Curse of the Werebottom

Chapter 11

Lord Meanwhistle sat at the long table and his old, yet sharp eyes, stared unblinkingly at his guest at the opposite end of the long and expansive dining platform. The bearded man was bearded no more. He was clean shaven and he was showered and he was attired in clothes that made him appear far less vagrant and far more human.

The man ate hungrily and soon devoured his thick broth, cleaning the large bowl thoroughly with ripped chunks of wholemeal bread. When he was finally finished he sat back and let out an appreciative burp before wiping his sleeve across his mouth and chin.

Meanwhistle dropped his head an inch and shook it very slightly and very slowly from side to side. His frustration and misunderstanding was beginning to rise to the surface again and he needed answers.

"Imposter!" he bellowed as he rose to his feet and stormed towards the younger man. "Incredible, indiscreet, imposing, ingenuous idiot! What do you take me for? A buffoon! Do you think that I don't fully understand what you are doing? Do you believe I am deceived? Meanwhistle scrapped a chair out from under the table and sat next to the younger man. He leant forward so that his nose was a hairs breadth away from the tip of the younger man's nose. "Say those words one more time. Tell me your story once more, for the ears of a defenceless and vulnerable old man. Prove you are not here to steal and to thieve and to cheat!"

Meanwhistle was definitely a theatrical fellow and did not mind at all playing the victim if he believed it would serve a higher purpose and help him achieve what he wanted to.

"You know me. You know who I am and you know what I am. The tale I have told you is true and you know that because you see yourself in me. I went away and now I'm back. I was angry with you and now I'm not. I've spent the last fourteen years hitch hiking across Europe and I've seen and done some pretty amazing and dangerous things. But things change and people change. When the time comes you realise that there's no place like home and your feet inevitably take you to where you belong. My genes drove my jeans straight back here. I needed to return because I missed you and I needed to see you. That's why I'm here, that's why I came back. That's why I let myself in the house and that's why you clothed me and fed me. Believe it or not, I'm back, father.

Meanwhistle stopped for a heartbeat and the silence in the room engulfed everything else for that fraction of a second. He then flung his arms open wide and wrapped them tightly around the young man's broad shoulders. "My boy!" he cheered joyfully, "My first and only child has returned to the fold to look after his aging, frail, feeble and financially fragile father! Celebrate! Let there be song and dance and revelling as the reunion commences and the details of how we can catch up properly and how you can transfer funds into my bank account are agreed. The Manor welcomes you and celebrates you my boy!"

Meanwhistle took the opportunity to embrace his son and also to rather bluntly to begin to enquire about the young man's financial status.

"I'm touched by your enthusiasm Dad," the young man responded, "but I hate to state the absolute obvious." Meanwhistle stopped smiling and leaned closer to listen carefully. "I arrived in tatters and rags, I was near starvation and I have nothing of any value on my person. I don't even have a suitcase, let alone a suit that would then require me to purchase a case in which to place it! I am completely broke. I've spent every penny I have ever earned or possessed to fund my journey back home from Europe.

Meanwhistle stopped sharply and began to drum his bony fingers on the wooden table. "Broke you say?" His forehead creased in thought. "No matter, my boy, the task remains that I have for you to complete tonight. Let's use those very unique skills that you have to our advantage, eh?" The younger man shrunk into his seat and looked visibly fearful. "You know how I feel about doing those things dad. It's just......not right."

"Listen boy, you shall do as you are told if you wish to remain in this home. I am the Lord of this household and I am the master of this household!" Meanwhistle stood and marched to the door of the grand and spacious dining hall. He turned and faced his son and extended his arm and pointed directly at the younger man. "Make no mistake, child of mine. The time is now. You will do my bidding or you will leave and never return."

He then swept out of the hall, his smoking jacket flapping behind him and leaving the young man with his head in his hands, drowning in acceptance and despair.