SHORT STORY: Usually on a Tuesday by Louise Ewing
Originally published in Harvey's Flash!Mob: THROUGH THE LETTERBOX
First published in Harvey's Flash!Mob: THROUGH THE LETTERBOX
© Louise Ewing 2024
They usually arrived through the letterbox early on Tuesday morning, which was why we had advised Mrs McAllister to seal up the opening on Monday night, before she went to bed. Perhaps we should have explained. Not to worry, she wouldn’t be continuing with her stay at No.54 and we still had her deposit so, all good really.
Tuesday was quiz night at the Fettle and Foot. Rodger, landlord of said establishment, took great pride it setting the questions. He considered himself to be an educated man, having been taught many things by his grandfather who had led an interesting life. The theme tonight was prison food through the ages. There was no winner as such, but the losing team had to suffer whatever humiliation Bonny, the landlady, chose. This time it involved nakedness, as usual, and a large jar of small black wriggly things that she had been collecting. We didn’t lose.
When we got back, Mrs McAllister was in bits. She was probably very upset when it happened, but it was sound advice and she had chosen to ignore it. When she had introduced herself, she had said she was a bit of a scatter brain and now, there it was – scattered all over the vinyl floor in the sitting room.
We had got rid of the carpet several years ago. Brian’s cousin had set up a little business locally and offered us a good deal. It made sense – carpet was so unhygienic.
Brains and various bits of her all over the place – her handknitted cardigan all ripped and sticky with blood, a kidney in the kitchen and some fingers by the flat screen telly we bought online last month.
I’d got some battenburg cake in the cupboard so, once everything was shipshape again, we sat down, popped the radio on and had that with a nice pot of tea.
Back went the sign on the front door again – Rooms Available.
On Thursdays we usually went down to the harbour to see what the boat had brought in that week. This week it had brought in some fresh fruit from the islands, which was lovely, some biscuits and an old school friend of Mrs McAllister called Myrtle, to whom she had given No.54 as her forwarding address.
We explained that her stay there had been short and that she had already moved on.
“Oh, what a pity, silly me – I should have told her I was coming.”
“Lovely woman. Nice shoes,” I replied, tapping them on the ground.
Myrtle agreed, “Oh yes, always.”
“Will you be staying over tonight?”
“Well yes, I’ll have to. I won’t be able to get back now until at least next week. Such a shame. I was looking forward to a catch up and a nice game of cribbage. And she didn’t say where she was going? Oh dear. I don’t suppose you know of somewhere…?”
“Have a nice stay and be sure to tape up the letterbox,” I called out quietly, as Brian tossed her the keys. She waved to us happily and we headed off to the pub. It was skittles night tonight.
“Lovely woman.”
“Oh yes, lovely.”
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording and/or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author.
Read more from Louise Ewing in Harvey's Dark Urban Fantasy: Rum & Rosemary...
Read full bio
Find THROUGH THE LETTERBOX on Amazon:
