Tillsbury Adventures

Chapter 2: The queen of the dead

Molly seems to know every soul of the town, tells me about their flaws and sins and rambles on about who could take me in: «Let's see. There surely must be a place for you somewhere. I know the Andersons have been looking for some help in their butchery. There's not a chance I'll send you there though. Their son's a bit of a skirt-chaser you know. Can't keep his hands to himself. You better be careful about that one.» She seriously tilts her head and looks me up and down: «The pub could surely use a looker like you, but there is no way you can sleep there. This town is so stodgy some people tend to pass the glass around out of sheer boredom. And then when the ships come in, it's all good fun but half of the sailors are crooks and the other half haven't seen a girl since their Mama brought them out to live. It's not company you should be keeping for to long.» 

Molly hecticly arranges the cuttlery in little tin cans on the counter and sighs: «Ach deary and I myself can't take you in. There's simply not enough space. But I know Mrs. Simps from over at the churchyard. She's a regular. I'm sure I can work something out for you. Bit a strict one, but I know she has the space. Her sons away with the navy aswell, you know. She might quite like some company.» The quirky redhead babbles on and on as the discomforts of my long journey start to take their toll on me. I sink deeper into the armchair, slowly dozing off and finally falling into a deep slumber. 

I wake up as something pokes me in the side. A small lady with twinkling eyes wearing horn-rimmed glasses pokes me again with the tip of her umbrella. «So what do we have here. You are Truckers grandchild I hear. Hah, I never knew he left any offspring behind on his many cruises.», the lady shows me a smile which makes me realize that she has beautifully formed features behind her huge glasses. The tight bun on her head and her elegant posture make her look like an old Russian ballet teacher. There is something graceful about the way she surrounds the armchair I'm sitting in, plucking my hair and inspecting me thorougly. 

«Up with you child, up with you! Nothing can come from nothing.» , she swings her umbrella like a zar his scepter and gives me the feeling that it is better not to test her patience. Turns out the ruler in front of me is noone but the churchyard Mrs. Sims herself. Apparently she has not only had a lemon tea, but also a fruitful chat with Molly and is now set on taking me with her. She springinly takes my suitcase in one hand, crimps the umbrella under her left arm and walks out the coffeshop. «Ping.»

I rush my goodbyes with Molly, eagerly not to fall out with my new saviour. Molly gives me a bundle of chocolate cookies and a kiss on the cheek. «You'll be fine deary, just don't tell the woman about your thievery. That stays a secret between us.», she winks at me and off I go.

Mrs. Sims house turnes out to be surrounded by the cemetry. She smirkes as she sees the surprise on my face and firmly says: «No worries child. The dead are not the ones in this town to be afraid of. But if you ever find one roaming around at night, I will gladly escort'em back to their chambers.»