Illusions of Grandeur and Other Stories

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Illusions of Grandeur and Other Stories Page 4

by TS Gwilliam


  “You have come back to me,” she heard a deep and familiar voice whisper.

  “I returned; I have waited so long, so long in this house lost without you.”

  Sophie found herself replying with love in her heart.

  “Time, she has led us to this moment, this particular point when the universe rectifies our mistakes; our weakness of not following our hearts, for this we have suffered but now; now, is the instant when our world, is as it should be”

  “Together, forever” the voice murmured as Chords floated into the room on a sea of stardust, then as if on a summer breeze, enveloping the aura before gently sweeping it away.

  The Estate.

  Mrs. Burroughs pulled her silk scarf up and tucked it around her neck, she had been feeling a chill quite a lot these past few years and no matter how she wrapped up it was always there. She smoothed down her apron and pushed the fallen lock of grey hair back into its bun. She sighed, autumn was on its way and the Estate was looking pretty at this time. The leaves were turning into their respective golden and red hues which now, at sunset helped to spread a blanket of coppery gold across the landscape. ‘It would be so perfect’ she thought ‘if only there was something that could be done about all the wailing and moaning that arrived with the moon.’ She knew who was responsible for all that racket. She turned thoughtfully towards her dwelling, in this part of the Estate the residences were all neat and tidy, various designs with some of the architecture quite grand at the end of her road. The loving displays of carnations, freesias and roses added scent and colour as the day slowly wisped away.

  It was at this moment that she noticed Mr. Carrington taking his evening stroll, a tall man with a pleasantly ruddy face and long sideburns, a somewhat imposing stature but as Mrs. Burroughs often observed, although old fashioned looking he was always polite and well mannered.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Burroughs, keeping well I trust?” He inquired slightly tipping his hat.

  “Oh yes thank you Mr. Carrington,” she replied “although I must admit that my bones are aching a bit. “How is your family?” Then before he could respond she continued.

  “I really need your advice and help with something.”

  “My family is well thank you and I will certainly do my best to assist if I can, what is it that ails you?”

  “Well you know me Mr. Carrington, I don’t like to complain but really all this noise every night is getting me down, I really can’t get any peace. I think I know who it is though” She leant forward and lowered her voice even though there was no one else around. “It’s them…you know…them down the road, the ‘Neznama’.

  “The Neznama?” Mr. Carrington looked at Mrs. Burroughs quite puzzled. He was not aware of any disturbances and he not had any complaints from any other neighbours.

  “Yes, you know the ‘Neznama’,” Mrs. Burroughs insisted “that’s what my old neighbour Mira called them, do you remember Mira? What a sweet lady she was, I can’t say I always understood what she was saying all the time but she always spoke so kindly, even about them.”

  Mrs. Burroughs stopped to ponder for a moment “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her for quite a while,” then returning her attention to Mr. Carrington continued.

  “Maybe you could call a meeting? I surely can’t be the only one who is suffering this torment every night.”

  “I’m not aware myself of any such noises and I must admit that I have not heard of any one else complaining of anything like this,” he advised then, noticing the earnest expression on Mrs. Burroughs face carried on “It would not hurt I suspect for us all to meet up and find out the extent of this problem and if necessary find a solution.” Mrs. Burroughs thanked him profusely and they parted ways.

  “Order! Order! Please Ladies and Gentlemen,” called Mr. Carrington “we really should get this meeting on its way.”

  He looked around at the assembly of people gathered in the plain chapel. Only a dozen or so sat in the warm glow of the descending sun that eked its way through the sparse windows. He could see Mrs. Burroughs waving her hand at everyone trying to bring a hush to the room. It wasn’t long before all the faces were turned towards him waiting in anticipation.

  “This meeting has been called,” he began “because I have heard concerns from one of us regarding the noises that are allegedly coming from a certain part of the Estate in the late evening”

  “Well we all know where they are coming from,” interrupted Mrs. Burroughs “and I think….”

