VILLAGE IDIOTS

Chapter 1- Welcome To Dunfler

THE COUNTRY SONG 'Islands in the Stream' rang throughout the car, although Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers' voices were drowned out by the ear-shattering sound of two people singing.
Peter and Beryl Murray—a father and daughter duo.
They actually sounded quite good together, their voices blending together and the harmonies timed perfectly, indicating that they had sung the song together before. Beryl's uncle Samson told her about the countless times her then pregnant mother would dance around in the kitchen with Peter, Islands in the Stream blaring through the house.

Beryl's naturally tight curls bounced against her shoulders as she bobbed her head up and down.
She looked like the sweetest angel to ever exist.
Almost everyone in her family thought so. She couldn't just smile with her mouth-no way.
Her whole face would light up, her eyes would squint just a little and her dimples would poke through.
It was a blessing, but also a curse, because anyone who knew her well enough was able to tell when she was faking a smile or not.

Peter and his daughter looked nothing alike. She was her mother's mini me, that's what everyone said.
His dark brown hair had turned quite grey now, but it somehow only added to his attractiveness.
The older ladies in his neighbourhood dubbed him a 'silver fox.'
He and his daughter had the same laugh though.
Well, his was loud, and hers was more of a giggle, but their laughs started off the same. Kind of like a scoff, but softer, and not in anyway meant to portray a negative feeling.
His whole face would light up when he was
genuinely happy too, just like his daughter's.

He began to slow down, but it wasn't until he turned the music down that Beryl started to pay attention.

"Hey!
I was just about to do my solo!"

"That can wait, kiddo.
Look out your window."

The cobbled streets caught Beryl's attention first, but the vibrant green trees and bushes interested her more.
They looked so healthy.
It was a far cry from hacked off tree stumps that Beryl used to see near her school and local park.
In fact, it looked a lot like the woods Beryl used to frequent often as a child.
That's actually where she got the small but deep scar on her forehead.
She got a little overambitious during her first time climbing a tree.
The houses looked like something out of a movie.
You know, the ones set in quiet little cottages.
The houses were close together, like in the city, but it just felt different here.
More peaceful.
Seeing it in person made it all seem so real. It may be beautiful, but Beryl wasn't sure if this place would ever feel like home.

"Pretty cool, isn't it?", he remarked.

A soft smile appeared on his face and he turned right, then straight ahead, passing a sign that read
'WELCOME TO DUNFLER.'

■■■

Peter and Beryl's new house looked exactly like the other houses around them.
It created the impression that, like their house, they belonged in the village too.
It didn't feel like that though.
Beryl couldn't help but notice people watching them, whispering to each other when they thought Beryl wasn't looking at them anymore.
Whilst her dad unloaded the boxes from the boot of the car, Beryl walked up the five small steps, and then the path that led up to the house.
The walls were covered in pebbledash, which her Dad told her was a common feature of English houses in the early 1900s. He was a builder—a job that was undertaken by quite a lot of his family members.
Builders used pebbledash to hide imperfections that came from having to make so many houses at such a fast pace. Beryl wondered if Dunfler had the same issue as England once did, or if they just liked the way it looked.