints. Then they would officially become known as Saint Mildred and Saint Boritz. Just the thought of such an event ever happening made her squirm.

  Suddenly Polly thought she heard footsteps. She wasted no time and raced from behind the desk and sat down on a chair as far away from Uncle Boritz’s desk as possible. The last thing she wanted was for her guardians to discover that she had taken a sneaky peek at their letter. Aunt Mildred came in first and Uncle Boritz followed close behind. Following in their footsteps and the last to enter was Pitstop, his teeth exposed as he glanced Polly’s way. They gave no explanation for their absence from the office, preferring to launch into their usual tirade of accusations.

  “And where have you been, young lady?” Aunt Mildred demanded to know. “We have been searching all over the castle and its grounds in our endeavor to find you.”

  Polly remained silent, for she had no intention of telling either of them about her little secret outing.


  “You know full well that you are confined to the castle when you are on R.O.P.E.,” stated Uncle Boritz very angrily. “You are really pushing my patience to the limit, you little wretch. And for all your impudence, rest assured we will be doubling your workload.”

  “Oh, good,” said Aunt Mildred, giving a small but sinister smile before adding her twopence worth. “I have to say, Polly, we have been most fortunate in being able to dispense with both Mrs. Saddlebag and Mrs. Grimespot, the part-time cleaners. For with you to take their place and do all the chores, we simply have no further need of them!”

  Polly did not need to be told any of this, for she had already worked things out for herself a long time ago, and that fact was that her guardians loved saving their money for the finer things of life. For just as making money sent their hearts of stone into a positive spin, so did hoarding it and spending it on little lavish treats. So if Polly could save them money, all was well. She believed this was the main reason behind her continually being placed on R.O.P.E., as they conjured up reason after reason to keep her hard at work.

  Polly was not afraid of all the hard work, for she did every task conscientiously, but she was more than afraid of losing her mind, as week after week she was kept a virtual prisoner within the castle walls. She often wondered how much more she could endure before she really did become mentally unbalanced, intensifying her very real fear of going insane.

  Chapter 12

  IT IS GOOD TO BE A CRACKED POT

  AS HER GUARDIANS appeared to have much on their minds, Polly was spared the usual lengthy sermon and was quickly dismissed from their sight. They ordered her to get back to work, for the kitchen floor needed her attention. As she got down on her hands and knees with her pail and hard brush to begin the task of scrubbing she could hear the wind picking up outside. It was not long before it was positively howling. Soon it began to thunder, and this was closely followed by violent lightning that tore down from the heavens, lighting up the whole sky with its brilliance.

  Polly was grateful to be safely indoors, for she had always been afraid of thunder and lightning. She knew she still had the shoes to clean before she could go and hide under the covers, and this meant going down into the dark and freezing basement. Later that same evening, as she set about doing the final chore of the day, she found it impossible to stay warm. She frantically set about polishing the long rows of shoes on her own. Cecilia had long gone home.

  The light in the dimly lit room kept dimming and then flashing brightly, causing her to shudder with fear as she stood alone before the long rows of shoes. Polly was convinced that the reason she was colder than usual was because the room temperature had dropped to well below zero, so she worked faster than ever in the hope of preventing her chapped hands from becoming number than they already were.

  She had not been tackling the chore very long when there was a knock on the back door of the basement. Polly was mystified as to who could be behind the door, for all visitors normally came to the front door of the castle. Therefore, it was with much caution that she dropped what she was doing and slowly made her way towards the door.

  “Who’s there?” she called out, her shaky voice betraying her underlying fear and apprehension.

  The knock got louder, and Polly’s hands began to shake as she reached for the bolt and cried out for a second time, urgently wishing to know who was on the other side.

  “Polly, it’s me, Ralph. Please let me in,” came the muffled voice from the other side of the heavily bolted door. Polly quickly unbolted the creaky door to allow him to come in from the cold.

  “Ralph,” she delightfully cried, “It’s really lovely to see you, but what on earth are you doing here at this very late hour?”

  “I’ve come to see you, Polly,” he said with a grin.

  “Well, you’re quite out of luck if you’re hungry, Ralph, for I can’t make you the usual,” she responded apologetically. “The kitchen is now locked up and is therefore out of bounds.”

  “That’s perfectly fine with me, Polly,” Ralph replied, giving his belly a quick pat. “I’ve already eaten. Hodgekiss told me about this great little fish and chip shop where they scoop out all the batter into a bag before showering it with salt and vinegar. And all this for just threepence,” he said with a big grin lighting up his face. “I don’t have to tell you, but it’s a most wonderful find. Hodgekiss and I have been eating there regularly! In fact I do believe it has become our local!”

  “You lily-livered weasels!” cried Polly, instantly feeling upset and exasperated with the two of them.