  “Yes Mrs. Burroughs, thank you, can I ask if anyone else has heard these interferences?” Mr. Carrington broke in as some were looking a little bemused and were whispering to each other.

  “Noises?”

  “What noises? Have you heard anything?” an elderly couple, towards the back was asking each other.

  “No. Not me, once I”m asleep that”s it, not even a hurricane can wake me up, do you remember 1986? Slept right through that I did.”

  “Now, now everyone settle down please.” Mr. Carrington jumped in quickly as he saw Mrs. Burroughs open her mouth to speak “Mrs. Burroughs has advised me that these noises take the form of moaning and wailing?” Mrs. Burroughs nodded and passed her gaze over the others in expectation.

  “I ‘eard a long hoot the other night, it sure weren’t no owl “cos I knows what an owl sounds like,” came a voice from the back “my next door neighbour ‘ad an owl an” I used to ‘ear it loud an’ clear. George. That was ‘is name.”

  “That’s a strange name for an owl.” someone said.

  “Noo. That was me neighbours name, George the owl. The owl, ‘is name wer’ Fluffy.”

  Mr. Carrington had had enough.

  “Come on everyone, we don’t want to be here all night. Does anyone here know anything of these noises? Any ideas on whom or what they might be….excluding owls?”

  Silence fell across the meeting; this was a most opportune pause as without warning, a strange sound wafted on the breeze that gently blew through the open door at the back of the chapel. Not quite audible as they drifted over everyone’s heads the sounds floated briefly before disappearing. The room now buzzed with a mixture of wonders and awe except for a young man sitting on the front row.

  “Is that it?” he exclaimed “I’ve heard worse than that down in Deansgate after the pubs shut!”

  “That’s not the half of it,” butted in Mrs. Burroughs “It’s usually worse than that, surely I’m not the only one disturbed by this.” She stared intently at them all. She found, with the exception of Mr. Carrington, the young man and a young lady sitting on the back row had, by now; all averted their eyes and were shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

  “Right now Mrs. Burroughs,” Mr. Carrington started to say.

  “Please call me Mrs. B, all my friends do” she smiled at him, at last something was going to be done. Her eyes conveyed her belief to Mr. Carrington that he would resolve this situation for her. Realising that he would have to continue he focused his attention again on those gathered.

  “Mrs. B,” he said “is under the impression that the cause of these noises are resulting from the Neznama? Is that correct?”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Does anyone here know anything of the Neznama or ever been to the part of the Estate where they reside? I haven’t personally been aware of their existence or ever traversed in that direction.”

  After a short while, allowing everyone to discuss the matter between themselves and noting the mention of ‘Ghouls, Vampires and Dracula’ he spoke once more.

  “I judge the answer to be no to both questions? In that case may I suggest that we all venture to explain this phenomenon…..” With a sudden flurry of chairs being hurriedly screeched out of the way, in what appeared to be a blink of an eye. There was only himself, Mrs. Burroughs, the young man on the front row and a young lady sitting at the back.

  “Just the four of us then.” said Mr. Carrington “I do not see any reason for delay and if we are a
ll in agreement I believe we should investigate immediately.”

  There were no objections.

  It was all quiet as they left the chapel, it had been agreed that although they didn’t quite know which direction to go in, they would nevertheless head south as this was the direction Mrs. Burroughs believed the noises came from.

  As they started their journey, Mr. Carrington thought it would be an opportunity to acquaint himself with the young man. He found out that his name was Matt and discovered that he had a fondness for chicken and football.

  With more of a chill in the air Mrs. Burroughs wished that she had brought a cardigan with her. As she observed Matt she wondered disapprovingly about the way he was dressed. Didn’t he possess a belt? What kind of family did he come from? She fondly thought of her Arthur, a good man although a little too fond of a pint of bitter and the horses, he always kept himself tidy, he even had braces to hold his socks up.

  Matt was explaining the offside rule to Mr. Carrington who was trying his best to convey that he actually knew what the young man was talking about. He knew about football, it kept the ‘working classes’ occupied at the weekend but that was as far as his interest went.

