Flabberwocky

11 - The Bus Ride To Elmswick

Uncle Ken lived a short bus ride away in the nearby town of Elmswick. Until the 1970s the town was renowned for making pianos. "Piano maker to Queen Victoria" can still be made out in gold lettering on the large crested sign hanging above the derelict factory. Half of the people in the town used to work there, all until that fateful Saturday night at the London Palladium back in 1972. Denny Sullivan and the Sullivanettes weren't very high on the billing, and even then it seemed odd that the piano was the main instrument in their rockabilly anthem, "Stan the ukelele man." Millions of people were glued to their televisions as the group started playing. Spurred on by the sense of occasion and the vast number of people watching, Denny lifted his right leg and began thumping the top keys of his Grand Elmswick piano with his pink suede boot. But as they got to the final chorus of the song there was a terrible crunching sound from inside the belly of piano, the added pressure of his pounding foot had caused the strings to snap, and in a split second they ricocheted out from under the lid, lashing Denny in the face. There were screams from the audience as blood poured from Denny's eye, which was so damaged, it later had to be surgically removed.

Denny Sullivan's lawyers claimed huge damages for his injury, but actually it was the disastrous nationwide publicity which saw the company tumble into bankruptcy. After that, every time someone mentioned a piano, people would laugh, "ooh, it's not an Elmswick is it?" People smashed them up with axes in the street, there were piano burning parties, even the piano they made for Queen Victoria was removed from Windsor castle, supposedly for cleaning.

The great rivalry between Notchwood and Elmswick went back decades, and nowhere was it more visible than in the football stands. Both town's teams always tended to be battling in the same lowly league, and only the bravest supporters would attend inter-town derbies. Notchwood FC fans, affectionately known as the Barrys, would always chant 'Stan the ukelele man' at the Elmswick supporters. That was until seven years ago, when local property developer Max Chester bought Elmswick town football club, and despite the fierce protests of its supporters, renamed it Max Chester United. Now the chant aimed at Elmswick fans is usually, "who do you think you are kidding Max-ee Chester!"

Panda didn't fancy joining Lawrence and Molly on their bus ride to Elmswick. She said she had to rejuvenate her wardrobe, Lawrence imagined that meant giving it a lick of paint. Barry said he couldn't come either, because he was going to spend the weekend making fireworks. This usually entailed carefully cutting up smaller fireworks, and pouring all the powder inside into one big firework.

It wasn't the nicest of bus journeys, for most of the way an overweight man in a red shirt with wet patches under his arms stood holding the support rail next to Molly's seat. When the bus turned a corner he swayed, thrusting his moist armpit towards her face. If it wasn't for the smell that wafted towards Lawrence at the same time, he'd have found it quite funny. It had been a couple of weeks since they'd found the ruby heart, Molly pulled it out of her jacket pocket and rubbed it between her fingers. Lawrence just rested his face against the window, watching the drips of rain trickle down the glass into other bigger drips below. "What are we going to say to uncle Ken?" asked Molly. "What are you going to say you mean, it's your idea, I just hope they have cake." The two of them spent the rest of the journey in silence, not speaking again until they stepped from the bus into Uncle Ken's street. Molly pulled up the hood of her jacket, "I think we should have rung first." "Do you think?" replied Lawrence sarcastically.

The pair sheltered from the drizzle under the small porch overhanging Uncle Ken's front door. "I'm not sure this was such a good idea," said Molly, but only after she'd already rung the doorbell. They waited for what seemed like minutes. Lawrence was just about to suggest that nobody was home when they saw a shape moving through the glass panel in the door. There was yet more waiting while the door was unlocked with a key before it slowly opened, just a little. It was Maureen, "hello Maureen, it's us," declared Lawrence. Her face was completely blank, they then watched as her eyes looked upwards, desperately trying to remember who they were. Molly chose to put her out of her misery, "we're uncle Ken's great niece and nephew, Molly and Lawrence." Maureen smiled, just a little, glad for the relief of knowing who they were, but still looking far from pleased to see them. "Oh, hello, what did you come here for?" Lawrence thought Maureen was only a few notches below the Flabberwocky on the rudeness scale. "We came to talk to Uncle Ken about Grandad," replied Molly. Maureen ruffled her shoulders uncomfortably, like her body wanted to burst out of the white buttoned boys shirt she was wearing, "it's not really a good time right now." "Is uncle Ken not in?" asked Molly. The strained look on Maureen's face was confusing, like her overwhelming urge to be polite was preventing her from slamming the door in their faces. Before she had a chance to reply a voice called down from upstairs, "who is it Maureen?" It was an unusual voice, not like anyone they'd ever heard before, and its interruption seemed to make Maureen even more nervous than she was before. She turned her head sharply towards the hallway causing her tight white collar to corrugate against her neck as she called back up the stairs, "it's ok, I'm dealing with it." She turned back to the children, "it's not a good time right now, can you come back another day?" "Ugh," huffed Lawrence, "we spent all our pocket money on the bus tickets." Molly decided to be more insistent, "we just want to talk to him, we're not going to cause trouble, we don't need cups of tea or biscuits," Lawrence looked up at her with his eyebrows raised, "we just have a few questions to ask our uncle about his brother." Maureen no longer seemed as timid as they'd always thought, "well, that's not my problem, this isn't a good time, you'll have to come back another day." Still half hidden behind the front door she pushed her hand out, gesturing for them to move back off of the step and away from the porch, "why didn't you call first?" Lawrence smiled as he stepped backwards, "yes, I said that." As usual Molly found it more difficult to conceal her frustration, grunting to herself under her breath as she moved away from the door, "unbelievable, all this way for nothing, we only wanted to ask about Moniken." The door stopped closing and Maureen's arm dropped, "did you say Moniken?" Molly moved back towards the doorstep, "yes, we need to find out about.." Before she could finish Maureen turned her head back towards the hallway and began calling up the stairs, "it's Lucy and Greg's children, they're asking about Moniken." There was a brief stillness, Molly and Lawrence smirked at each other, not sure what was going on until the weird voice called down the stairs in reply, "send them up."