  All thoughts of being frozen and fearful were instantly banished as poor Polly stood there fuming! First they sneakily sabotage her cake shop, and now her local fish and chip shop. “They certainly have a lot of cheek,” thought a now-furious Polly. She took in a deep breath and picked up another shoe from the row, which she then began to frantically brush in an effort to dispel her sense of outrage towards both men. She clenched her teeth lest anything too hasty or unkind should slip out.

  “Cat got your tongue, Polly?” Ralph asked good-humoredly.

  Polly ignored him, feverishly continuing to brush the shoe she was holding in her hand.

  “Come on, Polly. Don’t hold out on me. Looking so mad and angry doesn’t suit you. Really, it doesn’t,” he said playfully.

  Polly still continued brushing away at the same shoe, ignoring Ralph completely.

  “If you brush that shoe any harder, before long there will be a nice hole in the toe, and then you can give them to Hodgekiss,” Ralph suggested with another grin.

  “Speaking of Hodgekiss, how is he doing?” Polly asked, her voice strained as she continued to stare down at the shoe, still waiting for her anger to dissolve. “He promised to come and visit me and yet I have neither seen nor heard from him for quite some time! Now I get to hear that he has been visiting my fish and chip shop regularly. How could he be so inconsiderate?” she snapped.

  “Hodgekiss is doing just fine, Polly. At present he’s back in Piadora,” Ralph cheerily replied.

  “I bet he is,” Polly angrily thought to herself. “Fine and fat on my stale cakes and chip batter! What rotten little scoundrels they have turned out to be!” Polly thought, grimacing as she considered how taken in by them both she had been.

  “Well, I hope the weather is nice for him in Piadora,” she commented, slightly tongue in cheek.

  “From what he has told me, the weather is absolutely perfect. But then it always is,” Ralph chirpily replied. “I really must take some time off and go to Piadora, for I’m certain that I must be due a break,” he sighed.

  “Oh, come on,” said Polly, no longer able to conceal her irritation. “Surely you don’t really expect me to believe your far-fetched tales about the kingdom of Piadora, along with your delusions about the Hubber Blubber and the Hoolie Koolie tree. Please tell me that it really is all just make-believe.”

  Ralph stopped grinning.

  “I assure you, Polly, Piadora most certainly does exist. And as for the Hubber Blubber and the Hoolie Koolie tree, they are most real too,” he said sternly, pretending to be offended.

  Polly did not know whether to laugh or cry, so she settled for the latter. “Ralph,” she cried through a mist of tears. “Ralph, are you as mad as Hodgekiss?”

  Ralph looked offended. “I assure you that I am neither mad nor crazy, for I have spent much of my time in the kingdom of Piadora, and I find it quite offensive that you should think I would lie about such things.”

  Polly quickly apologized, for she reminded herself that Hodgekiss had swiftly pulled her up for making judgments on others based on how they appeared.

  Ralph accepted Polly’s apology and went on to ask how Thomas was doing.

  “I have some medicine for him,” he said brightly, taking a small vial out from his overcoat pocket.

  “Don’t bother!” responded Polly rather abruptly, for, in truth, she had suddenly become most sad at being reminded of her b
eloved brother Thomas and how much he had suffered.

  “Don’t be silly, Polly,” said Ralph. “This medicine has come all the way from Piadora especially for Thomas. Here, take it,” he said offering her a small vial full of purplish liquid.

  “No, thank you, Ralph. I really have no need of it and neither does Thomas. He died last week.” Polly’s voice trailed off as she struggled to find the right words to continue. “So please thank Hodgekiss for going to so much effort on Thomas’s behalf, but his help has come far too late to save him.”

  Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears, and she felt absolutely wretched. Ralph remained conspicuously silent as he allowed Polly the breathing space to continue pouring out all her frustration, for he could see she was nearing breaking point.

  “I have to be honest when I say I really trusted Hodgekiss to help us, Ralph. I feel terribly let down by him, for he promised me he would do all he could for us,” she sniffed. Her voice was also beginning to crack, but she needed to talk to get it all of her chest. “And as you might well be aware, we have nobody in the world who cares a jot or tittle about us, and that’s no word of a lie. So I was really counting on him, and now it is too late, for Thomas has well-andtruly gone.” Polly began to tremble as she talked on. “His funeral is on Tuesday, and I have been told by my guardians that I am not even allowed to attend it! Oh, how I hate them!”

  Ralph put his arm around Polly in an attempt to comfort her. Polly was touched by his gesture, but thought that no amount of comfort would remove this huge mountain of pain that was growing daily inside her, for she was so angry and hurt by just about everything in life. Ralph clearly observed that she was indeed suffering from a broken and crushed spirit and that she could hardly take any more.