  Mrs. Burroughs was feeling left out and decided to interject.

  “Are we nearly there do you think?” She asked pushing her way in between the two men managing to push Matt on the floor as she did so.

  “No, its okay I’m fine.” He grumbled, to no avail, as no one had actually noticed he was on the ground and covered in gunk. As he was pulling himself back onto his feet, the soft breeze brought another wave of sounds that whirled in the air, a soft resonance that grew to crescendo of wails and moans that were almost unbearable to the ear. Matt, who was still trying to brush himself down, let out a slow whistle.

  “That was spooky.”

  “See, do you see? How on earth are you supposed to get any rest with that racket going on?” Mrs. Burroughs spluttered whilst shaking, that was the worst she had ever heard.

  “I know what you all say! She’s just an old busy body who just goes with ‘erself, no one takes any notice of me. Well now you know.”

  Matt just stood there with a serious look on his face. He was thinking that maybe they should turn back and leave whatever it was alone, he was alright in his patch why mess with things that you know nothing about.

  “Mrs.B.” he started to say.

  “No you don’t, young man” Mrs. Burroughs glared at him “Don’t be thinking you can go back now, get a backbone like Mr. Carrington ‘ere. He knows we can’t go back now don’t you?” Her attention had turned to the older man who in truth had been thinking the same as Matt and having second thoughts but found he was in no position to express them.

  “Yes.” he replied as he hurriedly gathered his composure and said assuredly.

  “I’m sure there will be a logical explanation. There always is. Science and Rational Thought can explain all phenomena.”

  Mrs. Burroughs snorted; she had told Mr. Carrington to call her Mrs. B, not this young upstart.

  “And it would ‘elp if you managed to stay on yer’ feet as well, you do ‘ave women to protect.” she told him pointedly, he was beginning to annoy her. She had always been able to keep her manners when Mr. Carrington was around, but now she was dropping her ‘aitches’ and this would not do. Matt pondered to himself that he doubted that she had ever needed anyone to protect her.

  The path had now become overgrown; Mr. Carrington naturally took the lead. As they approached a tall willow tree that swirled softly in the failing light they all gathered behind him as he peered intently around the tree.

  “What’s going on? Is it them?” whispered Mrs. Burroughs.

  “Are they drinking and laughing? What are those children doing playing games, at this time! Well, I never!” she gasped.

  “I cannot tell at present, there appears to be quite a crowd meandering around.” he replied. After a few moments deliberation he turned to the others.

  “I really cannot see that there is anything disturbing going on here, I believe it would be quite safe to go over and find out what is going on.”

  “You may not be, but some of us are disturbed.” said Mrs. Burroughs indignantly. She knew exactly what kind of residents they had come upon here. She looked towards Matt and the young lady for some agreement, but Matt had fallen in behind Mr. Carrington and now had an amused expression on his face and the young lady? ‘She’s a strange one,’ she thought ‘not a word, I don’t think she’s on the same planet and what on earth is she wearing? It looks like one of those sacks I used to keep my spuds in. Does no one else take care of their appearance these days?’

  As they all moved forward together, it became apparent to Mrs. Burroughs that these weren’t her ‘kind’ of people. Their abodes were quite scruffy and unkempt. ‘Cleanliness was next to Godliness’ that’s what she had been brought up to believe and these people obviously didn’t know what a flannel looked liked. They were approached by an old man with a kind face.

  “Welcome, welcome,” he said “Go over to the fire and I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea” He pointed to the other side of the neighbourhood. Mr. Carrington thanked him and strode off in that direction with the others following behind. They passed children playing and little groups of people who glanced up at them, then returned to their conversations or their card games, chess or whatever they were up to. Some nodded or smiled but mostly they were ignored as they made their way past. There were a few people huddled around the fire when they reached it and they made room for their visitors with no questions or remarks.

  “It’s a bit weird ‘aint it,” whispered Mrs. Burroughs “I didn’t expect the Neznama to be like this, they look, well, normal.” directing her gaze towards Mr. Carrington, who was observing the scene with a quizzical eye.

  “To be honest Mrs. B, I am not at all sure what to make of it,” he replied “I cannot see any explanation for the disturbances here, but then I suppose we have only just arrived. Let us wait and see what happens.”

  Their conversation was abruptly interrupted.

  “Oi!”

  They all turned around to see where the voice was coming from.

  “Oi!” it came again this time louder “You gone deaf or what?”

  Matt’s face lit up as he recognised the tall lanky lad strolling towards them.

  “Jamie!” he exclaimed “What the frack are you doing here?” they greeted each other with a playful poke to each others arms.

  “I’m here with me Gran, what about you? Didn’t know you were in this neck of the woods, how did you get here?”

  “Dunno really.” Matt replied.

  “Ahem,” interrupted Mrs. Burroughs “I assumes you know each other?” She gave Jamie one of her most disapproving looks. His trousers were hanging down lower than Matt’s. Why was he showing his underwear to the world?

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us then?” She asked “I do like to know whose company I am keeping.”

  “Soz Mrs. B, this is Jamie, an old mate of mine who used to live around the corner to me, we grew up together didn’t we?” He looked fondly at Jamie.

  Jamie nodded.

  “Is this your Gran then, I never met her?”

  “Frack off.” said a startled Matt.

  “My name is Mrs. Burroughs, young man and no, I am not his grandmother, if I was he would certainly not be dressed like that.” she couldn’t help herself saying.

  Matt indicated to Mr. Carrington and introduced him. He shook hands with the young man and said.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Jamie.”

  The young lady kept herself at a distance avoiding eye contact.

  It was at this moment that the little old man returned with an old plastic tray, laden with a cracked teapot and an array of odd cups and saucers that were gently tinkling against each other.

  “Here we are” he said “I’ve brought some biscuits as well. Jamie, your Gran is looking for you; she’ll be here
in a moment. I hope you’re not getting yourself into trouble again.”

  “Nah,” replied Jamie “not much chance of getting into trouble while she’s around.” He turned to Matt “She don’t leave me alone,” he complained “everywhere I go, she’s there. Don’t do this, don’t do that. Your old lady was like that weren’t she?” Matt winced at the memory.

  “Yeah too right, they don’t know how to have fun, the oldies, unless it’s Midsomer Murders, Eggheads or…Strictly Come Dancing,” both boys shuddered at the thought.

  “and walking the dog! What is that all about? Getting fresh air! What the frack do we need fresh air for? All those fumes. You’re better off indoors, shutting the windows and the curtains.”

  Jamie nodded in agreement and whispered.

  “Daylight! That’s what I used to get all the time, go and get some daylight!”

  “Bad man, bad.” replied Matt. They both shook their heads in sympathetic accord.

  The little old man who they had learned was Freddie, had been handing round cups of tea.

  “How about you two young gentlemen, do you take sugar and milk?” he inquired.

  “Have you got any Red Bull?” asked Matt. Jamie sniggered. Without a smile Freddie replied.

  “No young man, I have no idea what a red bull is, the only bull I have ever seen, was in the farmers field next to our house when I was growing up and he was certainly not red.”

  “Just milk and two sugars then, please.” said Matt. Jamie was still giggling to himself.

  “Who are these people?” he asked Jamie whose response was only to laugh louder.

  “Any chance of a smoke?” Matt continued.

  “Oh man, don’t even go there!” roared Jamie.

  Mrs. Burroughs was by now in deep conversation with Freddie, telling him all about her aches and pains, that touch of arthritis that had been plaguing her for years and how the doctor just couldn’t diagnose her ailments. He just kept giving her all these concoctions to drink and none of them worked. She was most intrigued to find that she had come across a ‘like-minded’ soul, someone who understood exactly what she had been going through. They had no idea how to treat Freddie’s gammy leg. But Mrs. Burroughs thought that maybe she could help him, as she had so much experience of the medical profession.

 

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